Sunlight shone on her creamy skin and sparkled on her gold hair. Her expression was the smooth blankness of repressed heartache.
Yeah, Maxence was an asshole, but Dree Clark was going to stay alive and not be used as leverage against him.
When the election turned ugly, anyone would be fair game for use in bribery or threats.
He stared at the texts that were scrolling down his phone with a new and furious velocity.
People are saying Alexandre and Marie-Therese have heard from you. Are you all right?
Alex posted on the private loop that you’re alive.
Cousin, I extend my sincerest condolences and most heartfelt congratulations.
Your Serene Highness, may I introduce myself. I am the Monegasque Under-Secretary for—
MAX MAX WHERE ARE YOU ARE YOU OKAY?!?!?!?
If ever there were an inconvenient time to make your acquaintance—
Dude. S’up.
Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. Maxence, you need to get back to Le Rocher. Monaco is falling apart.
That last text was from Max’s second cousin Nicostrato Grimaldi, a minor nobleman whose father held a landed title, but he did have a voting seat on the Council of Nobles, or Crown Council, or whatever people were calling it this week. The name of the sovereign’s advisory committee had gone back and forth so many times that they had become synonymous.
Nico was astute when it came to people and politics.
Maybe he would have information.
Max tapped Nico’s text to call him.
After one ring, a crackle and fumbling thump issued from the phone pressed to Max’s ear.
Nico yelled, “Max, Max! Is it you? Are you still there?”
“Yes, I’m still here. Are you all right?” he asked.
Nico said, “I dropped the phone. Jesus, Max! Where are you? Are you hurt? Say a number between one and five if you need help.”
“Ten.I’m fine, Nico.” They went through the dance of assurances. Nico was a few years younger than Max, but they’d been friendly at boarding school and hung out often enough to know quite a bit about each other. “I’ll be back in Monaco later today.”
“Oh, thank God!”
“But I would like some reconnaissance. Could we meet?”
“Of course, cousin. Where?”
“I’ll be staying at my apartment in the palace and taking over the business office.”
“In thepalace?Are youinsane?”
“Pierre is dead, or so I’ve been told.”
Nico’s voice grated with sarcasm. “Yeah, and there’s certainlyno one elsewho might see you as a threat or an impediment, so staying inthemost obvious placein the middle of a bunch of soldiers who may or may not have some extra money in their pockets and some extra bullets in their guns is acompletely reasonabledecision.”
“Right. How about ten o’clock tomorrow morning?”
“Sure, if you’re still alive by then.”
