“You were surprised by the critical reaction?”
She inhaled and attempted a casual shrug. She didn’t want to play the princess card and say they were all haters. “A little. I tried to do some unique things with feathers and use leather that drapes like a fabric.”
“Perhaps those ideas were not as original as you thought.” He steepled his hands in front of his face. “But I see potential.” His brows lowered. “Do you really intend to attend classes all week long like your fellow students? Many of them are here late into the night sewing garments. Surely that would interfere with your official schedule?”
“It would be a challenge, but I’m confident I could rise to it.” She decided not to mention the spring line that she’d already started sketching last night to replace the drawings she’d burned. She might have to rent or buy a place in Milan to make juggling everything easier. And why not? Her brothers and sisters had moved all over the world to pursue their dreams.
“Then I’d like to offer you a place at Instituto Marangoni, starting this September.”
Beatriz burst into tears.
“That’s not quite the reaction I was expecting.” He looked amused.
“I’d like to accept.” She groped for a handkerchief, trying to stop the hiccupping sobs that racked her body. “I’m so sorry. It’s been an emotional week.”
“I understand, and congratulations on your first show.” When she finally stemmed the waterworks, they had a nice chat about the current Milanese design scene and her orders in the States and he mentioned some current students she should look up and talk to.
Beatriz was floating on air as she took the elevator back down to the first floor and marched out of the institute with a beaming smile on her face.
“I guess it went well,” said Nina, as she approached the car.
“I hope you like Milan,” said Beatriz, her voice shaky with excitement. “Because it looks like I’m going to be spending a lot of time here.”
Now all she had to do was tell Lorenzo. And her family.
Beatriz was exhausted and emotionally spent when she arrived back at the lake house in Altaleone, so she put off sharing her news until the next day. Lorenzo told her two new orders had come in and chided her gently for not checking her email. She refrained from saying that she was too busy dancing on air.
She wanted to tell him about her acceptance to the institute in person because she was a little afraid that if she mentioned it on the phone he might not take it seriously. She asked him to come to the palace the next day so she could share the news with all of them at once.
The next morning she drove to the palace and rode her horse—this time without making the mistake of stopping to read press clippings in her mother’s office. She’d finished schooling Gatto and was cooling him out by walking him around the arena when her phone pinged.
Lorenzo’s back! She pulled out her phone, a smile already spreading across her mouth. But her feelings of joy shriveled when she saw a menacing message from an unknown number. I’m watching you, prepare to die.
Beatriz jumped off her horse, grabbed the reins and led him back into the barn at a trot. This text was a bold threat and cut to the quick. “Nina!” She knew Nina was nearby since it was her job to keep an eye on her at all times. “Call Gibran.”
Nina came running. “What is it?”
“A threat on my phone.” Matteo, the groom, appeared out of nowhere, and she handed Gatto to him. “And I never reported the last one I got. I want this traced.”
“Let me see.” Nina thrust out her hand, and Beatriz put the phone into it. “I’m going to try calling that number.”
She pushed buttons while they strode from the stables toward the main palace. For the first time Beatriz felt a cold chill of fear. Her life was going so well—even the sting of the press about the show had subsided—and now this? Wasn’t that just how life worked? She’d be on top of the world one minute, lying in a pool of blood the next. And Sandro’s shooting was still painfully fresh in her mind. He still sometimes winced from the injury.
Gibran came running, bringing guards who surrounded Beatriz. “Nina sent me the message, and I consider it an imminent threat. All family members are under heavy guard. We’re running diagnostics on the number right now, in coordination with the local telecom companies. The text appears to have originated in Zurich, but there are ways to bounce information in order to disguise the location of origin.”
Beatriz felt her terror subside a little at the prospect that the texter wasn’t even in Altaleone. “I don’t know why it scared me so much. It’s just a text message.”
“In light of the murders, and the attacks on Emma and Sandro, you’re all at risk. We’re trying to uncover the network of people involved in the suspected conspiracy, but many persons of interest have access to unlimited funds and very good lawyers so we haven’t made as much progress as we’d hoped.”
The stab at Lorenzo made her look up. Lorenzo was flying back into Zurich today. “You don’t still suspect Lorenzo Aldobrando, do you?”
Gibran’s stony features didn’t reveal a hint of emotion. “Everyone is a suspect until proven otherwise.”
Beatriz heard her phone ping in his hand. “Can I see it?”
Gibran glanced at it first before handing it to her. “It’s him.”
Beatriz looked at the screen, half expecting to see another threat, but this time it was Lorenzo.
Landed and in the car. I’m on my way.
Be careful. Beatriz started shivering. She texted back a thumbs-up sign, not wanting to say more with people watching her. Loose killer aside, her muscles were tense from all the excitement over yesterday’s interview and the acceptance, and she was still afraid to even look at the Internet in case she ran across another scathing review of her designs. “Would it be okay if I go take a hot shower?” She didn’t want to be sweaty from riding when Lorenzo arrived.
“Of course. Nina will accompany you into your suite.”
Beatriz sighed. She truly missed the relative privacy of the premurder days, though maybe it was just because the staff back then were old familiar friends who felt more like family members. All these new security staff made her nerves bristle.
Nina followed Beatriz to her bedroom and locked the door behind them, then Beatriz went in to run the shower. “I’m afraid you’ll have to sit on the chair or something.” How awkward having a security guard—even a female one—right in her bedroom.
“Don’t worry. I won’t let anyone get in here, no matter what.” Nina stood just inside the door, her gun drawn.”
“I appreciate that.” Beatriz hated the sight of guns. The sight of Nina’s finger near the trigger gave her a chill.
“I have six years of military training.”
“That’s great.” Beatriz wondered if she should undress in the bedroom like she normally did but decided not to. “I’ll be out in a moment.”
“Are you sure you don’t need me to come in there? There is a window. Someone could climb up.”
Beatriz stiffened and attempted a smile but only managed a grimace. “I’ll take my chances.”
She closed the door behind her, glad Nina hadn’t insisted, but also glad she was out there. She’d been so distracted by Lorenzo and her designs and the house that she’d been tuning out the ever-present threat to the royal family. She turned on the shower, undressed and climbed in, glad there was a glass door, not a curtain like the shower scene in Psycho.
When she opened the bathroom door, still in her towel, she jumped at the sight of Nina standing in front of the door, gun drawn. “Everything okay?”
“So far.”
Nina stepped aside. “Did you get any texts that you haven’t mentioned to us?”
Beatriz froze, remembering the previous one that she just hadn’t had the energy to deal with. “Just one. Nothing new or different.”
“Can I see it?”
Beatriz frowned. It irked her that her phone, filled with intimacie
s with Lorenzo, could just be commanded by the security staff. Still, she pulled up the thread. What makes you so sure Lorenzo isn’t the murderer?
She shuddered. She’d totally blocked this one from her mind. It creeped her out that Lorenzo’s name was in it and suddenly made her worry about his safety.
She handed it to Nina, who studied it. “This person, whoever they are, always texts you when Lorenzo is on his way.”
“Yes, we’ve already determined that. But I know the texts aren’t from Lorenzo.”
“How do you know?”
Beatriz frowned. How did Nina know that Lorenzo was on his way when she got this text? “I just know.”
“In cases of domestic crime, it’s usually the person closest to the victim who is the perpetrator,” said Nina softly.
Beatriz stared at her and clutched her towel closer to her chest. “You’ve spent enough time watching me with Lorenzo to see how much he’s done to help me fulfill my goals.”
“But why wouldn’t he talk to Gibran, even if just to say he’s innocent?”
“Because the interview itself puts him under suspicion, as you saw in that article you showed me. I still don’t know how that got out.” Could have been someone from the courts or the judges office.
No doubt Nina thought her crazy to blindly defend Lorenzo. Isn’t that what abused women did for their partners?
“Just know that I’m here to defend you.” Nina still held her gun in her hand.
“That’s very reassuring,” murmured Beatriz, feeling just the opposite. She grabbed some clothes and took them back in the bathroom. Once she was dressed she hurried downstairs as fast as possible, Nina trailing behind her.
It took Lorenzo a long time to drive from the airport, and she texted him several times to make sure he was safe. His car allowed him to listen to texts and respond by voice, so she wasn’t putting him in danger. Her nerves jangled with impatience and anxiety. Of course it could be the cheery I’m watching you, prepare to die message that she couldn’t get out of her head. Obviously that was enough to freak Nina into a heightened state of alert. Darias and Emma arrived, and Darias demanded a fresh briefing from Gibran. Security guards hovered in every corner while she, her mom, Sandro and Serena attempted to distract themselves with wedding ideas and Lucky’s antics.
Finally a bustle of staff activity heralded Lorenzo’s arrival. Despite his long drive and longer flight, he glowed with health and strength and was a sight for her sore eyes. She gave him the biggest hug she’d ever given anyone.
“I missed you so much. You’re not upset about the articles anymore, are you?” He held her in his arms.
“No. I’m over that. They’re just jealous haters.”
“Did you tell your family about the orders from stores?” Lorenzo lifted a brow and looked at her mom.
“What orders?” Her mom’s head cocked.
Beatriz wished she could gag him. She needed to warm them up slowly to this kind of thing so as to avoid a big kerfuffle of how her selling clothing might affect the royal brand. And she didn’t want that discussion now. She was bursting to tell him of her acceptance to Instituto Marangoni. “Can I talk to you alone?” she half whispered it, which was silly as there were at least ten people within earshot anyway. Privacy was a pipe dream in a big palace.
“Yes.” A tiny wrinkle furrowed his brow. She led him into one of the back sitting rooms that was rarely used since her dad died.
Before she closed the door, he asked. “You got another text?”
She pulled out her phone and showed him. I’m watching you, prepare to die.
She sighed. “It’s got everyone freaked out, hence the cast of thousands in every room. There’s probably someone crouched outside the window ready to defend me with an assault rifle.”
“It’s a direct threat.” He frowned deeply. “But d’you know who I think it is?”
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
“You?” Beatriz lifted a brow. “That’s who Nina thinks. It originated in Zurich right when you were there.”
“I think it’s Nina.” Lorenzo fixed those gray eyes on her. “She’s always watching you. She follows you everywhere, sees all your movements. And you said the man who shot Sandro was a trusted staff member. Maybe she’s part of this conspiracy to disrupt and destroy the royal family.”
Beatriz was speechless for a moment. “But…why?”
“Who knows? What do you know about her background?”
“Nothing, but everyone on Gibran’s staff is thoroughly vetted. I don’t know where she’s from, but she’s not local. Her accent sounds Scandinavian.”
“I’ve been watching her for a while. She’s with you all the time and sometimes I see her looking at you almost possessively. There’s something a little off about her.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I didn’t have any proof, and I didn’t want to upset you. But now things have come to a head I’d like to publicly accuse her and see what happens. Is that okay with you?”
Beatriz stomach clenched. “But they trust her. She’s been cleared by security. What if they end up throwing you in jail?”
“Will you visit me there?” A dark glimmer of mischief shone in his eyes.
“Absolutely.” This was no joking matter.
“Then I’ll be fine. Trust me.” He opened the door and let her walk first back into the living room, past Nina, who was standing nearby in the hallway but not close enough to overhear their conversation. They’d established those space boundaries several weeks earlier—when she was with Lorenzo, Nina needed to stay out of earshot.
“Nina, could you come in?” Lorenzo invited her into the living room. He still had Beatriz’s phone in his hand. “As you all know, Beatriz got this message today. I’m watching you, prepare to die. She’s not dead, and no one has tried to kill her.”
“I haven’t taken my eyes off her,” said Nina proudly.
“I know. You’re the one who’s watching her, and I believe that you sent this message and the prior threatening text messages.”
An angry flush rose up Nina’s neck. “Why would I want to do that?”
“Nina has six years of experience in the Norwegian armed forces and no connections whatsoever to Altaleone or this region.” Gibran spoke up forcefully. “My staff has been scrutinized to the utmost degree.”
Lorenzo kept his stern gaze on Nina. “Then perhaps she wanted to make herself feel more important by inventing a crisis.”
Nina swallowed. “It’s him. He’s the texter. He’s an enemy of the family. His family has been trying to get the land she inherited back for centuries. He probably hopes to marry her and then kill her and keep the land.”
Beatriz blinked. How did Nina even know about the family feud? Possibly just from listening in on family conversations—especially the blunter ones involving Darias. “That’s nonsense. Lorenzo doesn’t care about ancient history.”
Darias stepped closer. “It’s not that ancient, Bea. He did apply for development permission only two years ago.”
“For his own land! On the other side of the lake! He only had to ask for permits in Altaleone because his family property directly abuts the crown land. His request had nothing whatsoever to do with my land.”
“Except that your land sits right next to his and has better road access, a longer strip of lake shore and more beautiful views of the mountains.” Darias lifted his chin, surveying Lorenzo down the length of his aristocratic nose.
“And he wanted to scare her into his arms. To be her hero,” blurted Nina.
Lorenzo had the gall to look amused.
“Lorenzo is already my hero.” Beatriz was growing exasperated. “And I’m beginning to think that he has a point.”
“It could be someone else!” protested Nina. “A murderer in your midst.”
“Nina, follow me.” Gibran gave a slight nod of his head. They left the room.
“You really think I want your sister for her property?” asked Lore
nzo coolly, eyes on Darias. “Don’t you see the vibrant, warm, loving, beautiful woman I see?”
Beatriz’s heart swelled.
“Of course I do.”
Lorenzo looked right at Darias. “May I speak to you alone?”
“Sure.” Darias sounded grudging, but they walked out the same door as Gibran and Nina.
Beatriz looked from her mom to Sandro to Serena. She was bursting to tell someone that she’d been accepted at the instituto, but if she told them now, no one would even hear her. “Am I going crazy, or is it everyone else?”
“Both, I suspect,” said Sandro with a wink. “But I don’t think you need to prepare to die.”
She sighed. “I’ll try to take comfort in that.”
Lorenzo followed Darias into a large study. A large mahogany globe bore a map of the world from a long-gone era. Appropriate since Altaleone sometimes seemed like the land that time forgot.
Adrenaline poured through Lorenzo’s veins as he closed the door behind them. Usually so sure of himself, he couldn’t tell if he was about to make a fatal mistake. “I’d like to marry your sister.”
Darias spun around. “Does she know this?”
“No. I haven’t asked yet. Since her father is dead and you are now head of the family, I thought I should ask you.”
“Because this is the fifteenth century?”
“Because she’s a princess, and I know her first allegiance will always be to her family and to Altaleone.”
Darias’s stunned and stony expression softened. “I’m not sure whether to be honored that you chose to ask me first or offended on Beatriz’s behalf that you didn’t ask her first.”
“I have no desire to cause ill will within the family. I’ll be blunt. I know you don’t like me. From the first you’ve seen me as an interloper, possibly with some ulterior motive. Just moments ago you accused me of scheming to grab her land. How could I ask her to marry me under these circumstances without clearing the air with you first?”
Darias’s brows lowered. “Clearing the air? You think winning my trust will be that easy?”
The Princess's Scandalous Affair (Royal House of Leone Book 4) Page 18
