Parker, a step behind River, paled.
“You stay here,” I told him. “Keep Abs and Trink from worrying too much.”
Parker’s face visibly relaxed, and I pushed past him, taking the stairs two at a time. My phone buzzed again.
Unknown Number: Don’t try to bring the authorities onto the island. If we hear a chopper, she’s
I stumbled to a halt, brain whirring. Shit. Lucian was on his way. He’d charter a helicopter from the mainland.
“What now?” River asked, looking over my shoulder. I swiped away from the message, opening my text thread with Lucian.
Henry: I’m safe. Ri is not. Stay on the mainland or you could get her killed. DO NOT CHOPPER OUT HERE UNTIL YOU HEAR FROM ME AGAIN
“Uh, isn’t that going to freak him out?” River asked.
“Probably. But he’ll follow orders.” I swallowed back bile, climbing the steps once more. “I’m sorry you’re caught up in this.”
“I’d rather be caught up than let you deal with this alone.” River shrugged. “It’s a hazard of being billionaire adjacent, I guess—getting dragged into someone abducting your business partner’s wife. Do you think they want to blackmail you?”
A dark, twisted guffaw ripped from me. I was teetering on the brink of hysteria. If blackmail was the intention, I’d do it. I’d do whatever they asked of me if it would protect her.
The sun had set by the time we picked our way through the hazardous ruins of the main resort building, and in through the gapingmaw that had once been a grand lobby. The place stunk of rot and mildew, and vines had snaked their way over the reception desk and the skeletons of abandoned wicker furniture. I checked the location pin.
“We need to head down that way,” I murmured, pointing to one corridor that disappeared into the gloom a few steps in.
“What do they want with you anyway?” River mumbled. “It must be something huge if they’re willing to resort to kidnap and death threats to get it.”
And the realisation struck me—if their goal was simply to take Ri back to Romania, there was no need to involve me, to lure me here.
What was I about to walk into?
It doesn’t matter. You’ll do it to save her.
… the princess arrived at a five-star hotel in Bucharest, anxiety a pulsing thrum in her blood. Two nights. It was only two nights with her fiancé, and then she would be on a plane to Sydney, with no intention to return for four whole years.
The hotel was modern and opulent; it made the palace look mouldering and out of date. The bed was like a cloud, the furnishings tasteful, and the vodka in the fridge went down like silk. She’d had enough to take the edge off her nerves. He was in the room next to hers, and it was as if she could feel his intentions through the wall.
A knock sounded on the door, and her heart jumped into her throat. She forced out, “Come in.” Her voice was thick with fear.
The door clicked open, and he slid inside, handsome smile not reaching his calculating eyes. Her stomach churned.
“How are you feeling,draguta?” he asked solicitously, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. She compulsively scooted up towards the pillows, away from him. His eyes followed the movement, fingers twitching on the comforter.
“Excited … and nervous,” she admitted, clearing her throat to try and banish the tremor in her voice. “I … I must thank you again, Mr Dalca, for giving me this opportunity to learn abroad.”
His smile widened, baring too-white teeth. She was sure he’d had veneers. “Irina, you must call me Calin. We are engaged, we should be more … familiar with one another.”
The words, the slimy tone of his voice, sent goosebumps skittering over her skin. “It will be a long engagement,” she mumbled. “My degree is four yearsfull time.”
His finger trailed circles on the bedspread, inching ever closer to her bare foot. God, she wanted to scream, to leap from the bed. Anything.
“Itisa long time to be apart. I wonder if we should consummate our betrothal. I do not wish to send my wife-to-be off into the world, unaware of the pleasures of a marriage bed.
The blood drained from the princess’s face, and his eyes sharpened. “You are untouched, are you not, Irina?”
She forced herself to nod. “I have not … with a man,” she stammered.
His smile turned wicked. “But you have on your own?” He turned, sliding up the bed and closer to her. “Have you experimented with what it feels like to be filled between your legs, Irina?”
