by Diana Ames
“Damian, whatever you’re doing tonight, it had damn well better be worth this torture,” Anton muttered, leaving the bedroom.
CHAPTER 5
Damian cursed and slammed his fist into the steering wheel, causing the horn to sound off in the middle of the silent road. He jumped at the shrill noise and struggled to get himself under control.
He was pissed that Anton had shown up at his apartment so early. Damian had hoped to be at his destination and have good news before he talked to Sandra. He hadn’t wanted to get her hopes up, or his own for that matter, but it now looked like he’d just broken her heart. He only prayed he could make it up to her when he got home.
Damian had spent most of the previous night brooding and watching Mellissandra. She hadn’t been aware that he was awake when she would climb out of bed to check on the twins or when she would randomly sit up and strain her ears for nonexistent sounds. When the twins had finally cried out for a diaper change and feeding, Mellissandra had been so tired that she looked like she was moving on sheer willpower. He didn’t know how she could manage to get up in the morning, shower, make both of them breakfast, and clean the mess all before the twins were out of bed for the day. What he did know was that he couldn’t allow this to continue.
He missed her. He missed making love to her when he wanted, where he wanted, and how he wanted. He missed holding her in his arms all night. Damian had known when they became parents, they would trade a lot of those things for other joys, and he didn’t mind the trade-off. His children were worth more than being able to make love to his wife in the middle of the day in the living room. Those things wouldn’t be gone forever. The twins would eventually grow up and have lives of their own, leaving behind their parents.
That was the cause of most of his worries. Mellissandra was so focused on the babies that she was losing herself to motherhood. He understood and shared her fears, but he knew what happened to mothers who centered their entire lives on their children. They would end up devastated when those children tried to break free and assert their independence. Many girls who were trying to escape a controlling parent would apply at his club.
He also worried for his children. He’d seen what growing up with only each other to rely on had done to Anton and Gilly. Damian didn’t want his children growing up and believing they were better than other people simply because they had royal blood running through their veins. He wanted them to have playmates and learn how to resolve conflict between friends, how to share, and how to be a friend. He wanted them to be normal children.
Damian had considered asking Mellissandra’s family to move into the castle to give her companionship and to have other children around the twins. He knew Mellissandra’s youngest siblings were still young enough to be playmates once the twins were old enough to actually play. But the hostility her father was holding on to made that idea more stress than solution.
Earlier this morning, the sun had been peeking through the curtains when it finally came to him. He’d thought of a way to get Mellissandra involved in something other than mothering the twins and give her companionship and help with the babies. If he could just get Wally and Ryan to agree to give up the whorehouse and move to the castle, he knew everything else would fall into place.
***
Alondra sat on the porch of the boarding house, watching the sunset. She hated losing, and right now, she felt like she’d lost in a big way. Not only had she not managed to get inside the prison or even lay a foundation to get there, she’d alerted the guards.
Alondra understood the need for security. From what she had learned, this prison housed only the worst criminals in the country. She wasn’t aware of another prison on the island, and she also wasn’t completely sure how the Colania penal system operated.
“Young lady,” the woman snapped, coming up beside Alondra on the porch. This woman had been hounding her since renting the room. “I want to know exactly why you’re here. You’re staying in my house, and I have a right to know if I’m safe in my own bed.”
“What next?” Alondra muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes. “I’m a reporter for a paper in New York. I’m doing a series of articles on prisons and crime rates in foreign countries and comparing them to our own system,” Alondra said, sticking to the story she’d told the guard.
“A nosy, no-good reporter,” the woman spit out. “I should have known. We’re not exactly a stop on the tourist map.”
Alondra was offended by the snap judgment, but she held her tongue. She didn’t want to get thrown out on her ass at dusk.
“I don’t believe for one minute that you’re here for a story on prisons,” she sneered at Alondra. “If you were, you would have started at the castle. All our prisoners are processed through castle security. I don’t really care about any of that. I knew I was right not to trust you.” She looked Alondra up and down. “You can stay tonight because I wouldn’t throw a dog out in the street, but I want you gone by noon tomorrow. I’ll be sure to tell the other renters who you are, so if I were you, I’d plan on leaving this village.”
Alondra watched the woman spin away and stomp inside the house. She refused to show any weakness, but inside, she wanted to cry. This woman was going to make it impossible to get another room in this village, not that sticking around would have done much good as far as getting into the prison. But, she didn’t even have any transportation to get to another village.
Sighing, Alondra rose to her feet and headed for her room—her room for the night anyway. She was going to get some sleep. She had a feeling it might be the last night of good sleep she would get for a while.
***
Mellissandra quietly entered her apartment. She didn’t want Anton to see her right now. She knew she looked terrible. Mellissandra had never been a pretty crier. Her nose would swell and end up matching her hair, and her eyes always became bloodshot. But luck wasn’t on her side, and Anton had been awaiting her return.
“What happened? Where did you go? Why do you look like you’ve been punched in the face repeatedly?” he demanded.
“I think Damian is leaving me,” Mellissandra wailed.
***
Anton’s eyes widened as the usually strong and capable woman broke down in front of him. He pulled her into his arms and felt her tears soak his shirt. He patted her back and silently cursed his brother.
“Damian is not leaving you,” Anton murmured into her hair. “He loves you entirely too much to ever consider leaving you. Besides, he’s not stupid. He knows you’d be snapped up in a flash, and he’d never get another chance,” Anton said.
The conversation he’d had with Damian earlier in the day came rushing back to him. Damian had said that I would be the best person to hand his family over to. Anton shook his head, knowing it was insane to think even for a moment that Damian would give up Mellissandra.
“What am I going to do, Anton?” Mellissandra asked miserably.
“Let’s fix you a drink, and we’ll talk about it,” Anton said, leading her into the living room.
“I’m nursing, Anton,” Mellissandra said wryly. “No alcohol for me.”
“Well then, we’ll fix me a drink, and you can tell me why you think my idiot brother is going to leave you.” Anton sighed. “Then, I’ll tell you why you’re jumping to conclusions and letting your crazy after-pregnancy hormones rule your thinking.”
“You’re a good man, Anton,” Mellissandra said, giggling. “The woman who snaps you up had better be willing to share you because I’m not giving up your friendship for anything.”
Anton’s heart leaped to his throat at her words, but the joy turned to bile as the word friendship registered. A bitter smile touched his lips.
“I don’t think you have to worry about that too much, Mel,” he said. “No one wants a man as messed-up as I am, prince or not.”
***
Damian sat at the tiny kitchen table with his two old friends as he explained what he wanted from them. His surprise visit
and ragged appearance had convinced Wally and Ryan to leave the main floor of the Borderline Bordello to other staff and follow him over to the house.
“She’s running herself into the ground, and she doesn’t trust anyone but me or Anton to be alone with the babies,” he told them.
“She’s a new mother, Damian,” Wally said, refilling his coffee mug. “It’s to be expected that she doesn’t trust anyone with her babies. I’d be surprised and disappointed if she were just willing to hand her kids over to a nanny.”
“It’s more than that though, Wally,” Damian said. “The babies are almost five months old, and she hasn’t relaxed at all. She’s up all night, listening for them, and she jumps in and out of bed to check on them. Frankly, I don’t know how she’s surviving during the day.”
“What do you want from us, Damian?” Ryan asked him. “I don’t think you drove over two hours just to vent or get advice.”
“You’re right,” Damian told the big man before giving a wry smile. “Mellissandra loves both of you so much, and more than that, she trusts you. I trust you.” Damian took a deep breath, and his eyes darted between the couple sitting across the table from him. “I want you both to move into the castle with us.”
Wally and Ryan gaped at him, stunned. They’d been running the Borderline Bordello for Damian for years. It was their home.
“Damian—” Ryan began hesitantly.
“Hear me out,” Damian cut in. “I would love for Wally to be our nanny and pseudo-grandma. In addition, I want to get Sandra involved in starting up a daycare program and eventually a school for the castle servants. You’ve run this place beautifully over the years, Wally. It would just be a matter of applying your managerial skills to a different business,” Damian told her.
“Damian, you don’t want an old whore helping to raise your children,” Wally said incredulously. “I doubt your servants would want their children in a daycare managed by one either.”
“Wally, I have been one of the main proponents of legalizing prostitution and trying to get rights for those in the sex industry. It’d be slightly hypocritical of me to look down on you for what I’ve pushed myself,” Damian told her. He’d known this would be one of their main arguments against coming back with him. “It’s also just the first part of what I want from you.” Damian got ready for the coup de grâce, the clincher that he was sure would convince them to return with him. “I want you both—although primarily Ryan for right now—to take over management of The Dungeon.”
“What about this place, Damian?” Ryan asked. “We’ve worked damn hard to get it in order and keep it running. It’s our home.”
“I have no intention of taking that away from you, Ryan,” Damian said. “You can choose a manager and even take time to travel back however often you feel necessary to make sure things are running smoothly. If you’re not happy with us in the castle, I wouldn’t force you to stay. This place might belong to me on paper, but I know that you two own it, heart and soul.”
“When do we have to answer you?” Wally asked seriously.
“I’d like to get moving in the morning,” Damian answered. “At the very least, Wally, I’d like for you to come with me right away. I understand that Ryan might want to stay to find a manager, and I can send a car back for him.” He sighed. “To be honest, I didn’t tell Sandra where I was going or even that I was leaving. She radioed me, and it was quite the blowout. I need to get back to her as soon as I can.”
“You idiot,” Wally said, rising to smack Damian on the side of his head. “The woman just had two babies, and you’re upsetting her by running off without telling her. She probably thinks you’re sick of her and out catting around.”
“She did ask me if I was leaving her,” Damian said, wincing slightly and rubbing the now tender spot on his head. “But that’s just another reason I need you both so badly. I need someone I can trust not only with Sandra and the babies, but with my club as well.” Damian’s voice was desperate.
“I have to start stepping up and helping Anton bring this country up to date. We’re not a poor country, but our roads and our technology aren’t much better than that of a third-world, poverty-stricken country.
“If Sandra needs me right now or if something happens to one of the babies, security has to try to get me on the radio in the car. If I’m not in the car or if I’m too far away, they either have to send someone out to look for me or wait until I get back. This has to change. We need decent roads, maps, satellite towers, phones—”
“Go get some sleep, Damian,” Wally cut him off. “We’ll let you know our decision in the morning.”
Damian nodded and knew he’d done everything he could to convince them of just how much he needed them. As he mounted the stairs to find a bed to collapse into, he said a quick prayer that his efforts here had been enough.
***
Gilly sat in the therapy room, handcuffed to the chair. It amused her that the doctors were afraid of her, but it was uncomfortable to only be able to shift a few inches in her seat.
“So, tell me, Gillian,” the therapist for this session said, “how do you feel about ending two lives?”
Gilly didn’t smile, and she took several minutes to respond. She’d been playing this game for a year, and she’d finally learned the rules. She knew those two lives had been worth less than nothing in the grand scheme of things. They had merely been stumbling blocks on her path to being with Anton. But she also knew if she wanted to get out of here, she would have to play the game.
“I feel terrible,” Gilly finally said. “At the time, I don’t think I was even aware of exactly what I was doing.” Internally, Gilly rolled her eyes. “I mean, I don’t even know if either of those people had any family, someone who depended on them. I’m just now realizing what I’ve really done.”
“So, you’re seeing now that it was wrong to kill two people?” the therapist questioned, flipping back through a notebook. “A few months ago, you said it didn’t matter that they were dead. You said that their deaths were no more significant than stepping on a bug. What happened to those feelings?”
“I don’t know if it’s been the therapy or the drugs that I’m on,” Gilly said, trying to look sincere, “but I can see just how unclear and irrational my thoughts and behaviors have been. I’m a doctor—well, I was a doctor. I’m supposed to save lives, not end them.”
Gilly sat back in the chair and fought to keep the smug expression from her face. When the therapist had gone silent after her last statement, Gilly knew she had him. He was one of those people who believed all lives were equal, but Gilly knew better. Some lives, some people, were worth much more than all others combined, and Gilly was going to do whatever it took to get back to the one who was worth everything to her.
CHAPTER 6
Alondra woke up in time to see the sun rise through the curtains on the window. Sighing, she rose and gathered what she would need for a shower. She could only imagine when she would get another one.
Alondra took her time under the warm water, lathering her body twice and washing her hair three times. When she was finally finished, she heard the shouts coming from the other side of the locked door.
“This is the bathroom for the entire floor!” a voice yelled.
“Hurry up,” another voice called out. “We’ve been waiting for over forty minutes.”
Alondra threw a robe on, not bothering to dry completely or dress. The people yelling sounded angry, and she wasn’t in the mood to deal with pissed off natives this morning. Gathering her things, she sauntered out of the bathroom door.
“It’s all yours,” she told them with a wink. She moved confidently down the hall to her room, only to find the Wicked Witch of the West—aka her landlady—waiting for her.
“Breakfast will be ready in ten minutes. I expect you to be downstairs with your belongings in that time. After you eat, you go,” she told Alondra before stomping away.
In true New York fashion, Alondra wanted to shout a
fter her that she could shove her breakfast where the sun didn’t shine, but her common sense prevailed. She didn’t know if this village had a restaurant—if any of the villages had restaurants for that matter—so she wasn’t going to turn down a hot meal.
She’d packed the night before, making sure to take care with her laptop and satellite phone. Everything else could most likely be replaced with the money she kept in various places on her body—some in a shoe, some in her bra, and very little in her pockets—but somehow, she doubted the local general store could replace her expensive electronics.
Downstairs, Alondra found a breakfast of homemade waffles, fried potatoes, and bacon already served up and waiting for her. There was only one plate on the table, and she was the only person in the kitchen. Without waiting for an invitation, Alondra sat down and began eating. Just as she was helping herself to a second cup of coffee, the landlady came into the kitchen.
“What do I owe you for the room last night and the two meals?” Alondra asked brusquely, making no comment on the fact that she was being thrown out.
“You look a lot better without all those spikes in your hair and all the gunk on your face,” the woman said with a snort.
“Since I don’t know when I’m going to be able to shower properly next, I figured I was better off without the gel and my usual makeup,” Alondra snapped back. “How much do I owe you?”
“What do you really want with our prison?” the woman asked. “Right now, I think you’re nothing but a liar and a fraud.”
Alondra sighed and rubbed her temples. She didn’t understand this woman. Just last night, she was throwing her out on the street, and today, she wanted to chat.
“I don’t see what business it is of yours,” Alondra said, trying to rein in her temper. “How much do I owe you?”
“It’s my business because that prison is located in my village. It’s my business because you rented a room in my house. It’s my business because you’re a lying foreigner who is probably only here to stir up trouble,” the woman spit at her. “We’re just a little country. We bother nobody, and nobody bothers us. We like it that way just fine,” she said.
