CHAPTER SIXTEEN – FINN
“Her house?”
Alec jerks his head in a nod. “They used a series of VPNs, so it took a little work to untangle the path, but we figured it out a few hours ago. We don’t know who arranged this, just that someone within the house did.”
“So, it could be anyone from Rosalyn to a gardener?” I ask.
“Exactly.” He pauses, twisting his unlit cigarette between his fingers. “We have no way of narrowing it down further.”
“What about Harriet? Does she know?”
“She does. I got confirmation from Marina about half an hour ago. In fact, she called me and told me your fiancée demands to question these thugs herself.”
I grip the edge of the chair. “Alec—”
“Apparently, saying ‘no’ isn’t an option.” He shrugs, holding his hands out, but the twinkle in his eye says he’s enjoying this far too much. “And who am I, there mere twelfth Duke of Kilon, to refuse an order from my future queen?”
Annoyance shoots down my spine, and I clench my jaw. “You just want to meet her.”
He smirks. “That, too.”
“Alec—”
“For fuck’s sake, Finn. She’ll be safe here. We’re both here, and we aren’t going to be alone.” He spins the cigarette once more before picking up the box and slipping it back inside. “Besides, I’m pretty sure those guys won’t be making it here with all their bones intact, so don’t worry about it.”
I lean forwards and rub my hands over my face. I don’t want Hattie anywhere near this shit. I don’t want her to have to worry about it. I don’t even like that Alec allowed his little maid spy to tell her the truth.
With the technological capabilities at his hands, he should have been able to just cancel the shoot while pretending to be the person who booked it.
Then we could deal with this quietly.
It’s not that I don’t think she can handle it. I’m sure she can. She’s already made it perfectly clear that she’s been through shit I can’t even imagine, but that’s why I don’t want her to have to deal with this kind of stuff.
She doesn’t need to.
She shouldn’t need to.
I don’t want her to.
She shouldn’t have a target on her back already. It’s inevitable that she’ll become the target of ire and even death plots when she’s announced as my fiancée, but to already be in a position where she’s in danger…
Fuck.
“There’s more going on in that house than we know,” I say, staring towards the window. “For someone to be targeting her so overtly…”
Alec shrugs. “She’s the legitimate daughter. Jasmine is merely an adopted one, even if she is related to the Sinclairs by blood. She’s undoubtedly threatened by her, even if your engagement is still a state secret.”
So secret even the state doesn’t know about it.
The government only knows there is an engagement, but not to whom.
“But to actively seek to harm her? What are they trying to do to her? I get the impression Hattie already thinks her stepmother is responsible for her kidnapping all those years ago.”
“Wait.” Alec raises his hand, frowning. “How is that possible? And why would Rosalyn have a hand in that?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t want to push her at the time. It’s not an easy subject to discuss. I’m also not sure she fully trusts me yet.”
“Well, she was kidnapped. Chances are, she’s used to doing things alone and not relying on anyone. She’s not going to begin trusting people overnight.”
“I know that, I just…” I rub my hand over my mouth.
I just, what? Want her to fall at my feet and let me save the day? Let me handle everything that plagues her? Let me swoop in like a knight in shining armour so she doesn’t have to lift a finger and risk dirtying her hands?
Yes.
Fuck, yes.
That’s exactly what I want.
But that’s not what she would want.
His phone rings and he holds it to the side of his head. “Speak.” There’s a pause, then he says, “We’ll be right there.” He taps the screen and gets up, shoving it back into his pocket. “Let’s go. There are three guys waiting for us.”
Three?
I don’t need to be a genius to know that Jasmine’s fingerprints are all over this. I don’t even need the traced IP address.
It was only days ago she was wishing Hattie dead, after all.
We take the stairs down to the next floor, and Alec locates the correct panel on the wall. I’ve been through this hidden doorway more times than I can count, and as we descend into the darkness, using the stone walls as a guide, I feel it.
That sharp spark of anger, so unlike anything I’ve felt before. It slithers through my body, flickering at my skin and twisting my stomach into a tight ball.
How fucking dare they? How fucking dare they even think about laying a hand on her?
Alec pushes open a door, and we step into the basement of Kilon Manor. Not the kind of place a Crown Prince would usually be seen—but what people don’t know won’t hurt them.
“Go,” Alec says, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt.
“Three men. We saw them entering the studio with the correct passcode. Aaron hacked the booking records and double-checked, and it was definitely the right room. We subdued them and brought them here,” Preston says, then bows his head to me when I step out. “Your Royal Highness.”
“Good work,” I say, scanning the room. “Did they cause you much trouble?”
“It was no problem,” he replies, head still bowed. “Just one bloody nose for Sterling, but I doubt he even felt it.”
Alec snorts. “Good. Are they restrained?”
“Yes, they are, Your Grace.” Preston motions for us to follow him, and he leads us into another room where three haggard, beaten men are each chained to a wooden chair.
The tangy, cloying scent of blood hangs in the air, and one look at each of them confirms it’s coming from them.
The guy in the middle’s arm is hanging at the kind of angle that makes my toes curl, and there’s a semi-crusty trail of blood plastered to the side of his face that seemingly originates somewhere on his scalp.
The guy on the left has one eye swollen shut and his lip sliced in two, as well as a torn t-shirt revealing the beginnings of a bruise on his chest. The final guy, on the right, seems to have gotten off best—a bruise is blooming on his jaw, but that’s all I can see.
Alec is completely unbothered by the sight before us as he produces a cigarette box from his chest pocket and pulls one out.
It stays unlit, as always, with the cigarette nothing more than a prop for him to fidget with.
“So,” he says nonchalantly, pulling up a chair and sitting down with the air of someone without a care in the world. “Lovely weather we’re having.”
The guy on the left chair opens his non-swollen eye and scans us, then scoffs. “Fancy company.”
“Oh, this guy?” Alec cocks his thumb towards me. “No. You’re seeing things.”
“Didn’t think we’d meet the Crown Prince like this.”
“Well, you fucked with the wrong person.” The air chills with Alec’s cold smile. “See, the woman you tried to trick into a newborn photo shoot today happens to be very important to His Royal Highness. You really should have done your research before you agreed to that job.”
He laughs, a gravelly sound that grates on my nerves. “That so? Funny, ‘cause the person we hired said they were acting on his orders.”
“Interesting,” I say, stepping out into the light a little more. “Tell me; why would I have someone hire a few cheap bastards to hurt my fiancée?”
“Yes, darling, why would you?” Harriet’s voice rings out from behind me, and when I turn, I see her leaning against the hidden doorway, examining her nails. “You know, if you don’t want to marry me, I won’t hold it against you.” She pauses, peering up. “Well, on second thought, I might.”
I simply stare at her. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“Why not? My day freed up, you see, and I thought I’d pay a visit to the half-arsed thugs who intended to hurt me.
” She pushes off the doorframe and walks over to us.
Her light blonde hair seems to glow in the low light, and the heels of her boots click against the solid flooring.
She casts her sharp gaze over the three immobilised men and raises her eyebrows. “Oh, is that it? How disappointing.”
The guy in the middle leers at her. “Shame we missed out on you.”
I take a step forwards, but she’s closer, and in one swift move, she stabs her heel into his foot. He cries out and doubles over, but the chains stop him being able to reach her as she keeps pressing her weight into the point of the stiletto.
Alec looks at me with a grin on his face. “I like this one.”
“Then all of my goals for today have been achieved,” Hattie says dryly, digging her heel into the man’s foot one more time before stepping back. “There. Now you haven’t missed out on anything, princess.”
“I really like her.” Alec chuckles and stands up. “Alec—”
“Alecsander, Duke of Kilon,” Harriet says, turning and holding out her hand. “Thank you for what you’ve done for me today, Your Grace.”
Alec pauses, then takes her hand. Instead of shaking it, he draws it to his lips and presses a kiss to the back of her hand.
I glare at him.
That’s my hand to kiss, you bastard.
“The pleasure was all mine, Miss Sinclair.”
“Call me Harriet. ‘Miss Sinclair’ makes me nauseous.” She smiles coolly, taking her hand from his.
“Then call me Alec.”
“Happily,” she says, finally stepping away from him. “Have you found anything out?”
“You arrived quicker than we thought,” I say. “We just got here ourselves.”
“Oh.” She looks at me. “I’m surprised to see you here. Don’t you have anything better to do?”
“Other than deal with the motherfuckers who thought they could harm my fiancée?” I cup her chin, tilting her head back. “I think not.”
“Stop. You’re giving me a whole bunch of warm, fuzzy feelings,” she says flatly. “Well? Which idiot in my house hired them?”
“We were getting there before you arrived in a ball of venomous delight,” Alec replies, putting the cigarette back in its box.
“I’ll make sure that’s engraved on my tombstone.” Hattie gently removes my hand from her chin and lightly squeezes my fingers before letting go. “Well? Get on with it. My day might have opened up, but I have better things to do than look at their ugly faces.”