“Shhh. Don’t worry.” Liesel sat down next to her and patted her arm. “We’ll get everything sorted out eventually.” Then Liesel pinned a steely gaze on Emma. “But first we need to get you out of here before the story breaks.”
“What do you mean, out of here?” Maybe she should go hide in her room.
“Out of the castle. Out of Altaleone. Back to New York or New Jersey or wherever else you came from. You can go crawl back under your rock and leave us to pick up the pieces.”
“But Darias said he needed to stay married for a year.” They knew it all now, anyway.
Liesel gasped and looked around. “Did you hear how brazen she is? She admits it freely. What kind of girl can be bought for a year?”
A pretty stupid one, apparently. “I did it to help my brother.” Her voice was barely audible.
“Who is now bringing shame to the house of Leone.” Liesel shook her head. “You should never have invited him here.”
I didn’t. She wanted to say. It was Darias’s idea. But blaming someone else would hardly make her look good.
“What’s the problem anyway?” Chimed in Beatriz. “It’s hardly different from a conventional arranged marriage. Just that there’s a deadline at the end.”
“An arranged marriage is invariably with a highly suitable girl of good family. I’m calling my travel agent.” Liesel pulled a phone out of her pocket. “To get tickets for you and your brother on the first flight heading to New York.”
Emma wanted to point out that a) it was nighttime b) she’d have to fly somewhere else first as there were no direct flights from Altaleone to New York c) travel agents were a thing of the past. But apparently Liesel got someone on the phone and barked at her in German for about two minutes, then hung up with a satisfied smile. “There’s a shuttle to Vienna leaving tomorrow at ten, which connects to a flight to New York. Pack your bags, and I’ll drive you to the airport myself.”
“Hold on a moment.” Darias’s brother Sandro, who’d been watching the disaster unfold in the same stunned silence as everyone else, stood up. “Darias hasn’t said that he wants her to leave. He made this arrangement. Let him handle it.”
“Darias is the king,” said Liesel. “His foremost responsibility is to the crown and the state of Altaleone.”
“Which is exactly why he found and married Emma,” protested Sandro. “It seems obvious to me that he did it to make old fusty traditionalists like you happy. We all like Emma very much.” He turned to Emma. “Don’t go. At least not without discussing any plans with Darias. He deserves that much.”
She nodded. She’d had no intention of going anywhere. “Of course.”
“Perhaps we should all leave Emma in peace,” continued Sandro. “She’s probably not really in the mood for entertaining.”
She swallowed. Truer words had never been said.
“Your tickets will be at the Lufthansa counter.” Liesel scrolled through a message on her phone, then rose with an arch look. “All the arrangements are made.”
Emma nodded an insincere thanks. Should she use it?
No.
Darias’s answer to the question about whether he loved her rang in her head like a tolled bell. Maybe it would be best for everyone if she did leave. Now they all had to keep the secret that their marriage was a pretense, a charade to keep up for one short year.
She pulled out her phone as they all left, punched up Darias’s number and texted: Did you find Jonas?
Should I stay? That’s what she really wanted to ask.
Yes. He was at The Ram, about to have a drink.
Exactly what she’d imagined. Jonas would throw everything she’d compromised herself for down the drain. And why shouldn’t he? He hadn’t asked her to sacrifice her integrity for him.
But don’t worry, Darias wrote, I stopped him.
She sighed. Darias was effortlessly capable. Everything he tried led to success, from what she could see. If he could manage not to get killed by the mysterious assassins who’d murdered his forebears, he’d live long and prosper and forget all about her and their strange deal.
I’ll come meet you, she replied.
She knew where The Ram was, right in the middle of the village, on the town square. She walked past the staff—now cleaning up the remains of their picnic using outdoor floodlights—and out into the street. It was odd, rather awesome really, that royals could just walk around the town like regular people.
Not that she was really royal, of course. Casteleone was one of the safest places on earth, partly because it was really tiny and everyone knew everyone else. Wrought iron lampposts held electric lanterns that cast picturesque shadows across the cobbled streets.
She turned away from the castle onto the tree-lined avenue leading to the main square, resolving not to put Darias on the spot about whether she should leave. This whole charade was his idea, and she’d wait to see what he suggested.
Hopefully, he wouldn’t be too mad. Either way she’d try to be brave and—
A scented cloth closed over her mouth and a hard arm grabbed her around the waist, tugging her off her feet. She tried to scream, but the sound got lost in her throat as sudden blackness enveloped her.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“Wake up!” The words penetrated Emma’s consciousness like a slap stung her cheek. Female voice. “I need proof that you’re alive. Stop looking so dead.”
Thoughts foggy, she couldn’t make sense of the words. “Where am I?”
“Doesn’t matter. Open your eyes.”
Her mind fought against whatever they’d drugged her with. “Have I been kidnapped?
The woman’s hollow laugh chilled her. “Yes, darling. Yes, you have.”
“What do you want?”
“Information, that’s all. From your husband.” The sneering way she said the last word made Emma wonder if she knew their marriage was phony. Maybe they had found the missing contract.
Emma blinked against the light as her eyes cracked open. The woman wore a mask. A Cross of Blood mask, like the secret members had worn the night they’d come to the castle. Her gut clenched. Were they going to kill her? She didn’t trust that group one bit.
“Your husband keeps texting you. He’s getting worried.”
“He’s right to be worried,” she murmured, trying to get a good look at the room. She lay on her back on the hard surface of a long table, her hands and feet tied to the legs with something. Bare plaster walls, no furniture except a nearly empty bookcase. No windows. Must be some kind of a basement. “What information do you want?”
“A number. You’re going to call and ask him for it.
Emma recognized her voice from somewhere. She had a good ear for voices and remembered them much more easily than names or faces. She racked her mind, scrolling through people she’d met at the wedding, the coronation, until it dawned on her. This masked woman was Gemma, the one who had given Darias the gold cross but later turned out not to be a member of the Cross of Blood. What was she up to?
The woman held the phone up to her face. Unpainted nails and clean, soft hands. “When he answers, you’re going to tell him you’ve been kidnapped, and you need to know the code for the Cross of Blood account.”
“What makes you think there is one?”
She snorted. “None of your business. Ask him for it, then shut up while he says it. You can cry, though, or beg for mercy.”
She heard the phone ring, then Darias answer, “Emma, where are you?”
“I’ve been kidnapped.” She couldn’t see any reason to keep that secret. “They want a number. A bank account code or something.” She sounded strangely calm. Probably shock. Would he even believe her?”
“Where are you?” The tension in his voice told her instantly that he did believe her.
“I don’t know. Some kind of basement.” The woman snatched the phone away from her face and put it to her own. “The number now or she dies.” She attempted to conceal her voice by rasping.
&n
bsp; “I don’t know what number you’re talking about.”
“Don’t be stupid. I’m holding a gun to her head right now.”
Emma wondered whether to yell, “She’s not!” but decided that might actually get her killed. She was pretty sure there was another person in the room, and they might have a gun.
“Emma, are you okay?” She could hear Darias’s voice even from far away.
“I am.”
“Shut up.” The woman smacked her across the mouth with her free hand. “The number now!”
“Um, hold on. Let me try to figure out which number you’re talking about. I only just joined the Cross of Blood. Maybe I should call them and—”
He was stalling. Emma could tell. Darias always spoke directly, with few wasted words. Maybe Gibran was with him right now, tracing the location of the call.
“Don’t call anyone.” Gemma—Emma was now nearly 100 percent sure—forgot to conceal her voice. Then she cleared her throat and started rasping again. “You were given the code during the initiation.”
“Was I? I don’t remember that.” Emma didn’t remember it either, but then she hadn’t heard the whole thing. “Maybe they decided to keep it secret. Is this why my father and grandmother died? Greed for money in some secret account they probably didn’t know about either?”
She heard Darias’s voice grow louder, even though the phone was several feet from her head.
“What is the number?” hissed Gemma.
“I told you, I’ll have to find out. Hold on. I have an idea. Let me go look at…” Emma couldn’t make out what he was saying. Or it didn’t make any sense.
“Don’t toy with me.” Gemma forgot to disguise her voice again. She moved toward Emma and pinched her hard on the arm. She didn’t cry out, so Gemma pulled her hair with vicious strength until an involuntary squeal left her mouth.
Gemma stared right at her, still tugging hard on her hair. “Am I hurting you, Emma?”
“Y…yes.”
“See, Darias? You need to pay attention. The number now! I’m going to call back in two minutes and you need to give it to me or you’re going to hear your wife die over the phone.”
She hung up. “Shit, I wonder if he’s tracing the call. I felt like he was just dragging it out.”
“He’s probably already given his phone to the chief of security.” Emma felt strangely calm and brave herself. At least Darias wasn’t here to get hurt or killed.
“Shut up.” She dropped her hair and smacked her again, making her cheek sting. “If he comes with anyone, we’ll kill you. You need to tell him that when we call back.”
Horror tightened Emma’s gut. The words that emerged in her mind were a mix of self-preservation and the ugly truth. “You can go ahead and kill me. He wouldn’t care.”
“What?” A male voice. From behind her head where she couldn’t see him. “Why not?”
“He doesn’t love me.” Maybe if she could convince them she was useless, they’d let her go without involving Darias. She didn’t want him to come here and end up dead, like his relatives.
Should she keep what was left of their secret or spill it to try to save them both?
“He only married me because he had to. We barely know each other. We already have plans to part after a year.”
The male let out a string of curses.
“She’s bluffing.” The girl again. “It’s nonsense. I’ve known him long enough to tell when he’s serious about something.”
If only that were true.
“Are you sure your greed hasn’t blinded you? If your plans made any sense we’d have got the code from the old lady. I’ve done everything you asked, and we still don’t have it.”
“We will. Stay calm. He was initiated into the Cross of Blood so he knows the code. All we have to do is get it out of him.”
“We could have just sold the damn cross when we had it. But no! You had to give it back to him into a dramatic gesture.” The young man’s voice grew whiny.
“You can’t fence something like that. It would have to be melted down and go for a fraction of its value. I only got it because I hoped the code was in it or on it somewhere. Focus on what we’re doing.” She hissed the last words angrily.
“But if he doesn’t give a rat’s ass about her…” His voice spat the last word in Emma’s direction. “He won’t come and he won’t tell us the number.”
“Trust me.”
“I’ve done everything you asked and look where the hell we are.” His voice was rough with desperation.
“I didn’t tell you to throw that stupid firework. What the hell were you thinking?”
“I got him to join the Cross of Blood, didn’t I?”
While they argued back and forth, Emma focused intently on the strips of fabric—bandages, maybe?—binding her hands and feet to the table. It was slightly stretchy, so if she could manage to move a hand or foot enough, without it being visible, of course, she might be able to—
“Stop moving!” The woman’s hand slapped her across the face again. Her cheek smarted from the repeated blows. Then she pulled up Emma’s phone. “It’s time to call him again. Just tell him to say the code or you die right now.” She punched in his number, then held the phone up to Emma’s face.
Blinking, Emma heard it ring. Her gut clenched as Darias’s low voice answered. “I know what code you’re talking about, but I have to go get it.”
“Be careful, Darias. They’re armed.” She had a gut feeling he was on his way here.
Gemma snatched the phone away. “The code, this instant, or she’s dead.”
“Gemma, is that you?” Emma heard Darias’s words.
Gemma panicked and hung up the phone. “Shit!” Emma could only see her out of the corner of her eye, from where she lay on the table. “He knows it’s me.”
“Why did you hang up? How can he give you the code? Give the phone to me.” The young man wrenched it rudely from her. He punched something, and she heard Darias answer immediately and ask, “Where are you?”
“Darias—if you don’t give me the code right now, your queen gets a bullet in her brain.” She heard a click and cold metal pushed against her temple.
She couldn’t stop a panicked whimper. The man, also masked, pushed it against her head harder. “Tell him I’m serious.”
“He has a gun.…” Her voice was a shaky whisper. She tried to sound louder. “A gun pressed to my head.”
“If you injure one hair on her head you will die today.” She heard Darias’s steely voice through the phone.
“Idle threats. You don’t know where I am.”
“That’s what you think.”
BOOM. Something pounded hard against the door. “What the—?” Her two assailants stood frozen for a second, then the man pulled the gun from her head, aimed it at the door and fired. The loud sound and the crunch of the bullet hitting the door made Emma scream. “Darias, he’s armed. Don’t come in.”
With a loud crunching sound, the heavy wood door exploded out of its doorway, and Gibran ploughed in over it and fired a bullet right into the armed man, hitting his arm, which dropped the gun.
Gemma reached for the fallen gun, but a guard launched from behind Gibran and pinned her to the floor, then another guard pushed the injured kidnapper to the floor. Emma fought against her bonds, cries for help pealing from her mouth even though she knew she should wait.
Darias crashed in from behind Gibran. “Thank God you’re okay.” The sight of him sent relief and waves of panic and joy pouring through her. He tugged at the bandages binding her left hand, then pulled a Swiss army knife from his pocket and slit them all. In seconds she was in his arms, pulled tight against his chest.
Her heart beat furiously as emotion swept through her. “I didn’t want you to come. They might have tried to kill you. I think they killed your father and grandmother because they wouldn’t give them a secret code from the Cross of Blood.” She spewed it out in a jumbled rush, wanting him to know that these
were the murderers.
“We didn’t kill them,” Gemma protested. “We never killed anyone. We just want the money.” She was handcuffed and being led out by Gibran’s men. Her accomplice had already left, a trail of blood following him from his wounded arm.
“We’ll let the law figure that out.”
“What day is it? Have I missed my plane?” She didn’t want him to think that she imagined this somehow let her off the hook. She lowered her voice. “I told them about…you know.” She glanced at Gibran and the men, who probably still didn’t know that their marriage was a sham. Or maybe everyone knew by now. It might have leaked out if the family members were talking.
Darias’s face hardened, and he pulled back from her and inhaled. She braced herself for whatever he might say. “Emma Leone, I’m ashamed of myself for even thinking I could do such a thing. What kind of man asks a warm, kind and loving woman to sell her soul for a year?”
She swallowed. What kind of woman would agree? He must think very little of her now.
“And then bed her, to boot? What kind of a man does that?” He shook his head, dark eyes gleaming with…something. “I don’t know if I can ever forgive myself.”
“It’s okay. I shouldn’t have said yes, but I did.” Her heart was breaking. Darias would send her away. Neither of them should ever have embarked on such a deceitful course. Lying to his closest relatives, the people of Altaleone and the entire world. Now the truth was out he felt rightfully embarrassed—ashamed—by what he’d done. He would make amends. Maybe give her more money to hide herself away with and—
“I deserve to be horsewhipped for even coming up with such a despicable plan.”
She wanted to point out that it was actually Sandro’s idea, but that probably wouldn’t help anyone. “You did it for your mom,” she said. “And I did it for my brother. We didn’t want to hurt anyone.” She already forgave herself. Yes, the aftermath would hurt like heck, but she’d get through it.
Darias nodded, sudden tears glittered in his eyes. Was he thinking about how devastated his mom was by the crushing news that it was all fake?
“Emma Leone. I wish our marriage had started in truth and honesty, and with all the love and honor that I intend to shower on you for the rest of our lives together.”
The King's Bought Bride (Royal House of Leone Book 1) Page 20
