Max said, “Tommaso, it’s me, Maxence.”
Tommaso’s naturally bass voice rose to a pitch Max had never heard before. “Your Highness! Are you all right! Are you injured! Where are you and we will come to find you, Your Reverence Your Serene Highness my Prince!”
That was gratifying. At least some people had missed himthistime when he’d been kidnapped. “I am fine, Tommaso. Thank you for your concern. Has Dree Clark, my admin, been accounted for?”
“Oh, Your Highness, I’m so sorry. Last night after the incident at the Sea Change Gala, everything was in chaos. Miss Clark is on the list of people who are still unaccounted for.”
Terror stabbed into Max’s heart, caught fire, and turned to rage. His voice came out as a growl. “Did my cousin Nico survive?”
“No, sir, he didn’t. I’m sorry.”
Dark fire compressed in his chest like it would squeeze his heart until it popped. “I will be at the palace helipad momentarily. Tell no one that I’ve contacted you.”
“But, surely, you will need security. I will contact Colonel Sault—”
“No.Contact no one in our Secret Service or the police, and Quentin Sault is no longer the head of our Secret Service.”
“Has Colonel Sault—resigned?”
“He’s gone,” Maxence said.
“Yes, sir. Anything else,sir?”
“Meet me at the helicopter with fresh clothes and athletic shoes. Not a suit. Casual, and maybe black.” Max sniffed himself inside Arthur’s jacket and found himself disgusting. “Gauze bandages, a pack of those antiseptic wipes and ointment, and a stick of deodorant.”
“I will make arrangements for you,sir.”
“And Tommaso, tell no one about this who doesn’t have a need to know. You haven’t heard from me. No one has. You’re just packing a bag and going up to the roof for absolutely no reason.”
“Yes, sir. You can rely on me,sir!”
He ended the call and handed the phone back to Arthur.
Casimir asked him over the intercom, “Are you going to meet your palace staff dressed like you’ve been shipwrecked for a decade?”
Maxence shrugged. “This is what happens when my security services can’t do their job.”
As Arthur took the phone from Max, he took a second look at what Max was wearing. “Is that your new Kiton tuxedo you were having tailored?”
Maxence shrugged, waving his hands over his trousers torn off above his knees. “My first plan was to jump overboard and swim back to Monaco. I had to cut it down to swimming trunks.”
Arthur snorted. “Even I would’ve thought twice before shredding a Kiton tuxedo, and I would’ve submitted a receipt to Her Majesty for reimbursement.”
Maxence did not dignify that with a response.
“You’d lost most of your Tom Ford when we rescued you in Genoa a few months ago. You’re rather hard on tuxedos these days, aren’t you?”
Max ignored him. British people loved to insult you and then ask you to agree with them. “Dree might still have my phone. Can you track it?”
Arthur’s sigh whooshed through his headphones. “That involves hacking into the mobile phone system to track your phone’s pings on cell phone towers, and then triangulate a more precise location once we get closer to it. I don’t have the equipment with me to do that. I was on a different kind of trip when she called, and then we saw your spot of trouble on the telly. She might’ve just gone home with a friend because she was shaken up, you know.”
Max shook his head. “Her phone is out of service. And she didn’t pick up mine that she might still have with her, either. And there’s no way I could tell if she’s texted me because I don’t have my phone. Everything I need is on my damnphone.”
Arthur cleared his throat. “I might have access to some of it.”
Maxence popped his head up. “Arthur, did you clone my phone?”
“Why would I do such a thing?”
