by C. J. Miller
The assassin community would know that Demetrius and his wife had been targets and that Demetrius was out for revenge. “That’s great to know. Want to do me a favor and tell me where the Ghost is?”
Rahl looked around. “Don’t let anyone hear you talk about that.”
“He’s not Bloody Mary. He won’t appear if we chant his name too many times. The Ghost openly came at me. He expects backlash. Might even be disappointed if I do nothing in response.”
Rahl rocked back on his heels. “I heard you took a few bullets. Do you want to take a few more?”
“Threats are below you.”
Rahl sniffed. “Not a threat. That’s not how I work. But I was hit a few months back. Stomach. Bullet through and through. I missed a month of work. I’m pissed.”
“The Ghost was responsible.” Educated guess.
Rahl gave one swift nod, and anger lit hot in his eyes. “The Ghost is making the rounds.”
“Making the rounds and doing what?”
“Leaving bodies.”
“Why?” Demetrius asked. Assassins killed for money. What was the Ghost trying to accomplish?
“Power play. Wants to be the only game in town. Work for him or don’t work at all.”
Rahl wasn’t a team player. “What are you planning to do about it?” Demetrius asked.
“Put someone I can trust in power in Valencia. I’ve heard the Ghost works out of this area. Then go on the offensive.”
“Dangerous game.”
Rahl smirked. “High risk, high reward.”
“Do you know who he is?” Demetrius asked.
Rahl shook his head. Demetrius believed him. If he did, he wouldn’t be standing around rubbing shoulders with Valencian royalty. He’d be plotting his attack.
“We have a common enemy,” Demetrius said. “Call on me and I’ll help.” It wouldn’t be the first time he’d worked beside Rahl, and he knew that while the trained killer had loyalty to no one and nothing, he was a good man to have around when guns were needed.
High-pitched shrieks from outside the house had Demetrius racing in the direction of the commotion. He kept an eye out for the assassins at the party. A diversion like a screaming woman was a great time to make a hit.
Worry torpedoed him when he spotted Iliana. She was outside with Maria. They were holding hands and looking out into the garden, terror written on their faces.
Reaching her quickly, Demetrius put his arms around his wife, needing to feel her close and shield her with his body. “What’s wrong?” Before she could answer, he followed her gaze up, up to the second story balcony overlooking the garden.
Spiro was swinging from the terrace with a rope around his neck.
“Cut him down!” Iliana shouted, grabbing Demetrius’s suit jacket.
Spiro was dead. Though it was horrible to see the man swaying in the wind, the smarter play was to leave the scene untouched and allow the police to gather evidence.
Had the Ghost struck again?
“One of the assassins must have done this,” Iliana said, her voice quiet, but Demetrius could hear the hysteria shaking in it.
“Could be.”
If this was a professional hit, the assassin would have covered his—or her—tracks well.
“He won’t stop until he kills us all,” Iliana said.
Demetrius tightened his arm around her. “Not you. I won’t let him harm you.”
* * *
Iliana felt as if a fog had settled over her brain. In the three days following Spiro’s death, speculation ran rampant. Kaliope was a mess, devastated her security had failed her. Maria suspected it was an inside job, someone close to the family who was striking out at each heir.
Spiro had followed his father’s precedent for a burial at sea, and Kaliope was hosting a reception at her home in Abele following the service. According to Maria, Kaliope had been unable to return home since the incident. It was tearing her up. It was destroying all of them.
Iliana went in search of Maria and found her drinking wine in the drawing room, away from the grieving family and friends who’d come to pay their respects.
When Iliana had lost her parents in that disastrous car accident, the funeral and the weeks following it were a blur. She’d taken poor care of herself, eating comfort food and forgetting entirely about her health. She’d gained fifteen pounds in the year after their deaths.
The downward spiral had ended when she had attended a royal event wearing an empire waist dress and someone had asked if she was pregnant. That night she had looked at herself in the mirror and had seen eyes that were deep wells of sadness, and grief etched into her face. That had jolted her out of her unhealthy behavior. With Serena and Danae’s help, she had clawed out of her anguish.
Iliana sat next to Maria. “You holding up okay?”
Maria took a sip of her wine and then swirled it in the glass. “I’m dealing. Spiro could be a real pain in my butt, but he was a good guy. He loved his family, and aside from the squabbling over the past several weeks, he was fun to have around.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
Maria finished her wine and reached for the bottle tucked behind her chair. She poured more into her glass. “I should stay in Valencia and throw my support behind Emmanuel, but I can’t. I’m going to stay with a friend overseas.”
Getting out of the spotlight might keep her alive. “That might be wise,” Iliana said.
“Keep that between us. I don’t want the assassins tracking me. Let them think I’m hanging out in Valencia.”
“I won’t say anything. If you need me, call. I’ll do what I can to help you.”
Maria leaned across and hugged her. “Thank you, Iliana. I was angry when I’d heard my father had another daughter. First, because the timing meant he was still having affairs and second, because I figured you’d be gold digging for anything you could get your hands on. But you’re not what I expected. I’ve been pleasantly surprised.”
She was glad to have had the chance to prove she wasn’t trying to put the screws to anyone. “I didn’t have plans to make a grab for money or power. I was looking for family.”
“You have Demetrius.”
Maria had confided in her. Could Iliana admit to her sister that all was not what it seemed with her husband? “We’re newlyweds. We’re working through some issues.”
“In the bedroom?” Maria asked.
Iliana laughed. “No. That’s the one place where everything is good.”
“My mother told me when I wanted to have my way from my future husband, I should put him in a good mood, and then ask. I assume putting him in a good mood means getting him into bed.”
“I don’t think Demetrius would fall for that.”
“I think you’d be surprised. I’ve seen him making moony eyes at you.”
“Really?” Mostly he looked indifferent. Demetrius internalized everything.
“He’s into you. No doubt.”
“Hard to tell sometimes.”
“That’s macho-guy stuff. Like pretending he’s strong and doesn’t need you when he obviously does.”
Iliana couldn’t see Demetrius needing anyone. “Maybe. He wants to provide for me and keep me safe.” Yet he hadn’t spoken the word love to her.
“Does he have a brother? ’Cause Demetrius is hot and I could get in on that action. It’s old-fashioned, but I like a little chest-thumping, protect-your-woman stuff.”
Iliana laughed and avoided the question about Demetrius’s brother. At the moment, neither of them had the power to free Alexei. But if Emmanuel were named king, would Maria convince Emmanuel to free Alexei as a favor to Iliana? A shift in power would cause upheaval in the region, and freeing one prisoner wouldn’t be out of the question. Perhaps Emmanuel could work fo
r prison reform.
Theodore joined them in the drawing room and closed the doors behind him. “So this is where everyone is hiding out. Mind if I sit with you for a while? I can’t be polite to strangers for another minute.”
“Sit,” Maria said, and produced another wineglass from somewhere. She poured Theodore a glass and handed it to him.
He sniffed it but didn’t sip. “I found interesting documents in my mother’s safe. Old copies of Dad’s will. For years, he left us everything. I’m not buying that at the end he decided that harpy Stella should get it all. They were married for a minute and a half.”
“Anything recent to support that theory?” Maria asked.
Theodore shook his head. “Not in the past five years. But I’m not giving up. That black-hearted shrew killed Nicholas and Spiro. Her days are numbered.”
Iliana heard the deep grief and the sharp anger in his voice. Would Theodore take matters into his own hands and attack Stella? “Let’s not do anything rash.” A warning to keep heads cool.
“Like change the king’s will and pay off people to lie about it?” Maria asked.
Kaliope came to the door. “Maria, could I talk to you for a minute?”
Her usually polished appearance was decidedly rough.
Maria stood. “Excuse me.”
Theodore sat in her vacated chair. “How is she? Maria, I mean.”
She was stressed and afraid, planning to run away to protect herself. “She’s sad. Grieving.”
Theodore snorted. “She hated Spiro. She’s probably drinking toasts to the man who killed him.”
He sounded sure about that, but Iliana didn’t believe him. Maria seemed genuinely upset. “That’s not true. She was just saying that Spiro annoyed her at times, but that she missed him.”
Theodore lifted a brow. “She’s working you. Trying to make you think she’s a nice person who wants what’s best for the family. That’s what this family does. Plays people and manipulates them to take sides. We might not have spent much time with our father, but we learned some things. We learned how to win people over. My siblings are experts at that.”
“Aren’t you, as well?” Iliana asked, trying to keep her voice gentle.
“No.”
“No? You don’t try to work people?”
Theodore sighed. “Perhaps you’ve noticed that I’m not close with my siblings. There’s a good reason for that.”
“As an outsider, I’m hardly in a place to judge your family. I didn’t have brothers or sisters growing up. I don’t know much about the dynamic. My cousins used to fight when we were young, but if anyone so much as looked at either of them funny, the other was right there, ready to defend her sister.” It had made Iliana envious. Even if Serena and Danae had included her in their games, she hadn’t been inside that relationship or as close as the sisters had been.
Theodore snorted. “That is not the relationship we have. My mother dealt with our father’s affairs by ignoring them until she couldn’t take it anymore. We didn’t know you existed. My mother and Kaliope used us as pawns and raised us to hate each other.”
“I’m sorry. No one told me you were involved in your parents’ problems.”
“That’s a nice way to say it,” Theodore said. “But I guess being married to Demetrius, you’re the master of diplomacy.”
Iliana wasn’t sure about that. She wished when it came to her husband she was able to influence him without every disagreement escalating to a fight.
Maria entered the drawing room, still carrying her wineglass, red liquid splashing out of the cup. “Emmanuel is gone.”
Iliana came to her feet. She reached for her phone to call Demetrius. “What do you mean, gone?” She needed every detail. Demetrius was somewhere in the house. Was he aware of this?
“I mean gone. He left the funeral, and no one has seen him since. He disappeared between there and here. His car is missing. He isn’t answering his phone.”
Iliana looked at the grandfather clock on the other side of the room. It had been a couple of hours since the funeral. “Try to stay calm. Maybe he went somewhere to be alone.” Not everyone grieved in public.
“Or he’s been kidnapped,” Maria said.
“Or killed,” Theodore said.
“Let’s not jump to those conclusions,” Iliana said, but a bad feeling settled in the pit of her stomach.
“His security detail is missing, too. No one is answering their phones.”
Demetrius messaged her that he was on his way to the drawing room. He was calm and collected in these situations, and he would know what to do. He had spies everywhere—they would help. She rushed to meet him.
Demetrius caught her on the stairs. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. Emmanuel is missing,” Iliana said.
“I know. Everyone is panicked.”
Everyone except Demetrius.
“What can you do to help?” Iliana asked.
“This is a matter for the police.”
A scream of anguish echoed from the first floor. Demetrius and Iliana took the stairs to find Kaliope on her knees on the ground, sobbing. “Not my boy. My beloved boy. Someone has taken him. We have to find him.”
She looked around the room, and when her eyes landed on Demetrius she rose to her feet. Her eyes were red rimmed. “You. You know every dirty deed that goes down in this part of the world. Tell me where my son is.”
Demetrius inclined his head. “I do not know.”
Demetrius’s mouth quirked to the left. It was so slight and if she didn’t know him so well, she would have missed it. He knew something. He might not know where Emmanuel was, but he wasn’t clueless. Maybe he had spoken to someone and they had confided in him or perhaps he had heard rumors.
“I don’t believe you. My son could be anywhere, dying, begging for his life, and you’re standing here calm and unconcerned. Your wife is part of this family, and her brother is missing. Do something!” She was shrieking, and the entire room was looking in their direction.
“I will do what I can to keep your son safe.”
Maria rushed to her mother and put her arms around her. Maria whispered in her mother’s ear, and the two women walked away.
Iliana whirled on Demetrius. “Can you help? What do you know?”
Demetrius regarded her and she knew he was checking his words. Further evidence, at least in her mind, that he wasn’t clueless about Emmanuel’s disappearance. He took her hand. “We should go. I will help Emmanuel.”
He led her outside.
“Tell me. Now,” she said.
Demetrius glanced back at the house. Two of his servicemen had followed him outside, but they were otherwise alone. “I think Kaliope’s reaction is curious.”
“She was acting like a grieving, terrified mother,” Iliana said.
“She didn’t behave that way when Maria was poisoned,” Demetrius said.
“She was upset.”
“She was upset. But just now, she was hysterical.”
Maybe Kaliope favored her son over her daughter, or perhaps she had known that Maria was alive and under the care of doctors. “She doesn’t know where Emmanuel is or how he is.”
“Perhaps her fear is genuine. It’s too soon to jump to the conclusion that Emmanuel will meet the same fate as Nicholas and Spiro.”
Iliana didn’t understand how he could be unruffled, but the entire situation was deeply upsetting for her. She folded herself into Demetrius’s arms.
A sob escaped her, and he rubbed her back consolingly. “It’s okay, Iliana.”
She looked up at him. “How can you know that?”
He took her face in his hands. “Listen to me. It will be fine. I promise you that everything will be fine.”
Chapter
12
A few hours later, Emmanuel’s home, his office and his favorite hangouts had been searched. His security team was still missing. His car’s GPS tracker had been found in a trash can in a shady neighborhood.
The family was devastated.
Demetrius inserted himself into matters everywhere in the Mediterranean. He knew people, assassins apparently, among others. When Iliana asked him about Emmanuel, he repeated the line that everything would be okay, yet as the hours ticked past with no sign of Emmanuel, Iliana didn’t know what to believe.
She wanted to have faith in Emmanuel’s safe return, but it would be so much easier with proof that her half brother was alive. She walked into her husband’s office. He looked up as she entered.
“You look upset,” he said.
“You keep saying that Emmanuel will be fine. If that is true, I want you to find him.”
Demetrius blinked at her. “You want me to find Emmanuel?”
She had asked him a dozen times about Emmanuel. Why was he acting so dense? “What if I were missing? Wouldn’t you try to find me?”
“I would find you if you were missing, but no one would be stupid enough to take my wife.”
She sighed. She wasn’t in the mood for a macho act. She needed reassurance. “This is important to me. Nicholas is dead. Spiro is dead. Someone tried to kill Maria. Emmanuel is missing. If the Ghost has instructions to pick us off one by one, who do you think is his next target?”
“I’ll keep you safe.”
She tried another angle. “Have you found the Ghost? Any leads? Do your spies know anything?”
Given the circumstances, she didn’t understand how he could be so composed. “I have not found him, but he’s working hard to piss off some well-known assassins. I’m not the only one gunning for him. If he’s lucky, someone else will kill him. If I get to him first, I might not let death be easy.”
“You have leads?”
“Yes.”
“Are you planning to share them with me?” She expected him to remain silent and she contemplated how to react. They could fight. Again. Or she could walk away and make it clear shutting her out wasn’t acceptable.
