Broken Princess: Ruthless Rulers Book 3

by Hart, Stella

  “So you haven’t heard the tape that got released, then?”

  “What tape?”

  “It was leaked online this morning. Black box recording.”

  I raised a brow. “They already found the black box?”

  “Yup. They’ve had boats and divers out there all day,” Rowan said with an emphatic nod. “Anyway, you know how everyone was speculating that there was a bomb on board?”

  “Yeah.”

  “They’ve all changed their minds now. Listen to this.” He brought something up on the laptop and pressed enter, and an audio file began to play.

  ‘…. wrong fucking one! I’m going to set that fucking bastard on fire!’ a faint masculine voice was saying.

  My forehead creased. “What is that?”

  “It’s the Crown Prince raging on the plane about fifteen minutes before the incident,” Rowan replied. “The first half was cut off because he wasn’t close enough to the cockpit for the box to record him, but it’s pretty clear he was furious about something, and he wanted to set someone on fire as revenge.”

  “Okay. So?”

  “So everyone is speculating that it was an accident. They think he got mad, lit something up during his tantrum, and accidentally started a massive fire onboard.”

  I sighed and put my head in my hands again. “Why does it matter? The plane fucking exploded. That’s all we need to know.”

  Rowan lifted one palm. “Just hear me out. Please. I promise I’m going somewhere with this.”

  “Fine.”

  He pinched the bridge of his nose and leaned forward slightly. “Okay, so, despite the fire theory, I’m seeing a lot of online chatter about a possible shootdown.”

  “What?”

  “There’s evidence on the videos taken from the boats that the plane may have been taken down by a missile. An MBS2 surface-to-air missile, to be specific,” Rowan said, typing rapidly. An image of a weapon appeared on the screen. “Those missiles are bought by terrorist cells quite frequently, so everyone on the forums is speculating that one of them shot the plane down to kill Prince Darius. It’s not that surprising. A lot of people hate the Keshari royals.”

  I scrubbed a hand over my face and rose to my feet. “Look, I’m sorry, but I can’t do this,” I said. “I don’t give a fuck how or why the plane went down. It doesn’t change the fact that Willow is dead. It won’t bring her back.”

  “That’s the thing,” Rowan said, holding a palm up again. “This missile stuff… it all ties into my theory.”

  “What theory?”

  A gleam appeared in his eyes, and his lips curled up in a faint smile. “Logan, I think Willow is still alive.”

  13

  Logan

  My heartbeat thundered in my ears as I stared at Rowan, eyes wide. “What did you just say?”

  “I think Willow is alive.”

  I sat down again, every muscle turning rigid. “How?”

  “That’s what I’ve been trying to explain,” Rowan said. “It’s a long story, and you need to hear all of it to understand.”

  “Well, maybe lead with ‘Willow is alive’ next time,” I said, minutely shaking my head. “Jesus, man.”

  “Sorry,” he said, face reddening slightly. “Anyway, you know the missiles we were just talking about?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  He brought up a video on his laptop screen. “I know you don’t want to watch the plane exploding again, but you should,” he said, nodding at it. “Just so I can show you.”

  I leaned in close. “Fine.”

  “See that white flash before the plane actually blows up?” he asked. “It only lasts a fraction of a second, but it’s huge.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Watch it slowed down.” He leaned over the keyboard and typed again. “Focus right there.”

  I squinted at the screen to see a split-second of electric blue amongst all the bright white during the brief flash.

  “What is that?” I asked.

  “It’s a signature of the MBS2 missiles,” he said. “So I think these guys online are right—the plane was definitely brought down by an MBS2.”

  I nodded slowly. “Okay. And?”

  “Those missiles are pretty rare because they’re so expensive. They’re known to have been purchased by a few rebel groups and terrorist organizations over the last year, though. Most notably the HGI in Afghanistan, the CLF in Angola, the FIN in the Congo, and a small insurgent group in Myanmar.”

  “Right.”

  “So it’s most likely that one of them brought the plane down, right?”

  “I guess.”

  Rowan lifted a brow. “Thing is, that doesn’t make sense. The Keshari royals get along with the Angolans and Afghans, and they’ve never had any issues with the Congo or Myanmar either. So why would anyone from any of those places shoot down the Crown Prince’s plane?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe someone else bought one of those missiles recently.”

  A knowing smile turned up the corners of Rowan’s lips as he brought up a Wikipedia page for a multinational corporation called Halliwell. “You’ve heard of these guys, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  Halliwell was one of the largest oil field service companies, offering a wide range of products and services to oil and gas customers throughout the world. On top of that, several of their engineering subsidiaries created and sold military weapons and technology for the US government, along with their allies.

  One of the subsidiaries had been involved in numerous controversies over the years for allegedly selling weapons to terrorist groups that had specifically threatened the US before, including a couple of the groups Rowan had previously mentioned.

  “What about them?” I asked.

  “They manufacture MBS2 missiles,” he replied. “Anyway, guess whose family owns most of the corporation?”

  “No idea.”

  His lips flattened. “Jamie Torrance.”

  My brows shot up. “Really?”

  “Yup, and he’s basically your mom’s right hand man, isn’t he?”

  “I think so.”

  “Well, I think this is part of the reason why. Having someone like him around—with all those weapons and tech connections—is a smart idea for the leader of a secret society.”

  I furrowed my brows. “So what do you think happened? You think my mom and Jamie shot the plane down for some reason?”

  “Nope. I think Jamie’s gone rogue. Working for himself instead of serving Q.”

  “Why?”

  Rowan leaned forward, twisting his thumbs on the desk. “Remember how I told you that I’ve always thought he has a bit of an obsession with Willow?”

  “Yes.”

  “I think he might’ve decided to steal her for himself. Probably couldn’t stand the thought of putting her on a jet with the Keshari prince, knowing he’d never see her again.”

  I frowned. “There’s no way he’d get away with that. My mom would kill him.”

  “Only if she found out,” he said, leaning back. “But she’s getting a little rusty lately, and she isn’t ten steps ahead of everyone anymore. I mean, we’re onto her, and she has absolutely no idea.”

  “True,” I said, nodding slowly. “So what do you think Jamie did?”

  “I think your mom probably gave him the responsibility of getting Willow ready for transport with the prince after the auction finished. He could’ve convinced everyone that she needed to be sedated, blindfolded, or stuffed into a sack, just to avoid any trouble, and then he could’ve hidden her somewhere. Then he could’ve brought out another girl from the mansion, one who looks similar to Willow. Tall, reddish hair, pale skin. She would’ve been sedated and partially-hidden with a blindfold as well.”

  I cocked my head to the side. “You think he put the wrong girl on the prince’s plane and pretended it was her?”

  “I think so. That would explain why the prince was screaming about ‘the wrong fucking one’ not long before th
e plane blew up. He probably went to wake Willow up and realized it wasn’t her,” Rowan replied. “Jamie knew that would happen at some point, obviously, but he couldn’t let anyone find out what he’d done, because he’d be totally screwed if that happened.”

  I set my jaw. “So you think he used his connections to take the plane down with a missile as soon as he possibly could, and he made it look like a terrorist attack or an assassination.”

  “Yes. Everyone involved in the auction—like your mom—would assume Willow was on that plane with the prince. Because it exploded, there’s no bodies to be found, so there’s no real way to prove she wasn’t on it.”

  “That’s true.” My shoulders sagged slightly. “Wait, no… I’m pretty sure my mom would notice if another girl from the mansion went missing. Jamie wouldn’t be that stupid, would he?”

  “He’s a smart guy. He’d be able to figure out a way to explain her disappearance.”

  My heart began to race again. “So you really think this could be real?” I asked. “You think Jamie could’ve actually taken Willow behind my mom’s back without getting caught?”

  “Yes. I think he’s operating all on his own, just so he can have her.”

  “Jesus. If it’s true, then it’s fucking horrible for that poor girl,” I muttered, shaking my head.

  “You mean the one Jamie put on the plane with the prince?”

  “Yeah.”

  Rowan nodded slowly. “It’s awful, I know. But if it’s true, it means Willow is still alive. That’s what we need to focus on.”

  My forehead creased. “How do we know this isn’t wishful thinking?” I asked. “We both love her. We both want her alive. So what if we’re just grasping at straws? What if a rebel group actually took the plane down after all, and Jamie had nothing to do with it? It wouldn’t be that weird, because a lot of people hated Prince Darius.”

  “I considered that,” Rowan said. “So I explored other angles.”

  “Such as?”

  “You know how all flights and their manifests have to be registered? Even the small private ones.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’ve been looking into every single flight that left the Lilith Hall area last night. There were a lot, for obvious reasons, but one in particular stood out. A plane owned by Jamie Torrance took off somewhere around one in the morning with two passengers listed on the manifest.”

  “Names?”

  “Jamie Torrance and Evelyn Mitchell.”

  My forehead wrinkled. “Evelyn Mitchell?”

  “Evelyn is Willow’s middle name, isn’t it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Mitchell was her mother’s last name before she married Stephen Rhoades. I think Jamie made up that fake name for her when he realized he had to include a passenger name on the manifest, or else the flight wouldn’t have been cleared for takeoff.”

  “Holy shit.” A flush of adrenaline shot through my veins. “So Willow might actually be alive.”

  Rowan nodded. “I know there’s a chance I’m wrong about everything, but I really don’t think I am. I’m pretty sure she’s out there with Jamie.”

  “I think you’re right,” I replied, excitement spiking my pulse all over again. “Fuck, man, what would I do without you?”

  He gave me an awkward smile and shrugged. “I’m sure you would’ve found her on your own eventually. You care about her more than anyone.”

  “Maybe, but you deserve all the credit for this,” I said, clapping one hand on his shoulder. “Thanks, man.”

  “It’s fine. I’m glad to help,” he said, still looking slightly embarrassed. “I just wish I could help more.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean Jamie’s turned into a ghost after that flight landed at his family’s summer place in New Hampshire. He’s not there, which means Willow isn’t either, and I have no idea where to start looking. His phone has become untraceable, too,” he said. His brows suddenly dipped in a frown. “Wait, why are you smiling?”

  I hadn’t even realized I was doing it until he mentioned it, but it made sense. Hope was washing over me now, pushing my fear, sorrow and anger into the deepest corners of my mind, and all I wanted to do was smile until my lips went numb.

  “Because it doesn’t matter where she is,” I said. “All that matters is that she’s still alive, and we’re gonna go and find her…”

  14

  Willow

  I was floating up in the night air, right on top of a fluffy cloud. Somehow I’d fallen out of the plane. Even though I expected everything to be cold and terrifying, I felt warm and safe. Happy to rest on my big, soft cloud.

  My eyes snapped open all of a sudden, and my lashes fluttered wildly as I took in my surroundings. The fluffy cloud was actually an enormous bed with heavenly-soft sheets and blankets, and the warm air I felt was piping out at me from a heating vent in the ceiling. A crystal chandelier hung directly above my head, and on my left, light streamed through the cracks in a set of crimson curtains with gold threading.

  This had to be my room at the Keshari palace.

  I frowned and sat up, rubbing my head as I struggled to recall how I got here. The last thing I remembered was briefly nodding off on the plane again before waking up to the stinging sensation of yet another needle being jammed in my neck. I didn’t see who did it, but I could only assume it was the prince or one of his lackeys.

  After that, everything was a blank.

  I stretched my aching limbs and got up to take a better look around the room. The place looked like it belonged in a magazine with its antique furniture, wood-paneled walls, carved moldings and rich decoration. Tall shelves lined one wall, stacked with books of all genres, and a hardwood door with a golden handle led into a spacious bathroom with textured black marble tiles.

  I’d initially assumed the prince would throw me in some sort of dungeon the second we arrived on Keshari soil, so these luxurious surroundings came as a great surprise to me. Perhaps he didn’t intend to treat me too badly after all.

  Don’t be delusional, a little voice in the back of my mind immediately told me. The man paid almost a hundred million dollars for me, purely because I was the American president’s daughter. He wanted to destroy me, and he wasn’t going to show me an ounce of kindness. This beautiful suite was probably just a temporary measure until my dungeon in the depths of the desert palace was ready.

  A sob threatened to rip through me, but I managed to tamp it down. There was no use crying now. What was done was done. I was a captive and I would remain that way for the rest of my life, however short that may be.

  My shoulders sagged, and I stared at my reflection in the bathroom mirror as I ran my hands over the pink and white floral-patterned dress I’d woken up in. A design like this would usually make a woman look younger, but I looked older instead. It was probably the haunted look in my eyes that did it; the knowledge of what had already been done to me and what would be done to me in the future.

  Swallowing thickly, I returned to the bedroom and headed for the floor-to-ceiling window. The curtains drew back easily enough, and there were no bars or locks preventing me from opening the window up to the balcony beyond. That was surprising, but nowhere near as shocking as the view.

  I expected to see clear blue skies, a courtyard filled with palm trees, the white walls and domed roofing of the Keshari palace, and rolling yellow sand dunes in the distance. Instead, the sky was gray and blustery, and all that lay beyond the balcony was a small grove of pine trees and a snow-flecked stretch of grass and dirt leading to the edge of what was either the ocean or an enormous lake.

  “What the hell?” I muttered, brows knitting as I took in the view.

  “Do you like it?”

  I whirled around at the sound of the voice, and my eyes widened as I spotted Jamie Torrance standing by the door on the other side of the room.

  “What’s happening?” I asked, shrinking away as he approached. “Where’s the prince?”

 
Jamie smiled. “He ended up leaving with another girl.”

  “What?” I slowly shook my head. “That doesn’t make sense. He paid so much for me. Why would he leave me behind?”

  “Let’s just say I have my ways of convincing people.”

  He was only a few feet away from me now. I ducked around him and ran back to the bed, as if the thick blankets and pillows could actually protect me. He let out a throaty chuckle and followed me.

  “You didn’t answer my question,” he said, taking a seat on the end of the bed. “Do you like your new room?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?” he asked, lifting a brow. “I thought you’d love it. Nice decorations, plenty of books, waterfront views… what’s the problem?”

  I folded my arms. “The problem is that I don’t belong here with you,” I hissed.

  “So you’d rather be with the prince?”

  “No! I want to go home.”

  Jamie let out a short, frustrated sigh. “We both know that’s never going to happen, so you might as well get used to this place.”

  “Where are we?”

  He smiled again. “You don’t need to know that. All you need to know is that there’s no escape. You’re mine now.”

  “So you convinced the prince to sell me to you?”

  “No, I took you from him.”

  “You took me? Just like that?”

  “Yes. It took some quick and dirty planning, but it all worked out, didn’t it?”

  I narrowed my eyes and shook my head. “You’re never going to get away with this.”

  “I will.”

  “No way. The prince will come after you, and so will Liz and the rest of her minions when she realizes you betrayed her and screwed over one of her highest-paying clients. Whoever finds you first will kill you.”

  “No one is coming after us, Willow. No one even knows you’re here with me.”

  “They might not know exactly where you’ve brought me, but they still know I’m out here somewhere,” I said through gritted teeth.