Authors: Rachelle McCalla
The meal played out like a performance, with dishes swept in and out by finely dressed wait staff, though the only two at the table were Valli and the princess. For her part, Isabelle was still wearing the wrinkle-resistant travel
suit she’d worn for their flight. It wasn’t terribly fancy, but on her anything looked stunning.
Something hard touched his hand. Levi realized he’d been so focused on watching the princess from the doorway that he’d hardly noticed Sergio inching surreptitiously closer to him.
He froze.
Then he seemed to hear that still, small voice Dom Procopio had talked about, telling him not to look at
Sergio, nor to do anything to draw attention to what he held in his hand. Instead, his eyes still glued on the princess, he took the item that had been pressed into his palm, closing his fingers around it before he was able to identify what it was.
A key.
After several more minutes, once Sergio had slid silently back away from him, Levi tucked the key furtively into his pocket.
He still wasn’t
certain he could trust Sergio, but the scales had tipped a little further in the soldier’s favor.
Other than a few polite questions about her flight and
comments on the food, Valli and Isabelle had spoken little. But as a tray of delicate baklava was presented to each with coffee, Valli sat back and took a sip before placing his cup on its saucer.
“You believe I instigated the attack on your
family.” There was no question in his voice, and his eyes didn’t leave Isabelle’s face.
Levi watched them both intently. He saw Isabelle’s spine stiffen slightly and a hint of red color the tips of her ears.
Valli took another slow sip, replacing the delicate cup on its saucer without the slightest clink. “I assure you, Your Majesty, we are both pawns in a game being played by those far more
powerful than either of us.”
While Levi racked his brain trying to think who could possibly be more powerful than royalty and an American ambassador, Isabelle remained outwardly the model of composure, though he knew she had to be seething inside.
Her expression was demure, as though they discussed nothing more important than the phyllo pastry on her plate. “Why were there Lydian soldiers standing
guard at the United States Embassy following the attack?”
“Why did you run from them?” Valli shot back.
Levi watched Isabelle weigh her words. Would she admit what Sergio had said? They didn’t know whose side Sergio was on. If he was on their side, and his words had somehow not been brought to the attention of the powers against them, they couldn’t risk giving him away by admitting what the
soldier had said to them.
But what if Valli was telling the truth? What if he really was an innocent pawn? What if Sergio’s comment had been meant to scare them away from the one man who could help them?
“You didn’t answer my question.” Isabelle lifted her
coffee to her lips. How she held the cup steady, Levi couldn’t imagine.
“I was away from the Embassy at the time, en route to the state
dinner. The soldiers were dispatched for my safety.”
“Then why are they still here?”
Valli gave a low chuckle and leaned forward in his chair. “My dear Princess, in case you have forgotten, I am the heir apparent to the throne of Lydia. Given the current state of unrest in our nation, the soldiers are here to guarantee my continued safety and yours.”
Isabelle didn’t like the look of the man
who sat across the table from her, but she couldn’t take her eyes off his face. Was Valli lying? Could he possibly be telling the truth? She wished she knew how to scent him out without exposing herself to more danger.
“If you and I are both pawns, then perhaps we ought to work together against those who would oppose the throne.” The words surprised her even as they came from her own mouth. Was
she crazy for suggesting Valli team up with her? He’d only ever betrayed and maligned her before. Yet, what had her father always said?
Keep your friends close and your enemies closer
.
At least she knew enough not to trust Valli. She would choose her words with caution.
Valli’s broad smile at her proposal did little to appease her fears.
“I had hoped you would be a reasonable woman. That’s
why I decided to give you the opportunity to entertain a proposal from an old friend of ours.”
An old friend could have meant anyone, but the most obvious person they had in common was Tyrone Spiteri. Her former fiancé was anything but an old friend. An old arch nemesis, perhaps, but nothing like a friend.
But Valli
couldn’t
be talking about Tyrone, could he?
Valli planted his elbows on the
table and steepled his fingers in front of his nose. “I don’t have to accept the crown. In fact, I fear it would be a burden. But I have allegiances, and if those allegiances are best served by my ruling as Lydian king, I will not hesitate to do so.”
Isabelle couldn’t think of anything to say, and her mouth felt as though it had been glued shut. She sat frozen in her chair, listening to Valli,
wishing he would get to his point, and yet, at the same time, not wanting to ever have to hear what he was about to say.
“It may be more politically expedient for both of us if you were to be crowned. As we both know, if you were crowned queen, whoever you marry would then become king.”
“Only as long as I am alive,” Isabelle was quick to point out. She wasn’t certain what Valli was getting at,
but that detail needed to be clearly expressed. The last thing she wanted was for someone to think they could marry her, be crowned king and then kill her off. The law stipulated that only a direct descendent of Lydia could rule, so the spouse of the reigning king or queen had a title but no power.
But the way Valli’s snaky eyes glimmered, she doubted that he saw the law as a major impediment.
Laws could be changed.
The icy chill that crept up her spine left her frozen to her chair.
Valli raised one finger and a servant appeared from the doorway behind him.
“Bring our guest.”
Isabelle’s eyes flickered over to where Levi stood solidly behind Sergio. His compassionate eyes communicated strength. She willed her heart to stop pounding with such horrible dread.
And then her heart nearly
stopped.
Tyrone Spiteri entered the room, his head held higher than ever, his proud smile nine-tenths smirk. His classic tall, dark and handsome features had once fooled Isabelle into falling for the billionaire ten years her senior. She had so hoped their love was real, that the attraction he claimed to feel for her was rooted in something deeper than physical beauty and prominent power.
But
the more she’d learned about Tyrone, the less she’d found to like. He’d made a fortune in banking, lending primarily to the subprime market, but when financial crisis hit his country, instead of being sucked into its black hole of debt, he’d gotten inexplicably wealthier. Though charges had never been brought against him, Isabelle was certain he couldn’t possibly have earned his wealth honestly
or kept it legally.
Tyrone stood by Valli’s side, his greedy eyes devouring her, even from that distance.
“My dear Isabelle, what a pleasure to see you.” The edges of Tyrone’s words were sharpened by all his broken promises, and they cut at her wounded heart. “I regret that our last meeting did not go as I wished, but I am confident today’s meeting will remedy that.”
Isabelle held fast to her
chair. Her last meeting with Tyrone had been that fated visit in the Adirondacks when he’d tied her ankles to his four-poster bed and tried to rape her. If she hadn’t nearly gouged out his eyes and left him blinded and bleeding, he would surely have gotten away with his crime.
He was threatening her. Again.
Much as she wanted to look to Levi for support, Isabelle wouldn’t betray to Tyrone how
much her bodyguard meant to her. If Tyrone suspected she felt anything for another man, he would destroy his perceived opponent.
For Levi’s safety, she would have to play it cool.
“We trusted you to honor your promise,” Valli’s voice was silky smooth, but it spun like a web around her. “This time, we will not trust in honor alone. Parliament is eager to crown a new head of state as soon as possible,
and I do not wish to make them wait. If you will agree to marry Tyrone Spiteri tomorrow, the two of you will be crowned king and queen, and I will step aside. If not, I will accept the crown, and Lydia will have no more use for you.”
Isabelle didn’t doubt that the threat she heard simmering under Valli’s words was real. If she refused to marry Tyrone, Valli would have her killed for treason.
Tyrone advanced toward her, stopping midway down the table where a bowl of fruit served as centerpiece. He removed a blood orange and tore it open so that the crimson juice spilled down and pooled on the table. He took a bite of the fruit, but his eyes never left her face.
Then he gave a greedy laugh. “I look forward to tomorrow.”
Valli raised his finger again, and when Calista appeared, he murmured.
“Escort the princess back to her room.”
L
evi fell in behind Isabelle, who, he was impressed to see, strode from the room on steady feet, though her face had blanched white and he feared she was about to pass out. He kept close behind her in case he had to catch her as they ascended the two flights of stairs to their suite. The moment the door closed behind them, Isabelle crumpled into his arms, silent sobs coursing up through her
as he held her securely and leaned back against the wall.
Finally the tremors shuddering through her stilled somewhat, and she pressed her lips near his ear. “I can’t,” she whispered, her words nearly silent. “I can’t.”
Levi understood. Valli and Spiteri were punishing her, trapping her and enjoying every second of their game. The two evil men clearly didn’t see any way they could lose this
time.
Isabelle gulped another stifled breath. “We shouldn’t have come. Call your brother. Get us out of here. There is nothing I can do here to help my family. I’m only making things worse.”
As her distraught words rose in pitch, Levi feared she might be overheard if the room was bugged. And he was more certain than ever that the room was, indeed, bugged.
His forehead followed hers until he
could speak directly into her ear. “I have something.”
She pulled back, and he watched her swallow another sob as her eyes met his, round with fear and red-rimmed.
His hand found hers and he gave her fingers a gentle squeeze, then tugged her toward the bathroom, pausing to switch on the television as he passed the remote. With the volume cranked up high, the added noise might help to drown out
their whispers, but he wouldn’t trust in that precaution alone. For all he knew, the room might hold hidden cameras in addition to bugs, but the bathroom was less likely to be bugged. Or so he hoped.
Guiding her after him, he stepped into the shower and pulled the curtain closed after them. Then he ran his fingers along the acrylic walls of the shower surround and up onto the plaster above, feeling
for anything that might contain a hidden electronic recording or transmitting device.
Finally he inspected the shower head, unscrewing the nozzle. A trickle of water, probably left behind when the shower was used by the last guest, dribbled out.
Satisfied there was no hidden camera inside the fixture, he replaced the showerhead, but nonetheless kept his voice in a low whisper, using his body
to shield the key from view as he pulled it from his pocket.
Isabelle bent close to him, questions clear on her face.
“Sergio slipped it to me while we were standing guard over the dining room.” For the first time he was able to look at the thing, and he noticed tiny figures had been inscribed on the flat metal handle.
CV66O9C3
The letters and numbers had been written in with a fine-point
pen, though he doubted the inscription was permanent. They would surely rub off from use in a short time. He quickly committed them to memory, even while he pondered what they might mean.
“Eight digits,” Isabelle murmured, her voice nearly silent.
“A combination of letters and numbers.” She met his eyes. “It’s a password.”
“But to what?”
“Did Sergio say anything? Gesture in any way?”
“I hardly
realized he’d moved toward me. He was clearly trying to go unnoticed.”
Isabelle gave the key a studied look, turning it over. There were no markings on the other side. “Can we trust him? Or is it a trap?”
Levi wished he knew the answer. For a brief moment, when Valli had made the claim about being pawns, Levi had almost entertained the idea that the man might
not
be in league with those who’d
attacked the royal family. But when Valli had brought in that beast Tyrone Spiteri, Levi had been convinced that such a ruthless plan could only be orchestrated by someone whose heart held no goodwill.
“How can it be a trap?” He closed her fingers over the key, signaling he wanted her to keep it. “We don’t even know what it’s for.”
“I would suggest that we try to feel out where Sergio stands,
but there isn’t time.” Isabelle’s words were practically silent, but Levi had learned to read her lovely lips. “We came here in hopes of finding some evidence against Valli. Perhaps God has provided us a way, through Sergio.” She took a breath, and he could almost see her courage return. “Perhaps we should not run away quite yet.”
He nodded his agreement. “Tonight when the lights are off we’ll
try the key in every door we can find.”
She placed her hands on his shoulders and looked up at him, the frantic fear he’d seen in her eyes earlier now replaced by warmth. Affection.
They were too close. The scent of her hair, the light cinnamon sweetness of the baklava she’d tasted, the warmth
of her slender form against him were all overwhelming. He needed to put some distance between them.
And yet, how could he push her away? She’d been through too many terrors of late.
Her words were almost silent. “What about the password?”
Levi had to stop and think, to disentangle himself from his feelings for her. He had to remain objective, focused on their mission. What had she asked about? The password. “I can only hope we’ll know how to use it when the time comes.”
Isabelle peeled back
the curtains that looked out on the courtyard garden between the chancery proper and Valli’s residence. Lights that had glimmered in windows an hour before no longer shined. Levi had already scoped out the grounds. There were security cameras in the parking lot and courtyard, and dozens up and down the embassy hallways. But, as Levi pointed out in muted whispers, no one had stopped him as he’d passed
up and down the halls scouting out the premises. They were guests. They had every right to be in the hallway. And with so many cameras, the odds were good security personnel didn’t monitor every view at every moment. As long as they stuck to the shadows, they could avoid being seen. When they had to be in the open, they could pray no one was looking or that their presence wouldn’t raise any
alarms.
Smoothing down her black sweater over her black pants, Isabelle wished she could so easily squash the anxious churning in her stomach. She and Levi were already surrounded by their enemies. If they were caught in the act of investigating, there might be no escape. Levi had called his brother, Joe, who headed up their backup team. If Joe didn’t receive a text from them by midnight assuring
him everything was fine, he and his men would move in.
But so much could happen before midnight. Isabelle wondered
if she was foolish to attempt to use the key and the password. She knew they were risking their lives.
But she also knew she had no choice, not if she expected to keep Valli from taking the throne. Once rule passed from her father, he couldn’t reclaim the throne, even if he was
still alive. Besides, Valli was corrupt to the core. There was more at stake than just the lives of her family members. Isabelle didn’t want to imagine what would become of her country with Stephanos Valli as king.
Levi joined her beside the window, questions in his eyes.
With their room already in darkness, Isabelle didn’t have to fear giving themselves away as she peeked the curtains open
so that Levi could see for himself the dark windows across the courtyard.
The way was clear. They could proceed.
What little part of that evening she hadn’t spent in fitful rest, Isabelle had committed to constant prayer. God had always protected the nation of Lydia, even through awful assaults before. She clung to the faith that He would be with them now.
Levi took both her hands and pressed
his forehead to hers. She could feel the prayers radiating off him, though his lips did not move and he made no sound. Still, she knew they were united in purpose. Had she not been on the verge of nausea over what they were about to attempt, she might have given in to the affection she felt for him and the intimacy of the moment they shared.
Instead she took a deep breath and looked into his
familiar eyes, which appeared gray in the darkness. She knew him well enough by now she didn’t need light to see. She felt as though she knew him by heart and thanked God he was with her, certain she couldn’t pull off their plan without his help. Levi was a gift. He was the only reason she was still alive.
As she had earlier when he’d shown her the key, she pulled
her thoughts away from the distraction
of her feelings for him. Now was not the time to explore how they felt about one another. Far, far too much was at risk.
Isabelle watched through the peephole in the door to their suite until the patrolling guards had passed well by. Then she slipped out the latex gloves Levi had brought from New York. He’d thoughtfully packed a kit of anything he’d thought she might need, including a flash drive
for gathering evidence. They slipped into the hallway, closing the unlocked door behind them. Isabelle fingered the pocket on her slacks for the flash drive and cell phone she’d placed there. Both could prove to be invaluable.
As they’d already discussed in muted whispers, the two of them made their way silently down the stairs to the first floor. The chancery and ambassador’s residence were
only connected on the first floor, and the two intended to try the Embassy offices first. It seemed the most likely place to find evidence against Valli and the least likely place to be caught.
They kept to the shadows. Between draperies and pillars holding artwork and deep doorways set in thick stone walls, there were plenty of places for them to duck out of sight and listen whenever the slightest
glint of light gave them cause to fear for their safety.
Once in the wide-open foyer of the Embassy, where they’d nearly been captured two days before, they held back in the lee of the wide staircase.
Fluorescent white streetlight shone in through the narrow windows in the doors and through the round window above them, spilling in an oblong puddle across the floor. It highlighted Levi’s sharp
features as Isabelle met his eyes, waiting. They both knew the next step—up the staircase to Valli’s office.
The move would force them into the open.
The farther they went from their suite, the less opportunity
they had of effectively using the excuse that they’d gotten lost, though there was little reason for anyone to believe they would need to leave their suite with its well-stocked kitchenette
in the first place.
If they were caught, they would be in grave danger. It was that simple.
But if they failed to keep Valli from claiming the throne, whatever danger her family might currently be facing would only get that much worse.
Bolstered by that knowledge, Isabelle twitched a tiny nod at Levi, and they tiptoed hand-in-hand up the marble stairs.
Isabelle recalled from her visits three
years before that the grand double doors at the top of the stairs marked the entrance to Valli’s office. Light filtered into the hallway through a row of second-floor windows, through the open air of the high-ceilinged foyer, exposing their shadows. Isabelle jabbed the key in the lock and choked in shock when it slid straight in.
Her heart paused in its beating as she gave the handle a turn and
it slid smoothly open.
That was easy.
Too easy?
Levi gave a nod and, as planned, stepped back behind the leafy expanse of a potted palm just beyond the doorway. He would stand guard, though neither of them had ever articulated precisely what he was to do if their discovery was threatened. Isabelle could only pray it wouldn’t come to that.
Ducking inside, she found the office much as she remembered
it from three years before. Everything was inlaid mahogany, from the bookshelves that lined the walls, to the massive desk that dominated the room, to the stiff leather visitor’s chairs she’d sat in on her previous visits.
Now she slid into the plush leather seat behind the desk and found it to be of far more comfortable construction.
Leave it to Valli to secure comfort for himself while forcing
his visitors to sit on stiff chairs.
With a glance to make sure the window shades and curtains were closed, Isabelle slipped the key back into her pocket, slid out the slender flash drive she’d brought with her and wiggled the mouse of Valli’s computer, glad for the gloves Levi had brought from the United States, which would prevent her from leaving incriminating fingerprints.
The monitor shimmered
to life, revealing a backdrop of the Great Seal of the United States rimmed with block letters identifying the Embassy of the United States of America. Over the belly of the eagle, obscuring the red, white and blue shield, a window requested login information.
Isabelle hesitated. She wasn’t authorized to tap into the Embassy network. But as she blinked at the glowing screen, it occurred to her
that she didn’t have to. Valli’s login ID was already entered, and below it, ten black dots indicated the computer remembered his password.
Ten dots—two more than were inscribed on the key Sergio had passed to Levi. So that wasn’t the password she’d memorized.
With a silent prayer she hit enter and came to a page filled with options.
Which was most likely to yield evidence that Valli had conspired
to have her family assassinated? She clicked
Mail.
Again, Valli’s login, but this time, no black dots.
She entered the memorized figures.
Incorrect.
She stared at the screen, disbelieving. The key had worked in the door. Why didn’t the password work?
Isabelle heard a thump in the hallway and, unsure what else to do, ducked below the desk.
She listened to the sound of the door opening. Bright
lights filled the room.
Levi wouldn’t be so foolish.
Isabelle bit her lip. Yup, the excuse that she’d gotten lost in the building was never going to fly now.
Feet padded across the lush carpet until the shiny black shoes of the Lydian soldier uniform appeared behind the desk chair Isabelle had pulled toward her.
Sergio?
The odds were against it, and even if it
was
him, she didn’t know if
she could trust him. Maybe he’d given her the key to Valli’s office just so she could get caught breaking in.