Broken Princess: Ruthless Rulers Book 3

by Hart, Stella

  I narrowed my eyes and leaned forward. “She threatened to expose you, didn’t she?”

  “Yes. In fact, she was in the middle of typing out some sort of exposé on her phone when I realized what she was up to and grabbed her.”

  “What happened then?”

  “Well, I was very sad, but I knew I couldn’t let it slide. I had to come up with a plan to deal with her.”

  “That plan involved me, didn’t it?”

  Liz smiled thinly. “Yes.”

  “Why?” I asked, folding my arms. “Why not kill her yourself? It’s not like you didn’t have the resources to do it and get away with it.”

  “I know. But I didn’t want to kill my own daughter and get absolutely nothing out of it,” she said, curling her upper lip. “So I decided to use you. I’ve kept a close eye on you over the years, seeing as you were destined to join our family one day, and I knew all of your habits and routines. I also knew your overly-ambitious mother would cover up absolutely anything you did in order to keep you—and her burgeoning career—out of trouble.”

  “So you set it all up.”

  She smiled proudly. “Yes. I drugged Chloe and took her out to an isolated spot you loved to frequent on that motorbike of yours, and when you came close, I pushed her out onto the road. My associates had created a little oil spill in that exact spot a few hours earlier, so you were bound to hit her.” Liz’s shoulders drooped slightly. “I misjudged the damage the collision would do, though. I thought it would kill Chloe, but it didn’t.”

  “Why didn’t you finish her off?”

  She shrugged. “No point. She was in a vegetative state after the accident, and that was good enough. She wasn’t going to tell anyone the truth about me or the Order,” she said. “Just in case, I have a doctor inject her with certain drugs every so often. It prevents her from regaining any major brain functions.”

  Bile rose in my throat. “You’re sick,” I said. Before she could respond, I held up a hand. “Wait, no. You aren’t sick. You just did it for the greater good. Right?”

  “I know you’re being facetious, but yes. I did.”

  I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms. “What did you expect to gain from using me to dispose of Chloe?”

  “I thought the guilt might help, to be honest.”

  “How?”

  Her forehead creased. “When we brought you into the family, as per your contract, I knew you wouldn’t be happy. I knew there would be escape attempts. But I thought you might feel so guilty about what you did to Chloe that you would eventually weaken and accept your place with us. After all, you wouldn’t want to hurt the family you’d already hurt so much. Especially when you got away with it the first time.” She wagged a finger at me, as if she were admonishing a naughty toddler.

  I narrowed my eyes. “Well, you misjudged that too. My mom covered it up so well that I didn’t even remember what I did to Chloe until this year, when Logan told me.”

  Liz’s eyes widened. “Logan knows you hit her?”

  “Yes. Why do you think he used to hate me so much?”

  “Hm. Well, that explains that,” she said. “I always wondered why he seemed to despise you. It really threw a spanner in the works, because in order for you to manipulate him, I needed you two to get along.”

  “Yeah, I figured,” I muttered.

  “Why did you two make up, anyway?”

  “I told him I didn’t mean to hit her. That it was an accident, and I was sorry. He accepted it.”

  “How sweet,” Liz said, voice dripping with sarcasm. She glanced at her watch. “Have I answered all of your questions now?”

  “No.”

  She waved a hand. “Well, hurry up. We don’t have all night.”

  “I want to know why I was tapped to join the Order. Did you know what I’d say in my confession during the pledge period? Did you want to record it and leak it to make my mom look even more guilty over the Rutherford scandal?”

  Liz shook her head. “No. We wanted you as a member because of your last name and the connections that come with it,” she said. “Even with your mother’s scandal, that name will always open doors. After all, Quinn isn’t a real Rhoades. She just married into the family. She’ll always be Quinn Mitchell from South Dakota at heart.”

  “So you had no idea what my confession would be?”

  “No. I couldn’t believe it when I heard it, though. It was perfect. It helped us implicate your mother even further.”

  “I know. I wish I never said it.”

  “Oh, well. Water under the bridge now,” Liz replied, scratching her chin. “You know… you really should’ve listened to Logan.”

  “About what?”

  “I overheard your conversation with him a few weeks ago, when Chuck and I decided to bring you coffee. You were asking him to help you look into the Order. He said no, of course, and he was so concerned about you afterward that he requested a meeting with me—as Q—to demand that I let it go and leave you alone. It was very noble.” She paused and arched one eyebrow. “I thought that would be enough to stop you from looking into us and betraying us, but you just couldn’t help yourself, could you? You kept digging, and you told Jamie right to his face that you were doing it. Very fortunate for us. Otherwise we might not have realized how much you knew until it was too late.”

  I sighed. “I thought I could trust Jamie. I was wrong.”

  “Yes, you were. Really, though, if you’d left it all alone, we wouldn’t have to deal with you like this,” Liz said, gesturing around the little room. “You would’ve lived a long and happy life with Logan. Also, you would’ve become First Lady one day, when we finally installed him as the president. But you chose to throw it all away and cause trouble with the Order, all because you couldn’t keep your nose in your own business.”

  “Right,” I muttered.

  She tilted her head to one side. “Out of interest, how did you find out that the Order leader was a woman? No one else has ever figured that out on their own.”

  I swallowed hard. I didn’t want to tell her that I knew because Logan took her straw from that meeting in the tunnels and had it tested in a lab. If I did, she’d finally realize he was asking just as many questions about the Order as me.

  “Honestly, it was just a lucky guess,” I finally said, lifting my shoulders in a half-hearted shrug. “I thought my mother was Q, and she’s a woman, so… yeah. That’s basically it.”

  Liz snorted with amusement. “Quinn Rhoades as Q. What a ridiculous theory.”

  “I realize that now.” I sighed and looked away. “What are you going to tell her and Logan about my sudden disappearance, anyway? I assume you’ve got a plan for that.”

  “Yes. That’s actually part of the reason I’m here tonight,” Liz said, abruptly standing up. She crossed the room and knelt down by the big black case. “The story is that you and some friends decided to take an impromptu yachting vacation in the Caribbean. You were so overwhelmed with everything that’s happened lately that you decided to leave without giving any notice. Understandable, of course. You’ve been through so much.”

  “Let me guess. This imaginary yacht is going to capsize during a mysterious storm?”

  She smiled. “Close. You’re going to be swept off the deck by a freak wave while sunbathing. A terrible but unavoidable tragedy. Your Secret Service detail and your friends Kate and Marissa will be there to confirm the heartbreaking turn of events with the Coast Guard when they arrive. A search will ensue, but your body won’t be found. It’s an unfortunate but common occurrence with people lost at sea.”

  I curled my hands into fists. “You got Kate and Marissa to go along with this?”

  “Yes, of course. I had to make the story seem legitimate, didn’t I?” Liz said. “My associates paid the two of them a visit today. Made them an offer they couldn’t refuse. Now they’re on their way down to Miami with the Secret Service guys to make it all look real.”

  I gritted my teeth. I knew Kate and Mar
issa could be rude, shallow, and even downright nasty on occasion, but I never thought they’d go this far. I never thought they’d accept money or some other form of reward in return for lying about my death.

  “Anyway,” Liz went on, retrieving a cell phone from the side of the case. “I need you to make a couple of audio recordings for me.”

  “For what?”

  “They’re for Logan and your mother, to confirm your impulsive decision to take a vacation,” she replied with a sweet smile. “I’ll leave them on their phones as voicemails.”

  My shoulders sagged. “Please don’t make me do this,” I said in a low voice. “I don’t want my last words to Logan to be a lie.”

  She stood up straight and held the phone out, one finger hovering over a red ‘record’ button on the screen. “You have to do this, Willow,” she said calmly. “You can be a good girl and do it right now, or I can ask Jamie to take you downstairs again. I’m sure that will convince you.”

  I averted my gaze and took a deep breath as something occurred to me. Not everything in my final message to Logan had to be a lie.

  “Fine,” I muttered. “I’ll do it.”

  “Good. Make yourself sound breezy and casual, like you’re really heading off on a much-needed vacation. Oh, and make sure you apologize for running off the other night.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Liz hit record and held the phone closer to my mouth.

  “Hey, Logan,” I began, affecting an airy tone. “It’s me. I’m sorry for ditching you at the party the other night. I was in a really bad mood, but that’s no excuse.” I paused for a second and swallowed thickly. “Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that I’ve decided to take some time off from everything. I’m heading down to Miami with Kate and Marissa, and we’re going to sail down to the Caribbean to escape this godawful winter. I’ll try calling again later, okay? Or you can call me back. Talk soon. I love you.”

  Liz hit the stop button on the recording app and smiled widely. “That was perfect.”

  I bit my bottom lip and stared down at the floor, wishing I was able to tell Logan that I loved him in person. At least I’d been given an opportunity to say it in some way, though.

  At least he’d finally know.

  “Okay, we’ll make one for your mother now,” Liz said, holding the phone out to me again.

  When that was done, she put the phone down and unzipped the main part of the black case. “Change into this, please,” she said, pulling out a white dress and tossing it over to me.

  “Why?”

  “Some of the potential buyers want to see proof that we actually have the American president’s daughter here at the mansion,” she replied. “We need to make a video to provide that proof.”

  With a heavy sigh, I stepped into the tiny bathroom and slipped into the silky dress. When I returned to the main room, Liz was setting up a video camera on a black tripod at the end of the bed. An array of makeup and hair products were scattered on the nightstand.

  “Brush your hair and fix your face while I finish doing this,” Liz said, glancing up at me.

  I silently obeyed. When she was satisfied with my appearance, she reached into another pocket of the case on the floor and yanked out a newspaper.

  “This is for you to hold up as proof of today’s date at the beginning of the video,” she said, handing it to me. She briefly knelt back down to pull out a smaller piece of paper. “And this is your script. Memorize it.”

  My eyes misted over as I read the script. It was basically my name, today’s date, and a short statement detailing my subservience to the Order and my availability for sale.

  I didn’t want to say any of it, but I didn’t have much of a choice. If I refused, Liz would get Jamie to torture me until I relented.

  “Ready?” she asked, lifting her brows behind the tripod.

  I nodded gloomily and picked up the newspaper. “Yes.”

  “Good.” Her deep pink lips curled in a mocking sneer. “Lights, camera, action…”

  6

  Logan

  My car rolled to a stop before the ten-foot-high electrified fence in front of me. A balding guard slapped his hand on the roof. “ID?”

  I handed him my Caldwell credentials and driver’s license. He ran it all through a computerized scanner and let out a grunt. “Haven’t seen any of you Caldwell guys around here for a while. You consulting again?”

  I gave him a polite smile. “Something like that. I can’t give you any details, though.”

  “Of course.” He nodded and typed something on his keyboard. “Have a good day, Mr. Thorne.”

  The gate swung open. I followed the road to the final external checkpoint, where a young guard with an automatic weapon and an attack dog glanced at my license before waving me through.

  I parked and made my way across the terrace to the main building. Two internal checkpoints with retinal scanners stood in my way, and when I made it through, I was subjected to lengthy pat-downs from the guards. I gritted my teeth and silently put up with all of it.

  I had to. This was my last resort.

  For three days, I’d done everything I could to find Willow. Used every connection I had. It didn’t help. I was no closer to tracking her down—or this mysterious T person—than I was when I first realized she was missing.

  I knew she was still alive (for now, at least) because I’d received a voicemail message from her when I woke up yesterday morning, telling me the requisite ‘yachting with friends’ story. I could tell she was frightened by the slight tremor in her voice, but the message made my heart soar all the same.

  I replayed it over and over, hoping she left some sort of hint in it, but the only part that stood out was the ending. I love you. It was the first and only time she’d ever said those words to me.

  I needed to find her and say them back to her. Needed to get her the hell away from the Order before it was too—

  No. I couldn’t think about that. Not right now. I wouldn’t be too late to rescue her. I still had one more person left on my list. One more guy who might be able to help.

  I just had to hope I was right about him.

  I strode through a windowless tunnel with gray walls and wound up at yet another checkpoint with a large sign on the left. National Security Agency (NSA) – Data Acquisition Facility. Authorized Personnel Only.

  I flashed my ID at the booth. The armed guard checked something on his computer and looked back at me. “You don’t have an appointment with anyone in this wing, Mr. Thorne.”

  “I know. I just need to check a few things with an analyst I collaborated with on my agency’s last project, so I thought it would be okay. I’ve been here before.”

  He nodded. “I can see that. Caldwell guy, huh?”

  “Yup.”

  “Who is it you need to see?”

  “Rowan Harris.”

  The guard typed something on his keyboard before squinting at the screen. “Does he know you’re coming?”

  “No, but he knows me.”

  He looked at his watch, let out a sigh, and waved one hand. “All right. Go ahead. But make an appointment next time.”

  “Got it.” I gave him a tight smile. “Which way is his office again?”

  “Go down that hall,” he replied, pointing to the right. “Then make a left before the elevator bank. The doors have nameplates on them, so you should find it easily enough.”

  I thanked him and made my way down the hall. When I reached Rowan’s door, I knocked three times and then stood back to wait.

  He opened the door a crack and peered out at me. “I honestly thought the guard was joking when he called to say that you were on your way up,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’ve got a problem, and you might be the only person who can help me with it,” I said, kicking one foot out at the bottom of the door so he couldn’t shut it on me.

  “What sort of problem?”

  “It’s about Willow.”
>
  His upper lip curled with contempt. “What on earth makes you think I’d want to help you with Willow?”

  My brows furrowed. “I thought the fact that you’ve loved her since we were kids might get my foot in the door.”

  He bristled. “Willow is like a sister to me. That’s all.”

  “Whatever. It’s not relevant. I just need your help with her. Please.”

  Rowan let out a short, frustrated sigh and scrubbed a hand across his face. “Look, Logan, I want to be clear about this. I know I follow Willow around at parties and stick to her like glue, but that doesn’t mean I want her. She’s just one of the only people who’s ever listened to me and treated me like I’m actually a human being. I can’t say the same for you, though, so I’m sorry, but I’m not particularly interested in getting involved in whatever relationship drama you’re having with her.”

  I held up a palm. “Look, I get it. I’m an asshole, and you hate me. But you care about Willow, right?”

  “Of course.”

  “Well, this is serious. It’s not just some dumb relationship drama. She’s gone missing.”

  He raised one eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

  “I’d rather not discuss the details out here in the hall,” I said, lowering my voice. “But I haven’t seen her in three days. She’s gone.”

  Rowan folded his arms. “Maybe she doesn’t want you to find her. I can’t say I’d blame her.”

  “It’s not like that. Trust me.”

  “Well, you work for a private intel firm. Why don’t you find her yourself? Or doesn’t Caldwell cover lover’s spats?”

  “For fuck’s sake, Rowan, this is serious!” I said, narrowing my eyes. “She didn’t just run off because we had a fight. She’s been kidnapped, and they might kill her.”

  His face paled slightly. “Wait… kidnapped? Are you serious?”

  “Yes. So are you going to help me or not?”

  He stepped aside to let me into his office. Then he shut and locked the door behind me. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I honestly thought you were being a dick and trying to go through Willow’s friends to find her after a stupid fight, or something like that.”