by S. E. Rose
Dad always says he wishes I had more of a female presence in my life, but I have loved being one of the boys. My brothers never treated me any different because I was a girl or because I was small. In fact, they proudly bragged to their friends that their little sister could punch like a dude, throw a ball farther than any of their friends, and climb a tree higher than even they could. Meanwhile, I let Auntie Lara think she was helping to raise a lady. And now, I am like two different people in one body. I can play the part of the prim and proper princess, or I can be me, the hacking, ass-kicking, rulebreaker.
I break off from my stream of conscious thoughts and focus back on the matter at hand. As I continue to piece the puzzle together, I start wishing that someone, anyone knew my secret. What became an obsession all those years ago, now feels like an albatross around my neck.
I’m distracted when I find an interesting document in the police file on Leah Winters’s death. It looks like a marriage certificate, but the names are smudged, as is the date. I can make out an “ea” in the first name of one person and an “rd” in the other person’s name. I gasp, could Edvard and Leah have been secretly married?
By 8:00 a.m., I look at the giant chalkboard that I’m guessing belonged to my grandmother. At the top of it is “Logan Winters Hansen” and then everything else I have figured out over the past four hours.
I make three columns: “Truths,” “Maybe,” and “Questions.” I stare at it for a long moment and then add a fourth column, “Lies.”
Under Truths, I write:
Logan is twenty-six.
Logan was born in Montelandia.
Logan’s mother is Leah Winters.
Logan’s grandparents, Vera and Ned, live in Pittsburgh.
Logan currently runs charters on a sailboat that he owns.
Logan is…I stop myself from writing hot. Because that was the first thing that came to mind when I found a picture of him on the Internet. Instead, I write “Logan is in trouble.”
Under Maybe, I write:
King Edvard is likely Logan’s father.
Edvard and Leah secretly married?
His mother, Leah, somehow met Edvard while living in Europe, although how and when is unclear.
Under Questions, I write:
Why did she go to the Bahamas?
Why is there a bounty on Logan?
Who put the bounty on Logan?
Why does Edvard not look for him, if Logan is his son?
Does Edvard know he has a son?
And under Lies, I write:
Logan’s real name is not Winters.
I look at my program that is scanning still. I see some answering of the bounty on Logan and my heart sinks. These are professionals. These are assassins bidding on a chance at fifty million dollars. Now, that number is high, but it’s also low. It’s quite frankly a curious amount. I have seen some bounties online before. I typically get them in front of a guy at Interpol, codename Beavis (yeah, it’s what you think), and he handles it. Beavis is also a hacker, but I found out through my hacking skills who he actually works for. We have never met, but I trust him after he warned me about a possible attempt on my father’s life three years ago. An eye for an eye as they say, so I have thrown him bits and pieces when I see something suspect. However, something is stopping me from doing that this time. Is it boredom? Is it because this guy could be a prince and the next heir to the throne of Montelandia?
It’s when I see the messages go offline to a new chat that my heart sinks farther. The winning bid is from Martin Mayhem, or that’s his online name, M for short. I’ve seen him bid on a lot of bounties for taking out bad guys, cartel thugs, coup leaders, and the like, but this is unlike his norm and that concerns me even more.
I’m so sucked into everything that I almost miss my text from my secretary, Shannon.
Shannon: Breakfast and then we have a meeting with the head of Fostering Love for Foster Children.
I groan. I want to stay and see what happens next, but I also know I can’t do anything out of the ordinary, or I’ll get caught.
I head downstairs after resetting my search. Everyone is already seated at the breakfast table, which means, I’m in trouble.
I sit, and my father clears his throat. “Susanna,” he begins. I lose focus after that because he drones on about my duties and being on time and my head is always in the clouds. At some point, I notice Mia Edgewater, Chris’s secretary, enter the room, curtsy toward my dad, and then discreetly whisper something in Chris’s ear.
“Father, if you’ll excuse me, I’m afraid my next appointment arrived early,” he says, nodding toward our father and placing his napkin on the table.
My father tosses his hand toward him, essentially excusing him from the table.
I watch Chris leave right behind Mia. I have suspected for some time now that those two are having an affair. Chris refuses to let on, but as he places his hand on her lower back as they exit, I notice his hand slides down toward her ass. I fight every natural urge to roll my eyes and instead focus back on my dad, who is now asking me what I have left to do for my degree. I sigh. I swear we just chatted about this.
“I have two papers left to turn in, and I’m done,” I say to him. I’m actually done, I just need to hit send, but the longer I wait, the more time I buy myself to keep being a student with no responsibilities.
“Very good. Will there be a graduation ceremony? You’ll need Shannon to work with Marcus to coordinate the logistics,” my father reminds me. I nod. My graduation is scheduled for a month from now. That means security concerns, pomp and circumstance issues, and the like because the king will be there. I hold out hope that something will come up so that I don’t have to attend it. Although I’m not overly worried because Shannon and Marcus have been coordinating this since I started the damned degree.
Marcus enters the dining room and clears his throat. My dad nods toward him. He gives the most imperceptible bow and walks back out.
“I have a meeting with the prime minister. Auggie, please make sure you don’t get in trouble on your trip. Remember, you are there in an official capacity,” he says to my brother with a raised eyebrow.
My brother looks a little sheepish and nods. Auggie’s last official visit was to Spain. He ended up making the tabloids when he was spotted partying all night in Ibiza with some tourists. Needless to say, Dad was not pleased.
I turn to Auggie, trying desperately to remember what trip he is going on. My brothers are much more in the public eye than I am, especially since I’ve been at school.
“Where are you going?” I ask him.
He shrugs. “Bahamas, some sort of charity thing. Chris was supposed to go, but he apparently has something more important to do.” Auggie trails off and looks toward the door.
I nod. Auggie and I both know that Mia is likely more than Chris’s secretary. Then it dawns on me like a lightning bolt strike.
“Can I come with you?” I ask him.
Auggie’s mouth opens and closes a few times because I have never once asked to go anywhere with him on any sort of official business.
“W-why?” he finally manages to stammer out.
“Because…I…need the practice,” I say, trying to sound resolute.
He gives me “the look,” the one that says I can’t fool him.
“Fine, I really want to get away for a few days before I have to start thinking about the real world,” I say, which isn’t exactly a lie. I do, in fact, want to get away for a few days; it’s just these few days are more about potentially rescuing a maybe prince from certain death. I need to get back online pronto and figure out the specs on the bounty job that M has accepted.
“So, you seriously want to come with me?” Auggie asks again, as though finally processing that I do indeed want to go with him.
I punch him in the arm. “Ow!” he says, shaking out his arm.
“Don’t be a pansy. Yes, I’m coming, end of,” I say to him as I walk out of the dining room.
“Shit,” I mutter turning to face Shannon.
“Where in the bloody hell do you think you are going?” she asks.
“I…uh…upstairs?” I ask. Shannon is ten years older than me and acts like both my secretary, older sister, and nanny. She can be downright intimidating at times.
“Oh no, you’re not. You have that meeting, or did you already forget?” she asks, eyeing my wardrobe. “I can see you forgot. Go change, meet me in the library in thirty minutes.” Normally, I would be pissed if my staff talked to me this way, but Shannon gets a pass, mostly because she has to put up with me all the time.
I salute her, and she rolls her eyes. I sprint up the stairs, but instead of going to my room, I continue running up to the tower until I reach my secret room. I pull up my scan and read through as fast as I can. M is officially commissioned as the assassin of Logan Hansen. The contract, which takes thirteen of my thirty minutes to find, gives him two weeks to complete the job. It appears M will need to get to the Bahamas first, so that gives me hope that I can stop this from happening. How, I don’t know. I seriously start to question my sanity as I run down to my room and throw on a dress and heels before beelining it downstairs.
By the time I finish my meetings and excuse myself to my room to study, it’s nearly three in the afternoon. I get a text from my dad as I plop down on my bed.
King Daddy: My office-now
Me: coming
I walk begrudgingly down the hall to my father’s office. I knock on the door and am led into the inner chamber.
“Yes, Daddy?” I ask in my sweetest voice.
He looks up at me, just looking for a long minute or two. “Why do you want to accompany your brother?” he finally asks.
I swallow. “Please, Dad! I just need a few days away. Plus, it’s a good time to start shadowing Auggie and Chris to see how it’s done,” I say.
He raises his eyebrows. “Seriously?” he asks.
I grin. “Seriously,” I state.
He sighs. “I know you are up to something, but against my better judgment, I will allow it,” he says. He presses a button on his desk, and Marcus walks in from a side room.
“Marcus, work with Paolo and Shannon. The princess is apparently accompanying her brother to the Bahamas,” he says.
Marcus grimaces. “Yes, Your Majesty,” he mutters and walks out of the room.
“Dad—”
My father holds up a hand. “I don’t want to know. Just please, for the love of god, don’t get in trouble over there. Auggie needs to work on his image. Keep that in mind,” he says in a warning tone.
“Yes, Daddy. Thank you,” I say as I come around his desk and throw my arms around his neck. He pulls me against him and stands so he can lift me off the ground. He kisses my forehead and releases me.
“I love you, Anna,” he whispers as he looks down at me.
“I love you too, Daddy,” I say to him as I smile up at the one person that I know will love me no matter what I do, I hope.
“Off you go then,” he says as he swats me on my butt and ushers me out of his office. Once in a while, he lets down his “king guard” and is just my dad. It’s not often enough these days, but I’ll take it when I can get it.
Chapter 5
After dealing with Shannon and my duties, I meander out to the garden. I find Chris with a bow and arrow. I casually walk up and pick up an arrow as a ground staff member brings me a bow.
Chris ignores me as he pulls the string back taut on the bow before firing the arrow straight at the bull’s-eye. He steps back and motions for me to go.
I position myself and take a deep breath, letting the arrow fly on the exhale. I watch as it hits dead center, pushing Chris’s bow down in the process. I grin and look over at him.
He shakes his head.
“How you best me at everything, I’ll never know,” he mutters.
“Now, now, don’t be sullen. We can’t all be the best,” I say cheerfully.
“And why are ‘we’ in such a good mood?” he asks.
“‘We’ are going to the Bahamas,” I say to him as I set my bow down.
He raises an eyebrow. “Really?” he asks.
I nod. He sits down on a bench and pats the seat next to him. I sit and look up at my big brother, my lion, with his shaggy blondish hair. I can’t help it, I reach out and ruffle it. He slaps my hand away.
“Seriously, Susanna, you need to start acting more…royal,” he grumbles.
“Right, sleeping with the help is a much more royal way to go,” I quip and then immediately regret it.
He gives me a hard look. “She. Is. Not. The. Help,” he grits out while clenching his jaw.
I put up my hands. “OK, whoa, tiger! Guess I hit a nerve,” I say. Then I give him a sheepish look. “Sorry, that was harsh of me.”
He leans back against the bench back and runs a hand through his hair. “Lord help me,” he says looking up at the sky. He stands and holds out a hand. “Walk with me,” he demands.
I accept his offered hand and link my arm through his as we stroll the grounds. He’s silent for a long while, and so am I, until I know where it is he is leading me.
My mother’s grave comes in view around the corner of the rose garden. It was her favorite spot. Dad had the garden built for her. It is fitting that it’s where she’ll spend eternity.
We sit on the small bench across from her grave, neither one of us saying anything. Chris squeezes my hand.
“She’d be so very proud of you,” he says quietly.
“You think?” I ask him, looking up to study his profile.
“I know,” he replies.
I lean my head on his shoulder, and we sit in silence. I want so badly to tell him, to tell anyone what I know, but then my secret will be out in the open. There’s no way Chris would let me go. I’m being foolish and careless, but the excitement of it all, the chance to be me…the magnetism is too strong, especially if I will have to become the proper princess in a few months. I need this one last adventure. One last secret mission. I’ve outsmarted criminals before, from afar, so how much harder could it be. All I have to do is track M, get Logan off the island before he arrives, and voila—assassination attempt foiled, well, at least that’s how it should go, I hope.
Chapter 6
The one problem with having a secret computer is that it’s a secret. I designed it to look like a normal laptop, which is no easy feat. But I can’t just use it anywhere. I have to log in to servers and pass through firewalls and, well, it means the entire time we are in the air, I am without knowing what is happening. I only use my own Wi-Fi, and I’m not about to use it on the plane in front of my brother. We are staying at a property owned by my Uncle Hans, so I know when we arrive that I will be able to rig up some sort of system to get what I need.
“What’s eating you?” Auggie asks as he drinks a second scotch.
“Nothing,” I mutter.
He pokes me in the arm. “Seriously? You’ve been acting weird; I mean weirder than normal,” he adds.
I internally groan.
“I’m just anxious about school ending,” I say to him. It’s not a lie, but it’s also not the reason I’m anxious right now.
“Well, it’ll be fine,” he says. He laughs. “Remember when you were dead set on being a spy?”
I grimace. When I was about eight, I became obsessed with James Bond. This was partly because I was determined that I could find our mother’s missing crown and take down all the bad guys in the world. My brothers made fun of me, saying I could never be a spy and a princess. If only Auggie knew what I was up to.
I close my eyes and pretend to sleep. My mind whirls around everything. I want so badly to share my secret with Auggie. I trust my brothers more than anyone in the world. They would never let anything bad happen to me, only that’s the problem. They would never let anything bad happen to me. I have no rational explanation of why I’m doin
g this on my own. I’d lain awake all last night pondering this. What possesses a princess to become a hacker? What possesses her to find an assassination plot on the dark web and try to stop it? What possesses her not to tell anyone? Stupidity? Bravery? A need to prove herself?
I know I’m no match for M. I can’t take down an assassin, no matter how many guns or arrows I’ve fired. I can hold my own against much larger people thanks to all that martial arts training I had as a kid, but an assassin is a whole other ball of wax.
I must be exhausted, because the next thing I know, Auggie is shaking me awake.
“We’re here,” he says.
I groan and grab my bag as we make our way to customs. One good thing about being a royal is that you don’t wait in those long lines at the airport. You are essentially ushered through as fast as possible. So, it’s only a mere hour later that we are at our uncle’s villa.
I toss my bag on the bed and fall against it as I gaze out at the turquoise water that beckons me. I decide one quick swim in the water won’t derail my plans too badly.
“No,” I tell myself. I need to figure out where he is.
I look around the room, eyeing the closet. It’s a walk-in. I go inside and breathe a sigh of relief when I find an outlet. Only my uncle would have an outlet in the closet. I shake my head and plug in my computer. I log in to my secured Wi-Fi and my server. Once I feel that I’m secured, I log on and start searching for Logan. We are on Nassau and his last known address is Cable Beach. I’m hoping that’s still correct. We aren’t far from there, well, it’s an island so nothing is far.
