Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 46899 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46899 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
He stopped at the front entrance. The concierge appeared instantly. Louis handed over the keys without a word, took my hand, and led me inside.
Then he slowly lifted his shirt.
I froze.
He was bleeding. Not a little. Profusely.
“What the hell?” I whispered.
The man at the door stared. Then stared harder.
“Fuck,” he muttered. “Did he have to make it a scar?”
Louis winced. “Wouldn’t want the crest any other way.”
The man nodded. “I’ll show you to your reserved room, Mr.—”
Louis hesitated.
Then quietly said, “Alfero. Louis Alfero.”
My last name.
I frowned. I didn’t remember a clause in our vows where he took my name.
I glanced back at his side and yanked his elbow down.
It was our crest.
My family crest.
Carved into his skin.
My hand fell, shaking. “When… why—”
He gently pushed my hand away. “Fathers,” he said calmly, “always have impeccable timing. And reasons for everything.” A pause. “Then again, he could’ve just said welcome to the family like a normal human.”
I burst out laughing. “Sorry—that’s just… extremely theatrical for him.”
The smile left Louis’s eyes.
“I think,” he said softly, “he was feeling emotional.”
A chill slid down my spine. “Oh?”
His grip tightened on my arm.
“He was welcoming another son.”
24
LOUIS
In the actions of men, and especially of princes, one judges by the result. — Niccolo Machiavelli
She deserved answers.
And I deserved a moment with her—to imagine a life without regret, without the weight of everything pressing down on us.
But first—
I tossed the piece of paper from the black folder onto the bed. “What you’re looking for. I think.”
It was Cassian’s birth certificate.
She picked it up. I saw the exact moment realization hit—saw it in the way her fingers stilled, in the way her breath caught—before she dropped it back onto the bed and swore.
“That’s not what I was expecting.”
I shrugged. “Apparently it was common back then. Heirs were whisked away by nannies. Hidden. Insurance, in case families ever had to flee to the States from the European countries.” I crossed my arms. “Now that they’re all here, there’s going to be a bloodbath. They’ll demand he return to his rightful place, a place that’s been empty far too long. Complete and total. The Italians won’t be pleased another will rise to power.”
Tempest leaned back against the plush white headboard. Listening. Watching.
“Phoenix knows,” I continued. “It’s probably the only reason Cassian’s still breathing. It’s also why the Vescovi can’t afford to kill him. Leverage.” My jaw tightened. “They have something more precious than money.”
Her gaze sharpened. “The missing Velkarya heir—at least one of them. They were given independence by England, stole money from the French. Too small to destroy, rich enough to want to defend with your life. It’s been under the rule of a regent for the last decade after the heirs went missing—some say they died. I guess we know that’s not the case. Bold, for the Vescovis to keep this secret. He’s worth more alive than dead. He can literally trace his routes back to Prince Dominique Makslyov.” She smiled to herself. “I used to love to read stories about the prince, he was a musical prodigy with scarred hands, grumpy disposition, gorgeous face, even bigger heart.” She shook the thought away. “Some say it’s just another retelling of Beauty and the Beast, I say it’s something more.” She exhaled. “The Velkarya motto is ‘Per Sanguinem, Pax. Or through blood, peace’.” It was heavy. It was a lot I’m sure for her to process and I’m sure many men died trying to protect the information. Tempest looked up. “Someone wanted them gone and now that we know where he is, it’s only natural we set things to right.” I sucked in a sharp breath. “You, you’ll need to help set things to right, otherwise you wouldn’t have been trusted with this information.”
I went still. “Now we know why.”
I nodded. “Which begs the question.”
“What does this mean for Cassian? Trade one prison for another?” She frowned. “I knew his hair was fake!”
She was beautiful when she thought—dangerous, sharp. Funny when the moment called for someone to crack. I smiled. “What does it mean for any prodigal son?” I said quietly. “The prince has to go claim his throne. We send Cassian to Velkarya as soon as everything is over.”
She pushed herself up on her elbows. “He’s a survivor. He just needs to get away from the Vescovis long enough to—”
She stopped mid-sentence. And I knew she’d figured it completely out.
“Holy shit,” she breathed. “I’m an idiot.” Her eyes snapped to mine. “This is all part of the plan. You’re his replacement, aren’t you? They want the ports open but they want a foothold if they’re to lose him and it’s worth losing him to gain that port and the power that comes with it. Plus, they must feel powerful enough to finally push him into play. Can they control him? Does he care? I can’t decide if it’s genius or insanity.”