“Jeez, what is it with these Russian criminal oligarchs?” Georgie asked, shaking her head. “Literally, just over a month ago, my narcissistic mother was going to let one of them kill me becausesheowed them money and wouldn’t come out of her panic room.”
With that, Dree felt a kindred soul standing beside her. “What did you do to get away from them?”
Georgie winced. “Long story. People died. What about you?”
“I was tied up, so I flopped my way toward a door like I was breakdancing the inchworm, and Maxence carried me out with friends and a helicopter.”
“That was lucky.”
“I’ll say.”
“I’m so glad Maxence wasn’t hurt last night. Alexandre was freaking out and calling everybody to make sure they were okay, but at least we didn’t have to worry about Max. The news said his security dragged him right out of there and flew him off in a helicopter from the roof. That was smart of them to have it staged up there, just in case.”
“Oh, that’s not what happened,” Dree said. “Some of Monaco’s Secret Service guys committed treason and kidnapped him. He only figured it out when they were dragging him out of the convention center.”
Georgie stared at her. “Holycrap!That’snotwhat the news said.”
“Yeah, I think they made it look like that on purpose.”
“How did he get away? Did he fight them off?”
“I never got a straight answer out of him. He just shrugged and said he walked away when they weren’t looking.”
Georgie frowned. “But, they had him in a helicopter. Where’d they take him?”
“He didn’t say,” Dree told her, getting more concerned by the minute.
“And he just—walked away.”
“That’s what he told me.”
Georgie’s brown eyebrows dropped. “I guess that could happen.”
“Right?I think he’s not telling me everything.”
She nodded. “It took me a long time to pry some stuff out of Alexandre. He still needs to be prodded sometimes.”
Dree asked Georgie, “So, you’ve seen the news, you said. How many people didn’t make it out last night?”
Georgie bit one side of her lip, and her eyebrows dipped hard. “They’re saying twenty people confirmed dead and six more in the hospital.”
Dree cringed inwardly, remembering the damage high-power guns inflicted on human bodies. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.”
Georgie nodded. “And all the saints.”
Marie-Therese Grimaldi, Maxence’s first cousin, wore a red dress that hugged her slim body and was laughing as she spoke with some of the other people Dree recognized from Maxence’s office visits. She seemed elated by the turn of events, an effervescent laugh bubbling up her body as she held court for the people around her. Marie-Therese’s long black hair was curled and trailed over her shoulders and somehow, perfectly framed her boobs. It must have been hair-sprayed onto the fabric of her dress.
She didn’t look like she’d been thrown in a delivery van and dragged around the French countryside all night.
Really, Marie-Therese looked like she’d just stepped out of a salon.
Instagram-ready,so to speak.
Huh.
Marie-Therese’s father, the short and stocky Prince Jules, stood beside her, plucking at her arm. Every so often, she said something to him, grinning, and then returned to posing for the cell phones.
Dree nodded toward Marie-Therese and her entourage in the middle of the throne room. “Doesn’t look like she’s too surprised about the turn of events. Why am I not shocked?”
