Chapter 39 – Marcella
MARCELLA
Rowan doesn’t speak to me the entire drive back.
I don’t know what to do. If I tell him about the Signoria and they go after her, Jaqueline is dead.
If I don’t get to the king’s computer, she’s dead.
If I tell him the truth, he might not believe me.
At the very least, he’ll have to investigate, and that includes looking into the drive.
But the moment it’s inserted into anything, it’ll notify the Signoria, and she’ll know I’ve been compromised, and again, Jaqueline will die.
I don’t care about me in this. I never looked at my life with any longevity in mind. I’m far from innocent, and I deserve whatever I get. But Jaqueline doesn’t. She’s so young. There’s still a chance for her in this world. But I have to get her out.
For all I know, Signoria could have seen what happened outside of the hotel, and it’s already too late. Dread pools like boiling oil in my gut. All I wanted from this was to save Jaqueline and save the royal family. Now everything is sideways.
But the facts remain the same. If I want to save Jaqueline, if I want to save the king, I have to act. I just don’t know how to make it all work now that I can’t track Signoria since they confiscated my phone, and I’m trapped here.
We arrive back at the palace, but I’m not brought in through the front.
We drive around to the side, stopping before the garages without pulling in.
The car shuts off, and the driver gets out.
My door is opened, and he uses my bound wrists to haul me out of the car.
Rowan follows. The sound of car doors slamming shut behind me is deafening.
There’s a side entrance over here that I never paid much attention to, except that I know where it leads.
The door is unlocked with a code, then we’re walking down a steep flight of stairs.
The cellar is dark and has an earthy undertone to it.
Probably because it’s ancient and it shows it.
The floors are stone, the doors are short and metal.
This is one of the original palaces built in this country, and it’s centuries old.
We reach a room, and I frown at the sight of it. There’s a bed, a table, a chair, and nothing else. No bars either. Just a heavy, old door.
The man holding my wrists, whose name I still haven’t gotten, walks me in before he releases me. The door shuts, but I’m not alone. My backpack is tossed onto the table, but it’s useless to me now. Rowan takes a seat while the large man stands at the door.
I might have better luck without him here, but it seems I don’t get the choice.
“Rowan—”
“What do you know about Marie Elonaise?” he cuts me off, and I startle at the question, my eyebrows taking a nosedive.
“Why are you asking me about Marie?”
His jaw locks, and his eyes harden. “Tell me!” he shouts, shocking me with his vehemence. I sit on the bed, my wrists behind me since they haven’t cut the ties.
“She took the princess.”
His eyes widen, and he exchanges glances with the man before he returns to me. “How do you know that?”
I tilt my head, squinting at him. “How did you know about her?”
“I’m asking the questions, Marcella. Was that Marie you were meeting with?”
“No.”
His arm slashes the air. “Don’t lie to me. We have people arriving at the hotel now, ready to intercept and bring her in.”
My stomach plummets, and my eyes close. Fuck. “Rowan, you can’t. Please, I’m begging you not to.”
He ignores that, and a sob locks in my throat.
“Who was it then? Who are you working for and what are they after?”
“Let me go, and I’ll give you everything you’re after. I swear I will. Please. It’s the only way to save everyone.”
I get a wry smirk. “That’s not how it works, sweetheart. You’re not going anywhere other than to prison after we interrogate you.”
I don’t care about prison. He can threaten me all he wants, but I’ve lived in one my entire life. “Don’t intercept her. Please. Please, please, don’t. If you do, a young girl will die. Follow her all you want, but please don’t confront her.”
With any luck, she left before their guards got there, but I don’t know for sure, and I can’t check my phone since it’s in my backpack.
He stares me down, then, after an interminable minute, gives a short nod. The guy pulls out his phone and texts someone, and I breathe a little easier, but not much.
“Tell me how you know about Marie.”
I fall back on the bed, my hands beneath me, and I twist my wrists while I look up at the stone ceiling. “What’s the deal for me with this?”
“Pardon?” He laughs the word. “I’m sorry, you think you get something out of this? You know about the woman who took my sister. That’s treason, Marcella. Punishable by death.”
I sit back up and meet his gaze head-on. “She’s thirteen. Has no birth certificate. No national identification number. No last name. Same as me.”
He blinks at me. “Same as you?”
“Rowan, I will tell you everything because I want you to know it. Because holding onto these secrets isn’t going to help or save anyone. Not even Jaqueline. But she’s only thirteen.” A tear hits my cheek that I can’t wipe away. “She has a good heart, and she will die tonight if we don’t stop it.”
“Who is she?”
“My half-sister.”
He pauses for a moment. “What are you asking for?”
I look up at the ceiling, willing the tears back. I blow out a heavy breath, then say, “If by some miracle she doesn’t die, if she’s able to be rescued, get her real paperwork, find her a good home where she’s loved, and educate her. That’s all I want.”
“You’re not asking for anything for yourself?”
My lips twist into a rueful smile. “I think it’s pretty obvious my life isn’t going very far from here. It likely never was.”
He looks like he’s about to break in two. “It didn’t have to be like this. You could have come to me. You could have said something. I would have helped you and her.”
“You wouldn’t have once you found out who we belong to.”
He rises and cups my face to wipe my tears, standing over me. “Who do you belong to?”
“Signoria Batorini.”
He stiffens.
“That’s the woman you saw me meeting with today. Samil was my half-brother. Jaqueline’s half-brother. We share the same father. Signoria Batorini is my stepmother.”
His hands drop from my face, and he steps back like he’s been struck, and any love and softness I saw in him a moment ago are gone. Just like that. As I knew it would be.
“You broke into the wedding…”
“For intel. Not to harm anyone. Signoria and Antonia—”
“Who’s Antonia?”
Jesus, this is complicated. I lick my lips, tasting the salt from my tears. “What do you want to know first?”
He glances over at the man but just as quickly returns to me. “The wedding. Tell me about the wedding, I guess.”
“They wanted intel on what people were saying about Samil, if the queen genuinely loved the king or if she was after his money and title, and if we could use her against the king. We also wanted to know how easy it would be to break through your security and gain access to the royal family.”
“We?”
I swallow and nod. “Yes. We. That includes me.”
“And me?” he barks, heat rising up his face. “What was fucking me? What about giving me your virginity, or was that part of the act and all bullshit too?”
I glance at the man by the door, and this pisses Rowan off.
“Don’t look at him,” he snaps, his tone mocking and mean. “He doesn’t give a shit about who you fuck or how you use your body to get what you need. But I do.”
Ouch. Not that I can blame him for that. “I didn’t use you, and my virginity was real. I had no intention of even meeting you that night. I was to break in, blend in, listen, watch, then leave with intelligence we could use.”
“And after that?” he growls.
“I hacked into your system, changed my face on your videos and how you had it in your facial recognition software. I was given a set of IDs that could pass any security. A family that owes the Signoria a lot of money became my family and references, and I started working in the palace.”
“With the goal of…”
I swallow. Here it comes. “With the goal of taking down the king.”
“Jesus fucking Christ.” He paces away from me and collapses back into the chair, his elbows on his knees, his hands over his mouth as he appraises me with disbelief and anger.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Marcella. I’m the dumbest motherfucker on the planet.
I knew you were dangerous. Hell, you told me you were, and I was stupid enough to believe that there was good in you.
That you were under the thumb of someone else.
Love and lust really are blind, aren’t they? ”
I can’t stop my grimace or the way his words sear through me.
My insides rattle, and my heart that was barely held together comes apart, bleeding me dry with no way to hide it.
I could tell him I changed course after getting to know the family and him.
I could tell him that I wasn’t going to do any of it.
That I was going to kill the Signoria and Antonia.
But what’s the point?
It’s better if he hates me. Nothing was ever going to come of us anyway. Obviously. I mean, how could it?
“I knew you broke into the wedding. I knew you were up to no good. And yet I allowed you near my family.”
“I wasn’t going to hurt them,” I whisper under my breath, though I don’t know why I bother. Maybe because I can’t stand to see him blaming himself for the position I put him in.
He laughs bitterly. “Right. Just my brother then. The king of my country.”
“Is there a reason the woman wanted to meet you at the hotel today?” the man asks, his voice rich and deep.
“Yes. I have a midnight deadline to plant something on the king’s computer.” And kill him, but what’s the point in saying that? I wasn’t going to do that part of this anyway. Hell, I wasn’t going to do any part of it.
“You have to plant—” Rowan’s phone rings, cutting him off.
He checks it and answers immediately, his eyes on me.
“Hey. I have her in one of the prisoner rooms. Sebastian, this is so fucked I hardly know where to begin.” He listens for a moment.
“No, you’re not coming back here. Bellamy had surgery not even six hours ago, and the twins are in the NICU. ”
I gasp. Oh my god. “Are they okay?”
He scoffs at me. “Like you give a shit.”
My chin drops, and shame spirals through me along with a bone-deep sadness.
“Fine. I’ll see you soon.” He ends the call. “Congratulations. You’ve pulled my brother out of the hospital and away from his wife and newborn children.”
He stands, his gaze colder than ice and filled with a loathing there is no coming back from.
“You can explain the rest to us when he returns. As for your Jaqueline, she’s likely as evil as you are. Right now, I see no reason to help you with anything. If she dies, it’ll be on your conscience, not mine.”
He nods to his security guy, and the two leave me here alone, taking my backpack with them. The metal door grates as it locks me in here, and all hope dies.