“Of course, Your Majesty,” Corrado said. “We’ll make sure this is done.”
“Nate, I’ll need you, too. I’m sorry.”
“You don’t need to apologize to me for that spectacle. Fucking morons.”
Alex clamped a hand on Nate’s shoulder. “Thanks, Nate.”
Nate clamped a hand back. “Think nothing of it. You know I’m behind you, but now I’m questioning leaking this to the press. Hegarty may have had someone on standby ready to destroy any files or links we could have made, which we could have avoided if we’d had more time.”
“Perhaps, it was a rash decision. However, I have no doubt it was the right one.”
“Hegarty could just be the tip of the iceberg. I’m going to do some digging, see if I can get the other ministers to talk. Someone must have known about his inclinations.” Nate strode away down the hall.
Alex needed Rebecca. He needed her alone, just the two of them, just for a minute. Just one fucking minute so the world could make sense again.
How in hell was he supposed to tell her this news?
Alex turned back to his chiefs of staff. “Start working on drafts of the bills – both versions – as much as you can before the meeting starts.”
Corrado gave him a shrewd look. “You believe they’ll push back on vetoing the original laws, Your Majesty?”
“I believe they’ll do anything they can to save face. However, they also know we need this bill completed and signed. When they’re working on a timer, they always try to negotiate other, ridiculous provisions into everything.
“Perhaps, in the past, my father was willing to go to extra lengths to accommodate them.
“Today, however, I am in no mood. And they’ll soon discover that, if they haven’t already.”
Alex strode down the hall and made his way towards the Gara Hotel. He had to see Rebecca.
Chapter Twelve
Edward’s tall frame stood at loose attention, his keen eyes raking over everything around him, while still keeping a watch on Zinnia as she made her way through customs at the airport. She was dressed demurely in long, black pants, black ankle boots, and a cream-colored silk shirt. Her honey blond hair was twisted up and she wore no jewelry.
She was classy, but clearly trying to blend in and go unnoticed.
If she had an accomplice, she wasn’t obvious about it. An initial check on her fellow passengers hadn’t revealed anything, either, though that didn’t mean anything.
Her half-brother, Lafayette, had managed to ingratiate himself into the Royal Protection Service as a sort of contractor, and all because his background checks had been clean.
His mind and his intentions, however, had been a different matter entirely.
“Miss Veiga?” Edward said as she passed him.
Zinnia jerked, her carry-on fell to the floor and she drew her purse close to her chest. “Yes?” she asked hesitantly.
“My name is Edward. I’m with the Royal Protection Service. Prince Marcello told you to expect me?”
She relaxed slightly. “Yes. Yes, of course he did. He didn’t give me a name, however. Thank you for meeting me.”
Edward watched her fiddle with the clasp on her purse. Was she hiding something in there, or was she just nervous? His instincts told him the latter, but caution had him preparing for the worst. “There are other agents following you, as well,” he gestured to a couple of them nearby, “and we’ll continue to follow you during your time in Valleria.”
“I understand. I won’t cause trouble.” She picked up her fallen carry-on.
Edward quirked an eyebrow. “As you say, Miss Veiga. Right this way.” He gestured for her to walk in front of him, another agent leading her out of Valentia’s airport.
“We’re going to the cemetery first, correct?”
“Yes, Miss Veiga.”
“Please, call me Zinnia. I, um, don’t much care for my last name.”
“I’m sorry, but I’ll need to address you formally unless Prince Marcello deems otherwise.”
She bit her lip, but nodded.
Nearly thirty minutes later, they pulled through the gates of a small cemetery. Though Lafayette was technically royalty – extremely distant royalty – he was not granted burial privileges in the royal cemetery. He was instead buried here, on the outskirts of town, in a cemetery known for criminals and thieves, and traitors to the crown.
When they pulled up near his grave and stepped out, Zinnia turned to him.
“I know you need to follow me and everything, and that’s fine,” she added hastily. “But would you mind giving me a little distance? I…I need to say something to him, and I don’t want to be overheard. Please?”
Her eyes were shadowed in pain; as he’d brutally lost both of his parents, he knew some shadows lingered. He wondered if her pain was for Lafayette or for something – or someone – else. “As you wish, Miss Veiga.” She winced at the sound of her name. “We’ll maintain our presence, but you’ll have some privacy.” He signaled to the other men nearby, who fell slightly back.
“Thank you,” she said, her voice trembling. She turned and took a deep breath, then muttered something to herself. She rolled her shoulders back, and took a tentative step forward, then another. Her steps grew more confident as she reached the grave.
She stared down at the small headstone, which had been overtaken by weeds. She didn’t reach down and clean it up, didn’t pull weeds aside as a loved one would have done, as Edward would have done for the gravestones of his parents or family. She stared down, her posture stiff yet one in control.
Edward saw her lips move, though her mouth was thin in anger. She stomped on the grave once, twice, then pointed at the headstone and shook her head.
She spoke a little more, then spit – actually spit – on his grave and walked away towards Edward.
“I’m ready to go to the prison now.”
Edward gave her an assessing look. “You understand your conversation with Gerald will be overheard?”
“I –” She swallowed hard. “Yes. Yes, I figured as much.”
Edward waited a beat, then nodded. “All right. Let’s head out.”
It took an hour to get to the prison from the far-flung cemetery, and to make their way through security. Zinnia didn’t ask Edward any questions, didn’t make one bit of noise along the way. She simply stared out of the car window, lost in her own thoughts.
It was a maximum security prison. Gerald would ordinarily only see visitors from behind a partition. Only Marcello’s approval allowed Zinnia access to him, in person, in the same room, without a barrier.
Edward watched Zinnia sitting quietly in a bolted chair. Her only movement was toying with the cuff of her sleeve.
Gerald entered a few minutes later, bound in chains, and Zinnia straightened in her chair as he shuffled into the room. By Edward’s guess, Gerald had lost more hair since he’d entered prison, his pallor pale. His glasses were standard prison issue, thick and black, and function over form.
The guards ushered him into a chair and he rested his chained wrists on the desk, interlocking his fingers when he did.
Gerald gave her a look that would have had most women squirming in their chair, but Zinnia held herself together.
Gerald’s voice was rough and hoarse. “What do you want?”
She took a deep breath. “I wanted to see you, one last time.”
“Well, I didn’t want to see you. You ever think of that?”
“Yes,” she said quietly. “I did. But I don’t care what you think anymore.”
Gerald narrowed his piggy little eyes at her. “Oh really? So, you don’t care if I call you a whore?” Zinnia sucked in a breath. “You don’t care if I tell everyone in this room about–”
“Shut your goddamned mouth!” she spat out, as if she’d been waiting years to say it. “Do you even recognize the terrible things you’ve done?”
“I didn’t do anything to anyone who didn’t deserve it.” He leaned closer
. “And they’ll get more of what they deserve soon.” Then Gerald smirked at Edward and the other agents in the room.
Edward kept his face even, but went on alert. He knew Gerald couldn’t mastermind an attack himself behind prison walls, but he could have an accomplice beyond the walls.
Edward and Marcello had both thought that accomplice might be Zinnia.
Now, after seeing her today, Edward wasn’t so sure she was involved.
“Don’t you ever learn your lesson?” Zinnia hissed. “No. They should have killed you when they had the chance. Then you’d be dead like your asshole son right now.”
Gerald face twisted into a snarl. “Don’t you talk about my son like that. He was the only good child I had. You were useless. A woman’s not good for anything except being a whore.”
Zinnia let out a shuddering breath, laced with anger and disgust. “Jesus. It’s no wonder my mother killed herself.”
Edward froze. Reports had said the late Mrs. Veiga had died of a heart attack. He knew Marcello and the royal family were under the same impression. Clearly, her suicide was covered up, but why?
“That bitch was useless.”
“She was not useless,” Zinnia said vehemently. “You were. You’re a tyrant. I wanted to see if prison would have changed you, but it’s made you worse.”
“Is that why you came here? Seeking forgiveness for being a whore?” he asked in a mocking tone. “Wanted to call me names to feel better about yourself?”
She swallowed hard, then rolled her shoulders back. “I was raped. That doesn’t make me a whore.”
The air filled with tension from every agent in the room, including Edward. Jesus. None of the royal family knew about that, he was sure of it.
Gerald scoffed. “That’s what you think. You wanted it. You women always want it.”
Zinnia shook her head. “I realize now it was pointless to come.” She stood, her height towering over him. “I think I’m going to burn you.”
“What?” he clipped.
“When you finally die. I’m going to have you cremated. I didn’t do that with your sick, twisted son – him, I had buried, for a very specific purpose – but you. Yes, I think cremation is the way to go. You certainly won’t be buried by that son-of-an-asshole.”
Gerald’s lips twisted into a snarl. “That’s my son.”
She gave him a rueful smile. “Like I said. Son. Of. An. Asshole.”
“Why you little–” He lunged from his seat and wrapped his hands around her throat.
Her choking sounds filled the room. The agents pulled Gerald away from Zinnia, while Edward pulled her away from Gerald.
“You’ll get what’s coming to you, you little bitch,” Gerald spat. “They’ll all get what’s coming to them. And just in time for the wedding.” Gerald cackled while the guards yanked him out of the room and away.
Zinnia was leaning against Edward for support, her breath in short, sharp gasps.
“Are you all right?”
She nodded. “I’ll be fine,” she rasped. She leaned away to stand on her own and took a few long, slow breaths. “Right,” she said softly. “You can take me back to the airport now. Unless, could I just take a train back? Would that be okay?”
Edward trusted his gut. Right now, his gut was telling him to keep her in Valleria a little longer. “We’ll need to take you to the hospital, Miss,” he said, deliberately leaving out her last name. “Standard procedure.”
Her brows furrowed but she nodded.
Security was tightest at Gabriel’s hospital, so he took her there. That way, if she was involved in the threat, they’d be covered. And, if she wasn’t, then the family could speak with her as well.
Edward hoped it wasn’t a mistake.
Chapter Thirteen
Rebecca and the girls’d had a lovely morning. She couldn’t say it had been completely relaxing – there was too much to worry about for that – but she’d enjoyed spending time with Cat, Grace, Charlie, and Sarah, and several of Alex’s aunts and cousins.
What she hadn’t enjoyed, was the presence of some of the extended family, including Helen and Henrietta. They’d both invited themselves to the bridal spa day, and Rebecca had been forced to put up with them.
Fortunately, the day was almost over, and they were now relaxing in Rebecca’s suite at the Gara Hotel with some tea and refreshments, most of them still in their spa robes. The suite itself was amazing; a two-story penthouse, complete with several guest rooms, a small kitchen, and even a baby grand piano in the lounge room where they were all sitting.
Unfortunately, however, after five hours of disdainful, passive-aggressive comments, Rebecca was ready to throw his family out. Or worse.
Helen shook her head then stared at Rebecca. “Tsk. Tsk. The day before the wedding, and the bride-to-be is lounging around while her fiancé works his fingers to the bone.”
Cat, who had spent the entire day listening to similar insults, was clearly fed up. She sprang from her chair and faced Helen. “That is a terrible and completely untrue statement. Really, Grandmother, what has gotten into you?”
Rebecca brought her teacup to her lips. Though the soothing ginger tea settled her, it was only a very little; her shaking hand rattled the teacup as she set it in its saucer.
She knew if Alex were here, he would stand up and likely throw his grandmother out of the room – as respectfully as he could, of course.
Since he wasn’t, she would need to handle it on her own.
Rebecca put a hand on Cat’s arm. “It’s all right, Cat.”
“It most definitely is not.”
“Sit down. Please?”
Cat gave her a searching look, then sat down and tightly crossed her arms and legs, the anger still fuming from her. Grace gave her arm a comforting squeeze.
Rebecca stood up, terrified but holding steady. She faced Helen, and ignored the room full of people around them.
“I know that some of you may not agree with Alex’s choice of bride – that being me. In response, I’ll only say that, while I respect your place in this family, I couldn’t care less what you think about me.”
A few gasps, and a lot of stifled smiles circled in the room.
“Alex made his choice over a year ago. Actually, well over a year ago, as he’d been in love with me for quite some time before we ever began seeing each other.”
Surprise flitted across faces; she’d forgotten how few people knew about his love for her before he’d declared it.
“Not only that, but Gabriel and Genevieve,” she said with a pointed look at Helen, who sniffed and turned away, “have approved of me, and of the marriage.
“I will one day be your queen.” She’d never said the word before; it made her responsibilities all the more real, as if they hadn’t been real enough before. “You may not like me, but you will respect me and the choice Alex made in choosing me. Or you’ll never see us, or the palace, ever again.”
Helen sneered. “Resorting to threats? I am Alexander’s grandmother. I will always be welcome here.”
Rebecca remained calm and steady. “That wasn’t a threat; it was a promise. Grandmother or no, there are few in the family who will allow any disrespect towards me.”
Cat stood up again. “I certainly won’t.”
Grace stood. “Neither will I.”
Sarah and Charlie, along with many of Gabriel’s family, and Genevieve’s sister, Diana, also stood. Only Helen and Henrietta remained sitting.
Helen rose. “We’ll just see what my daughter has to say about that. Come, Henrietta.” They gave Rebecca a vicious glare on their way out of the room.
After they’d gone, everyone relaxed and sat down again.
“I shouldn’t have said something to them in front of everyone.”
“It was for the best. They deserved it,” Cat said.
“Who deserved what?”
All of the ladies turned at the sound of Alex’s voice. “I just saw Grandmother and Henrietta storming dow
n the hall,” he said. “Am I to assume they made some inappropriate statements?”
“To say the least.”
“Darling, may I speak with you a moment?”
“Of course.” He was exhausted. Others probably wouldn’t notice it, but no one knew him like she did. He was tired and sad, and she also sensed anger. “Something’s happened. What’s wrong?” she asked when they were finally alone in her bedroom.
“There was a problem at the Council meeting.”
“What?”
“They’re saying we can’t get married.”
“What?” she gasped. She took a few unconscious steps back, eventually hitting the edge of the bed. “How? What do you mean?”
Alex rubbed his hands down her arms in comfort. “Some ancient law someone unearthed. Didn’t you hear about the Council meeting? We leaked some information to the press.”
Her head was in a daze. “No. No, I didn’t. I’ve been so busy.” Oh, God. “What does the law say?”
Alex told her what had happened, and what they planned to do to correct it.
“Oh, Alex. It’s the day before the wedding.”
“I know, but there’s nothing for it. It doesn’t matter I have a million things to do before the ceremony. I’ve got to be there and make sure the Council actually signs the damn thing.”
A frantic knock came at the door and Alex rushed to answer it.
“Is it true?” Cat asked, her phone clutched in her hand, others standing behind her. “Did the Council tell you that you both can’t get married?”
Alex nodded.
“They can’t do that!” Cat cried.
“They can and they have.” Alex went on to explain the situation, and the reason for the upcoming Council meeting. “They’ll fix this, by God, or I’m firing the lot of them.”
“The public’s already on your side,” Sarah chimed in. “Fairy tale wedding and all that. Vallerians are also concerned that if the wedding doesn’t go through, their bank holiday’s going to be cancelled.”
“That’ll really get the public going,” Charlie said. “No one wants to lose a free day off.”
“Exactly,” Alex agreed. “The Council looks rather foolish right now. Believe me, by the time I’m done spinning the press, they’ll make us look good, and the Council look even worse.”
Royally Ever After (Royals of Valleria #7) Page 14
