Dirty Thief

by Tia Louise

  “This is about the refugees,” another of Fayed’s men states as if the suggestion disgusts him. “This is religious discrimination.”

  “It’s about the trucks being driven into crowds during holiday gatherings,” Cal answers quickly, his tone laced with anger.

  It’s my turn to reach over and touch his arm. “You know the difficulties we’ve had over the last two years. You know what happened to me at the race,” I say. “The time for pretending we don’t have enemies has come to an end. We have to start enforcing certain safety measures. It’s not to inhibit trade or keep anyone out.”

  “What happened at the race came from within,” the other man argues.

  “You’re right,” I agree. “No system is perfect, and if someone wants to do harm, they will find a way. We’re just hoping to slow them down. Perhaps catch more than we miss.”

  “Why are you calling me?” Fayed asks. “As far as I can tell, Tunis is not on your watch list.”

  “I wanted to be sure you understood our reasoning,” I answer. “By way of our being old friends.”

  “Also, we hoped you might discuss this with Fethi,” Cal says, referencing the Turkish ambassador. “We know the two of you are close confidents.”

  “It’s a difficult position you put me in, my friend.” Fayed lifts the stack of papers he has that matches mine. “However, I remember what happened at the race. You might have won.”

  My shoulders relax. Jokes mean we’re making progress. “I hope the esteemed gentlemen in the room all heard that.”

  “I said might.” The older prince smiles.

  “Thank you, Fayed. I hope we see each other in person again very soon.”

  “Off the track.”

  A touch and the screen goes dark. I turn to face my brother, and he exhales loudly. “It’s the best we can hope for. If businesses are going to pull out or boycott us over this, it can’t be helped.”

  “The version we finally approved is better than the one they originally sent over. Reggie was calling for a complete ban of all Turkish logistical services.”

  “Is that all you needed me to do?” He glances up.

  “That and confront the bastard who was bothering my wife.”

  “I’ll go with you tomorrow night. We’ll meet at the bar and get rid of him. Then Zee and I can head back to Tortola.”

  I can’t resist a tease. “Sure you’re not ready to move back and help me out?”

  He looks up, and I’m surprised by his thoughtful answer. “Things are getting pretty complicated around here. I feel irresponsible living the island life. Still, I don’t think Zelda would go for it, and I promised her she wouldn’t have to live in the palace after we were married.”

  My eyebrows rise. “You think she wouldn’t have said yes?”

  “I don’t know, brother.” He shakes his head. “I really don’t know.”

  “No wonder she has you so whipped.”

  He glances back. “How’s that?”

  “You always did lose interest when your relationships got predictable.”

  “So it’s Karma?”

  I pat him on the back. “It’s exactly what you want. Just let me know if you change her mind.”

  * * *

  Seven forty-five at the Yacht Club. I’m waiting for my unwelcome guest and tracing my finger over the rim of my tumbler of Jameson. My demeanor has completely changed. Before, I was angry and protective and ready to get rid of this lowlife. Now Ava is pregnant, and while my mood is lighter, I’m even less willing to deal with this bastard than ever before.

  Cal is with me on this errand, but he has taken a seat at the bar. We decided it would be less intimidating, and the truth is, I’ve convinced myself to focus on getting rid of this guy. We have a baby on the way. Ava wants to put her past to rest. I hope I’m able to accommodate her wishes.

  Noise at the front of the club draws my attention. The host looks at me and back at the idiot who forgot to wear a dinner jacket.

  “I’m meeting the king!” Vega’s voice is slurry and he is as rude as ever.

  “I am sorry, monsieur, proper dress code must be observed. We have several dinner jackets you may borrow if you’ll step over here.”

  Cal and I exchange a look. I should have expected this. Still, it gives me time to mentally prepare for our meeting. When Vega approaches the table, I’m more disgusted than ever.

  Standing, I don’t shake his hand. “You stink,” I mutter.

  “I’m not showering for you. I don’t want to impress you.” His voice is again the pig-child. “Give me my money.”

  I cross one leg over the other. The tumbler of Jameson is in my left hand, and I study this worm. He hunches forward across the small table from me. I could probably kill him with two punches, yet if Ava is right, he is responsible for the death of two women. He assaulted my beautiful wife when she was only a teenager, and now he is attempting to blackmail us.

  “What?” he dares to ask. “Why are you looking at me that way?”

  It takes me a moment to relax my brow, to unclench my fist. “I will give you the fifteen thousand dollars my wife accidentally stole from you.”

  “If it was such an accident, why didn’t she give it back?”

  He actually sounds like the whiney loser he is. “She was a girl. She has no interest in seeing you ever again.”

  “That’s not true.”

  For a moment, I pause. I look at my brother sitting at the bar, and he gives me a reassuring nod. I can do this.

  “As I was saying, I’ll give you the original amount… on these conditions.” Reaching into my coat, I pull two sheets of paper folded together long ways. Placing them in front of him, I smooth my hand down the seam. “By signing this document, you agree never to contact Ava Wilder-Tate again. It is also a nondisclosure agreement, which means you are not allowed to speak of this incident. Ever. Basically, you will take your money and walk away. Never contact, mention, or think of my wife again.”

  He leans back in the chair looking at the pages. I’m not sure if he’s able to read the words, but I wait as he makes a show of holding the document close to his face and moving it away.

  “What if I don’t want to sign this?” He puts the pages down on the table. “What if I say you can shove this up your royal ass? Ava stole from me, and I can go to the tabloids and tell everyone what she did.”

  The skin around my neck burns with rage, and my fist is once again clenched. I’m one second from ramming it in his face. Repeatedly. Until he stops making sounds. “I would strongly advise you reconsider something so stupid.”

  “What if I want the full value of that note?” he asks, glaring at me with watery brown eyes. “Fifteen thousand dollars is nothing to a guy like you. You’re a king. You live in this fancy place with all these rich people. Interest on fifteen thousand dollars is a lot. Then it can be compounded…”

  “And you can be sent to jail for sexual assault.”

  “I never assaulted Ava. I never did anything but kiss her.” He weaves in the chair. “Women like being held down. It’s all I did to her.”

  My stomach roils at the thought. I don’t answer. I simply stare at him.

  “But she did steal from me. It’s a verifiable fact.”

  Again, I don’t point out that he just contradicted himself. Instead, I point to the sheets of paper. “This is how you will get fifteen thousand dollars. Take it or leave it.”

  “I’m leaving it!” He stands, jerking the coat off his shoulders. “You’re not cheating me. I’m getting what I’ve got coming. You’ve got one day to get it together. I want everything I’m owed.”

  I know what I’m prepared to give him, but out of curiosity, I have to ask. “What are you owed?”

  “One hundred and fifty thousand dollars.” He starts to go and then steps back. “Hand-delivered by Ava. To my hotel.”

  “Which hotel?”

  “Monte Cristo.”

  With that he staggers to the door. He throws the blazer
on the floor in front of the host, and pushes through the glass entrance. I lean back in my chair and steeple my fingers in front of my lips. Rooms at the Monte Cristo start at thirty-seven dollars a night.

  Cal walks over and takes a seat. “Did it or did it not go as planned?” He leans forward on his elbows and takes a pull from his tumbler of vodka. “I haven’t decided.”

  “He’s a fucking amateur.” I lift the tumbler and finish my drink. “Let’s go. We’re moving on to Plan B.”

  “And what is Plan B?”

  “It’s yours. We’ll make him disappear using judicial measures.”

  He pushes off his legs. “Perfect.”

  Not perfect in my mind, but at least it’s legal. It’s Vega’s last chance to get out of this alive, and if he continues fucking with me, I won’t hesitate to do what needs to be done. No one threatens my family.

  Chapter 18

  Ava

  Zelda is completely reclined in her leather armchair. Belle is stomach to stomach with her mother, sound asleep and baby-snoring, which is adorable. I’m in the recliner next to them also leaned back, and we’re watching Party Girl on the palace’s home theater system. It’s Zelda’s all-time favorite Parker Posey movie, which I know because she is always telling me.

  “You know, I never got bit by the movie bug like you did,” I say, stuffing a handful of movie-theater popcorn in my mouth.

  “And you got the massive home theater. It’s absolutely unfair.”

  “You could have it, too, if you lived in the palace.”

  “Quit hogging the popcorn,” she grumbles. “I’m trapped under a very heavy toddler.”

  “I’m eating for two.”

  “That’s a myth.” She holds out her hand, and I shove the bucket of popcorn at her. “Although, you’ll probably do like one of those supermodels and smuggle the baby the entire time and be back in a bikini all ripped three weeks after giving birth.”

  “You are so mean to me.” I reach for another handful.

  “I’m very bitter. You got all the good genes.” She takes her own handful of popcorn and shoves it in her mouth. “Gene hog.”

  “You’re not doing so bad. Cal loves you like crazy, and he’s wild and sexy.”

  “Shh!” She hits my arm. “I love this part.”

  I roll my eyes, like she hasn’t seen this movie five million times.

  “Improvise. Tell her you got sick of London street fashion—all those hats,” Zelda quotes. “Natasha!”

  “You lower my worth,” I say with Parker Posey. “Nigel, you lower my worth.”

  “And you act like you don’t love movies.” Zelda is smug.

  “Imitate a cat puking,” I tease, and she starts to laugh.

  We get quiet and watch a few minutes longer. “Rowan increases my worth,” I say quietly.

  Zee is right there, not letting me get away with anything as always. “You have your own worth. Rowan has nothing to do with your worth.”

  I turn my head and smile, reaching out for her hand. “Still, he doesn’t lower my worth.”

  “I’ll let you say it that way, but no man gives you worth. You are amazing all by yourself.”

  My eyes heat, and I push up on my knees, leaning over our recliners and her zonked-out toddler to kiss her head. “I love you, Zelda Wilder. You were the best mamma I ever had.”

  Of course, she frowns. “Don’t make me cry while I’m watching Party Girl.”

  “I wish you would let Cal move home,” I tease, giggling as I say it. “You have no excuse. The beaches at Monagasco are just as beautiful as Tortola.”

  “And crawling with paparazzi,” she answers fast.

  I can’t argue with that. “Either way, I miss you. I don’t want to have a baby without you with me.”

  She’s quiet a while, and Parker Posey dances on the library tables, shelving books according to the Dewey Decimal System. “Rowan will be with you when you have the baby.”

  I can’t not glare at her. She exhales dramatically. “I’ll be here for you, Ava-bug. Don’t worry about it.”

  Leaning back in my chair, I watch the movie a few minutes longer, but my mind is across town. “Aren’t you worried about the guys meeting with Dwayne?”

  “I’d be worried if I were there,” she grumbles. “Cal knew better than to even give me the chance. I would’ve done more than smash a lamp over his head this time.”

  “I’m sorry I took that wallet. I wish so much I’d just left it behind.”

  Her strong hand immediately clasps mine. “Stop it. That asshole tried to hurt you. You did what you did to take your power back. None of us hold any of this against you.”

  “But he’s threatening all of us. He’s threatening Rowan by exposing me, he’s threatening Belle…”

  “Threatening. That fucknut will never succeed at anything he pretends he can do.” She takes another handful of popcorn. “Trust me. I’ve seen the way your husband the king looks at you.”

  Again, we watch the movie in silence. The sweet Lebanese guy shows up at her apartment, only to be confused by her roommate Leo. I feel sad for him.

  “Mustafa is so adorable,” I sigh.

  “You have such a type,” Zee says.

  I don’t care. I watch the thoughtful, handsome fellow dismiss the insane crew.

  “Hey, Zee?”

  She makes an impatient noise. “What?”

  “Do you think you get a finite amount of luck? Like you’re either lucky in love or you’re lucky in money or you’re lucky in politics… but not all three?”

  “What the hell kind of question is that?”

  My chest is tight, and I can’t help thinking about all the wheels in motion around us. So many things we can’t control.

  “I was just thinking…”

  “What kind of luck do you want?” she asks, looking over at me.

  My lips twist as I chew the inside of my cheek. I think about all of it—the orphans, Dwayne, our baby, Rowan’s concerns over state matters.

  “Does lucky in love mean my family is taken care of?”

  Zelda looks over and smiles. “You’re the exact kind of lucky you need to be. Okay?”

  Nodding, I slide down in the chair, resting my cheek on the arm.

  * * *

  When I open my eyes again, I’m in the bed with Rowan at my back. His warm body curls around mine, and his strong arm is over my waist. I want to wake him and ask what happened tonight. I want to ask if the nightmare is over and we can forget everything but growing the teeny little baby in my stomach.

  I don’t wake him. He’s had a busy day, and I guess I have as well. Shit! In that moment, I realize I forgot to send the message to our German ambassador about Suad’s aunt. I’ve been so distracted… It’s been almost two days, and Clare will be waiting for my answer.

  Lifting Rowan’s hand, I kiss it and tuck it under his pillow before slipping out of bed. Taking my robe from the floor, I wrap it around me before walking down the hall to where my laptop waits. I click on the icon to pull up the orphan tip line.

  As I wait, I think about the pretty little girl. I think how happy I am she will finally be reunited with her family. The screen changes, and I see I have a new message in my inbox.

  I’m reading the details when my pulse ticks faster. It’s a reply to the “Family information” email I’d deleted earlier in the week. Acid fills my stomach, as I realize it’s a message sent directly to me from Vega. With trembling hands, I move the cursor over the message, clicking it to open.

  My Dear Ava,

  You did not follow my instructions. I said for you to bring me the money. YOU.

  YOU YOU YOU!!!

  You were supposed to meet me on the beach. I wanted to see my beautiful girl. Instead you betrayed me. I trusted you, and you betrayed me.

  I don’t want to take something of yours, but you leave me no choice. You leave me no choice but to break something. Something must restore the balance you disrupted.

  Your king wants to
pay me off. He wants me to meet him and give him an answer, but no answer will ever be right without you. I can’t be held responsible for restoring the balance.

  I need to see you, my beautiful Ava. It’s the only way to make this right. Tell me when I can see you.

  Yours always,

  Daddy Dwayne

  Ice filters down my veins as I re-read the words. I read them again. I read them one more time. I feel the sickness enter my stomach. I feel the fear twisting my throat. Clearly, what Rowan and Cal were planning for tonight did not go the way they expected.

  Dwayne Vega is insane, and I have to stop him before he tries to carry out whatever sick plans are in his head. I have my baby. I have my beautiful husband. I’ve found my happily ever after, and I’ll be damned if I let some lowlife asshole take it away from me.

  The fist of anger, the survivor will of iron that has always been inside me roars to life. My eyes wander the screen, and I run through the catalog in my mind. I have to steal a gun.

  Chapter 19

  Rowan

  Ava is in my arms when my separate, government phone buzzes with a text. I haven’t even had a chance to talk to her about last night, and I have to face what’s happening in our tiny kingdom. My personal phone sits happily quiet—because anyone with a life is still asleep at six a.m. That fucking black phone, however, buzzes again.

  “I guess that’s my job,” I groan, carefully sliding my arms from beneath my sleeping wife.

  Turning in the bed, I pick it up and see it’s André. “I’m pretty sure I’ll be glad when Logan’s trip with Kass and Reggie is over.”

  It’s André’s first time working directly with my guards, and as a result, he’s being extra vigilant and reporting in with overwhelming frequency.

  Sorry to disturb you, sir, he texts. Police just reported another rape-murder victim found. I’m concerned it’s more than a coincidence.

  “Fuck!” I hiss under my breath.