Crown of Solana

by Susan Sheehey

  The hammer bangs the final nail into the monarchy’s coffin.

  André moved to the desk and gripped the edge. His body shook with rage until it finally erupted. With a crippling roar, he swiped everything off the desk; papers, pens, and folders scattering everywhere. He grabbed another photo from the bookshelf and chucked it across the room. Alanna flinched as the glass shattered against the wall.

  Her arms and heart were too heavy to throw things, though the actions mirrored the devastation in her soul.

  Flynn moved to the other side behind Alanna, his expression as grave as hers. She gripped his hands, now encircling her waist. Slowly, the feeling came back in her fingers, and his warmth stopped the chills down her spine. But every ounce of hope within her disintegrated, pooling at her feet.

  From across the room, André’s chest heaved. “We can’t stop this madness without their help, but they won’t help unless we give them everything.”

  Alanna took another deep breath and forced her head up. I can’t help anyone from inside a closet. With a final squeeze on Flynn’s hand, she walked to the desk, carefully stepping over the shattered frames and ripped papers. She leaned against the desk, her body facing the debris-cluttered room. “What would Father do?” she asked softly.

  “I ask myself that a thousand times a day,” her brother replied, his tone broken.

  Focus on next steps. Get every brain needed in this room. “We need to schedule an emergency meeting with the remaining province leaders.”

  André stared at her, defeat splattered across his features. This was where he would retreat. This was when he would tuck his tail and run. Just like every other disaster in their lives. But she couldn’t let him. She needed him here.

  He glanced out the window. The sun rose higher over their crumbling country. “We need a miracle.”

  Another knock sounded, one she barely heard. Or perhaps her heart pounding in her ears drowned out everything else. She couldn’t bear any more bad news. André turned away from the doors, focusing on the window at the gardens below.

  Alanna swallowed the lump in her throat. “Pase.”

  The figure that entered stopped her heart, and she gasped. Flynn swore under his breath.

  ANDRÉ’S STOMACH FLIPPED.

  Gemma.

  Bruised, bandaged, and invincible. Standing there in a button-down cerulean shirt, loose jeans, and ratty brown boots, she still sported a sling with a splint on her left fingers and a dressing over her eyebrow. The bitter rainbow of colors across her face had faded slightly since the last time he saw her.

  Stefano stood behind Gemma in a black t-shirt and dark pants, much like what he wore during the invasion to get their country back. He looked a decade older, with hollow cheeks and more gray peppered in his hairline. Thinner.

  “Gemma, dios mio.” Alanna instantly teared up, with a hitch in her voice. She slowly approached her and carefully wrapped her in a hug. “Lo siento, Gemma.” Tears fell from her eyes. “When they told me of your injuries, I couldn’t picture…Virgen María. Thank God you’re all right.”

  Gemma never once took her gaze off André. But he couldn’t move. His feet were fused to the carpet, afraid if he blinked, she’d disappear. She had pushed him away in the hospital, and he couldn’t bear being ripped from her again. There was nothing left of him to salvage.

  Her eyes were soft, her lips parted in some emotion he couldn’t identify. Are you afraid? Are you disgusted? Are you pissed? What are you thinking? What are you here for?

  She lifted her hand and revealed a small white paper. “This is for you.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. She stepped forward, a distinct limp slowing her approach. The image of his indestructible Gemma so vulnerable crippled him. He locked his jaw to keep from crying. A few feet away, she stopped, holding out the paper. Her stare still locked to his. “The key to the Lozano kingdom.”

  His heart jumped. Or hiccupped. Or completely overturned. The key to the Lozano kingdom. He had no idea what that meant. It didn’t matter. He still couldn’t move.

  The second Gemma saw André, all of her anger and thirst for vengeance evaporated. Nothing else mattered except him. His gaze, his approval, his love was all she wanted. All she craved.

  Standing there in his disheveled button shirt, with the weight of a country clearly taking its toll, causing his shoulders to droop and the whites of his eyes to turn red. She desperately wanted to run her fingers through his wavy hair. Feel his hands on her, sink into his scent.

  When André didn’t take the paper, she handed it to Alanna, who wore a puzzled look.

  “Oslob cliffs, Cebu?” she read.

  “Direct from Vasco himself,” Stefano added darkly.

  “Cebu?” Flynn interjected. “That’s in the Philippines. Where Damon Ward said the Lozanos have a hideout somewhere, remember? In the security debrief file he gave you.”

  Gemma swallowed, the insecurity raging through her limbs because André still hadn’t said anything. He hadn’t even moved. He was only clenching his jaw so tightly like he was furious. He has every right to be angry. After what I said. What I did.

  She pressed her lips together, not sure how to say it. The words she’d feared her entire life. “A secret weapon should have been more reliable. I’m sorry I failed you.” Her voice shook, and she swallowed again. “I hope you can forgive me.”

  Her entire body trembled. Even her knees weakened. But he still didn’t move.

  I’m so unwelcome, he refuses to talk.

  The desire to obliterate Vasco from existence faded. Reyna’s last words to her resounded in her memory. Keep him safe. It was about André. Keeping him safe. Happy. Not about removing the target from his back, but instead helping him live his life. Beside him.

  This whole time, she’d misinterpreted Reyna’s message. Her focus had been vengeance, when it should have been love. Love with André.

  Only now, judging from his silence and rigid stance, it was too late. He’d shut her out.

  She’d blown it.

  “I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough for you,” she continued. “How strong can I be when I can’t even say I love you when I mean it? Because I do.” Everything in her body froze, like bracing for the onslaught of a thousand knives. “I love you, André.” A tear fought its way forward. Just let it out, Gemma. Quick, like taking off a band-aid. “I’ve loved you from the first time you stepped in horseshit on Reyna’s ranch. You’re the only one I’ve ever loved, and I’m scared shitless by it. But I understand if you don’t want me anymore.” The thought of that possibility—that probability—stole every last shred of her bravery. She nodded to the napkin. “I hope this helps you. Both of you. You shouldn’t have to suffer anymore.”

  From only a few feet away, his dark gaze bore down on her, making her feel like a rabbit staring down a giant wolf. A wolf that would rip her to pieces. Or worse—turn away forever. Which she couldn’t bear. She swallowed hard and looked at her feet.

  With a wipe of her cheek, she forced herself to look back into his eyes. “Goodbye, André.” Like the scared rabbit she was, she turned and nearly ran to the door. Except the limp kept her from moving faster than she wanted. All her energy had been sucked dry. The long plane ride, mustering the strength to see him, and putting aside her pride to apologize. Then admitting her love. The last part took everything she possessed. It was as terrifying as she expected. Worse.

  As she passed Stefano, the pity on his face made the rest of her world collapse. Get out, quick. Before I lose it.

  Just as she reached the door, a single word stopped her.

  “Gemma.” His voice. The voice. The only voice that mattered. When she turned, he was already across the room, moving fast toward her. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

  Her body froze, her heart stopped, and even her breath chilled. She couldn’t react. Everything processed in slow motion. His hands coming up to wrap around the back of her neck, his gaze pinning her to the floor. Then his mouth finally col
lided with hers. Claiming her lips. Her tongue. Her breath. Everything. His fingers glided into her hair, so soft and tender that more tears pricked her eyes. He pulled her into him, his movements gentle, until her breasts pushed against his chest. A twinge from the broken ribs made her wince, but André’s sweet and musky aftershave soothed away the aches.

  Her brain finally caught up with her body, and she wrapped her good hand around his head. Entwining her fingers in his hair, she nearly dropped right then. She deepened the kiss, ravaging his mouth and refusing to give him up. Even breathing wasn’t important, so long as he never let go.

  “Gemma, mi amor,” he whispered between kisses. “Are you real? If I’m dreaming, please don’t wake me.”

  “I’m sorry,” she confessed. “I shouldn’t have left the way I did.”

  He rested his forehead against hers, his deep breaths covering her face. She couldn’t tell who shook more.

  “Whatever happens…” He caressed her cheek. “We face it together, yes?”

  “Together,” she agreed. “Always.”

  ANDRÉ CUPPED GEMMA’S HAND IN his own, kissing her knuckles and breathing in her scent. Soap and sunshine. He still couldn’t believe she stood in front of him. He’d never let her out of his sight again.

  “How in the world did you get this?” Alanna asked, breathless.

  “Through great pain and difficulty,” Stefano answered for her, his spine stiff. Even out of his royal guardsman uniform, he wore the habits of a lifelong protector. André owed the man a million apologies and a billion gratitudes, but none of them seemed worthy.

  “Actually, he just kinda threw it on my lap.”

  “Why would he give her this?” Flynn asked out of nowhere. Everyone looked at him.

  “I’m still wondering the same thing.” Gemma turned toward the nautical engineer, but didn’t release André’s hand. “That FBI guy, Rover or whatever, said Lozano had a contract out on Vasco for failing to kill the royal family, which is why he turned himself in to the CIA.”

  “Who subsequently released him,” André spat. “Like playing cat and mouse with a perpetually changing maze, and players switching sides on a whim.”

  “If you said he was under the CIA’s protection,” Flynn pointed to the napkin, “why wouldn’t he give this to them? Have them take out Lozano.”

  “Unless he didn’t trust them to do the job.” Stefano held his chin high, eyes fierce.

  “What is this place exactly?” Alanna asked and looked at Stefano. “What’s the significance?”

  With a subtle sigh, the former guard cleared his throat. “The location of Lozano’s hideaway. A general staging point where he stashes money and weapons. A lot of evidence to convict him of countless crimes will surely be there.”

  “How do you know that, just from the words on this napkin?” Flynn asked.

  “It’s the same location Vasco was believed killed during a secret mission fifteen years ago, to take out the Lozano cartel during its infancy.”

  Both André and Alanna stared at Stefano. His father had never mentioned a previous attack on the cartel, or even knowing of its existence back then.

  Stefano clasped his hands behind his back. “We were looking for Santos Lozano’s property, me and seven others. Including Vasco, our most promising new recruit, fresh out of training. It was known as Operation Chironex. When we arrived, we were ambushed. Vasco went down in the middle of a dirt road that we thought led to Lozano’s estate, but there was so much counter fire, we couldn’t go back to grab him. We believed him dead. We now know that wasn’t the case. He was taken prisoner, and in his vengeance for leaving him behind, he switched sides. Then he became the most vicious assassin in Southeast Asia, which none of us knew until he attacked the prince at my Tia’s ranch, where Gemma identified the tattoos.”

  “Giving him more reason not to trust you with this intel.” Flynn folded the napkin and set it on the desk. “You were his target.”

  “Were,” Stefano emphasized, crossing his arms. “I’m the only one left who would understand the significance of that location. Me and one other.”

  “Who?” Alanna asked.

  “It doesn’t matter.” André shook his head. “What matters is that we have this info. We know what it means, and we need to move on it. Before he has a chance to cut and run.”

  “What are you suggesting?” his sister prodded. “We give this to the U.N. security team?”

  “Hell no. Damon Ward is the last person we share this with. Because then it’ll only get back to the United States, who will use this against us in defense negotiations. They’ll have all the cards.” The more André thought about it, the more his heart pumped. The more desperate he felt to end this threat. “We have to act now.”

  “How? With the Philippine authorities?” Alanna snorted. “We already know Lozano has them in his pocket.”

  “No.” André shook his head and stared at Stefano. “We go after him.”

  Gemma’s gaze snapped to his, caution filling her face. But Stefano’s was determined, almost a flicker of a smile reaching his lips.

  “A Solanian strike team on foreign soil against one of their citizens?” Alanna raised a perfectly manicured brow. “That’s highly illegal. If they’re discovered, we’ll be dragged before the International Criminal Court. Regardless of our intentions or Lozano’s guilt. They’ll have enough grounds to consider it an invasion.”

  “No more than what they’ve done to Solana. Or what the CIA does on a daily basis.”

  “You’re all forgetting one important thing.” Flynn took Alanna’s hand and squeezed. “How does this stop the maniac who’s already on the island? What’s his name, Rinaldo?”

  “Raul,” Stefano corrected darkly.

  “He’s already here,” Flynn continued. “Aren’t your forces busy trying to find that psychopath? Sending them to find an obscure estate overseas doesn’t exactly stop this man from raining more terror here.”

  “It might.” Gemma looked into André’s eyes, her glorious ice-blue irises more determined. “At that point, he’ll have two options. He’ll run because the money’s gone dry and his father isn’t there to back him. Or…” She glanced at Stefano. “Retaliate.”

  “Should I even ask how you know that?” Flynn asked quietly.

  Gemma scoffed. “Not my first encounter with low life scum. Loan sharks act the same way.”

  André squeezed her hip tighter, pulling her in closer. She’ll never have to go through atrocities like that again. Not with me beside her.

  “A man with as vicious a reputation as Raul holds, I’m guessing the latter.” Alanna rubbed her temples and paced in front of the desk. “Which would only pave the way for him taking over his father’s empire. We’d be doing him a favor.”

  “Your Highnesses, if you’ll permit me,” Stefano stepped forward and squared his shoulders. “I have an alternative.”

  Everyone faced him. A heavy shadow fell over André, weighing on his gut. He knew that grim face, the same one he wore to deliver the message that his father and brother had been killed. A memory flashed back in the Vegas hotel room, where he’d been whisked away during a security breach. He’d been surrounded by a dozen royal guards, and Stefano walked in with a look he’ll never forget. An oncoming atomic bomb, dropping in mid-air.

  “With U.N. security forces busy here searching for Raul Lozano, they would hardly notice or care about a select group of retired individuals who suddenly took a vacation to an undisclosed location. If we were discovered at all, who is to say the royal family was aware?”

  André’s heart sank, and Gemma’s posture deflated as she released his hand. “Stefano,” she stressed. “International vigilantes?”

  His expression softened a hair when he looked at her. “A concept I know you’re familiar with, given your desire for justice.”

  “Justice, not suicide.”

  “A tragedy how often those terms collide.”

  “Retired individuals.” André raise
d a brow. “With specific skills.”

  Stefano nodded.

  “You and who else?”

  He glanced to Alanna, his face stoic. “Señor Matteo Valera.”

  The princess gasped. “Rona’s father?” Her best friend. They had all believed that Señor Valera had been a retired fisherman teaching Alanna how to sail for most of her childhood, only to discover that he was a former royal guardsman, charged with helping the remaining royal lineage off the island in emergencies. He and Rona helped give Alanna the false identity she needed to escape during Solana’s initial invasion.

  Which had inadvertently led her to Flynn.

  “He was with you back on that original strike team, wasn’t he?” Alanna asked, realization covering her face. “Was that when he was injured? He said he was given a medical discharge.”

  Stefano nodded once. “He and I will choose the remaining six members so Your Highnesses cannot be held accountable. We’ll leave this evening.”

  André blinked. “No.”

  Everyone stared at him. But the word had come out of his mouth before he could stop it. Stefano had been his right hand and his protection ever since he was a child. Over the last eight years, he was the closest thing he had to a father, since his own had disowned him. The thought of sending this man to his almost-certain death made his mind unconsciously protest.

  Heart pounding, he walked over to his best friend, the man who’d been his guardian. He placed his hand on Stefano’s shoulder and squeezed. In a voice only they two could hear, he pleaded, “You’ve sacrificed so much already, your devotion to our country higher than anyone else’s, including my family. Please. Not you.”

  Stefano maintained his stiff posture and high chin, but his eyes smiled. “I swore to protect you with my life. I will keep that promise to my end.”

  “Then I grant you full reinstatement, if that is your wish. For however long you want it.” André bowed his head, lowering his voice further. “Assign someone else to go.”

  “To take my place and keep my promise for me?” Stefano shook his head. “I cannot.”