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.
40
ROWAN
Gabe closes the cell door, locking her in, and my fist slams into the wall. It’s fucking stone, and it hurts, and I likely broke something, but I don’t care. Gabe doesn’t react, and it’s one of the things I like most about him. He only speaks when necessary and never with disdain or judgment. He’s a facts guy, and that’s what I need right now.
I got the notification that she went into my room this morning. Then one that she left the palace. I called Gabe, and he tracked her. But I’ll be fucking honest, in all of the scenarios I conjured up, this isn’t it.
“How the fuck is she Samil’s half-sister? How the fuck did she get into the wedding and our palace, and how in the motherfuck does she know about Marie?”
I have a million more questions for her. A fucking million. But I had to get out of that room. Her tears were challenging me. The look of genuine concern over Bellamy softened me. For a moment, I saw her again. The woman with the scars on her back who would cry and rage and fight. Who had these moments that made me swear she wasn’t a monster.
But she is.
She’s my curse. I have no doubt about that in my mind. Because despite everything, I still fucking want her. I still want to take her in my arms and hold her and promise her everything. Despite all I heard in that room, I still want to be her hero. The one who fixes everything for her. But it's a ridiculous notion. She doesn’t need me to fix anything. She’s the one in control. She always has been.
I was her pawn while she played me like a queen.
I can’t be alone with her.
My hand throbs, my knuckles cracked as I rub it up my face. I’m bleeding, and I don’t care. Why her? Why not any of the countless women who have thrown themselves at me for years? Why is she the one I noticed? The one who saw beneath the crown? The one who got to me?
“She said she has no last name, had no IDs or documents. Same for the girl.”
“Yes.”
“Rowan, she doesn’t fucking exist. She’s a shadow. Their assassin.”
Pain twists my gut as I’ve never experienced before. His words hit me on an entirely different level. Her backpack sits on the floor by the door, and I pick it up, unzipping the threadbare thing and finding…all of her shit. Her entire life fits in this small backpack.
I would have given her the world. Dressed her in expensive clothes that only I would get to take off. Covered her in diamonds and filled her with my babies. That illusion of happiness is just that. An illusion. I knew it all along, but that pervasive hope kept me going. That ridiculous and dangerous four-letter word.
I drop her bag to the floor and storm down the hall only to twist and return. The children are upstairs with Althea and two attendants. I don’t know if the attendants caught up to Signoria Batorini or not, but I’m sure Gabe will check in. We didn’t bringextras. Gabe flew out of the palace and met me. Dumb fucking mistake.
At the very least, the children are safe, as are Bellamy and the twins.
So I have to focus on Marcella. On saving my family. On keeping us all safe and alive. Twenty minutes later, my brother’s shoes tap on the stone. I’m leaning against the wall, where I’ve been since I punched it, waiting on him.
“How’s Bellamy?” I ask before he can speak. “The twins?”
“The same as when you left them this morning.” He stops in front of me, and I can tell he’s noting my hand, but he doesn’t ask. He doesn’t have to. “Tell me everything.”
I blow out a breath and lift my chin. “Honestly, I think she needs to tell you.”
He searches my eyes. He’s calm. Eerily so, but I know him enough to know that the beast is raging right now. He should be furious with me. I hope he is.
“Okay. Let’s go in.”
Gabe unlocks the door but stands outside. He can see and hear everything in here, as it has cameras with audio. Sebastian enters first, his eyes on Marcella, who no longer has her wrists bound. She’s sitting on the bed with her legs folded as if she doesn’t have a care in the world. Holy shit. How’d she do that? Fucking assassin indeed.
I cock an eyebrow at the discarded zip tie on the bed.
“I have small hands,” is all she says, and I tuck in my smile. My fucking siren. A woman with the face and voice of an angel and the heart of a monster. Still, she shocks us both when she stands and curtsies at Sebastian. “Your Majesty, I’m sorry you had to leave your family. I know I have no credibility right now with anything, but truly, I hope Her Majesty and the twins are doing well. I was terribly worried yesterday morning.”
Sebastian takes the seat I was in before, and I hold the post Gabe had by the door.
“Marcella, who are you?”
