The Prince and the Player

by Tia Louise

  “You’re planning to assassinate the crown prince.” It isn’t a question. It isn’t even as shocked as it should be.

  “Such an ugly word.” Wade’s slimy voice makes my skin crawl. “I’m merely observing it’s a difficult track. It involves much braking and rapid acceleration. A hairpin turn is positioned at the top of a high cliff, and at one point, the drivers are plunged into almost total darkness.”

  “The tunnel,” Reggie says quietly.

  “Fatal crashes occur all the time in motorsport. It would be a shame if your future king’s car failed. If he slammed into the wall and joined their ranks.”

  Closing my mouth, I swallow, trying to restart my breathing. I’ve got to get out of here. I’ve got to get back across the hall, to our room and tell Ava. She’s got to warn Rowan… I start to move just as the men resume speaking.

  “It won’t work,” Reggie says, and I stop to listen.

  “Why the devil not?”

  “MacCallam. He’s the presumptive heir. If anything happens to Rowan, he becomes the crown prince, and he’ll continue his brother’s legacy.”

  “You disappoint me, Reginald,” I hear him moving. “You think my plan doesn’t include MacCallam?”

  I’m frozen in place. Not Cal…

  Reggie hesitates a moment. “What have you planned?”

  More movement. “As captain of the pit crew, Cal would know if the car had problems. He would be in charge of checking it out, top to bottom… Unless he had ambitions of his own. Unless he saw an opportunity to seize power.”

  Reggie makes a grunting sound. “Everyone knows how close the brothers are. No one will believe Cal would intentionally hurt Rowan.”

  My knuckles are white on the kitchen counter. I’m holding on, bracing myself against what they might say next.

  “They don’t have to believe it. They need only look at the evidence.”

  I push off the counter and start for the door, but just as I’m moving, my phone chirps loudly with a text.

  “Who’s there?” Reggie shouts, and I hear them both heading my way fast.

  My heart is flying, and I run around the corner, pushing off the wall as I skid to a stop at the door. Jerking the handle down, I’m pulling it toward me when it flies from my hand with a SLAM!

  “What have we here?” Wade’s voice is a sinister smile. He grabs my shoulder in an iron grip and slams my back against the wall, forcing an Oof! from my mouth. “What the fuck are you doing sneaking around our rooms?”

  It takes me a moment to catch my breath. “I wasn’t—” My text tone sounds again, and Wade’s eyes drop to my waist.

  “Take her phone,” he says to Reggie.

  “Zelda,” Reggie says, taking my phone from my pocket. “You shouldn’t have come here.”

  “Ah, Miss Wilder,” Wade Paxton smiles, and I recognize the evil glint in his eyes. I’ve seen it before in our trashy foster “father,” although I never called him that. “Do you know who I am?”

  He has greasy black hair and a little mustache, and he’s wearing a suit. On the pocket is an insignia. Lifting his lapel, he holds it closer for me to see.

  “Wade Paxton,” I say quickly.

  “Correct. Prime Minister of Totrington.” His painful grip moves to my upper arm, and he lifts me, half-dragging, half-pushing me into the living room of Reggie’s suite. “You’ve been spying on classified state secrets. Do you know what we do with spies, Miss Wilder?”

  “You don’t have to kill me,” I say fast. I might be out of my league with these guys, but I grew up talking my way out of trouble. “I won’t tell anyone. I’ll leave here and go back to Miami.”

  “You must think I’m a fool.” He looks to my former associate. “Reggie, who is that text from?”

  Reggie turns my phone over and touches the button. “Playboy prince.” My heart plunges to my feet, and his blue eyes meet mine. “I’m going to assume that’s MacCallam. It says, ‘Are you wearing panties.’”

  My eyes close, and any plans I had to convince them I wouldn’t tell Cal are shot to hell now. If I were looking for something to pin on Reggie, I sure as hell found it. Too bad, it might cost me my life.

  “She isn’t leaving this room.” Wade has my arm again, and he drags me to the wet bar, opening and shutting drawers quickly.

  My mouth is dry, I’m shaking, but I’ve got to try. “I’m leaving him. I was coming here to tell Reggie. I’m going back to Miami. Cal doesn’t know.”

  “Here.” Wade pulls out a knife. “Do you have any rope, Reginald?”

  “Stop this, Paxton,” Reggie reclines on the sofa, a bored look on his face. “We’re not killing her. Who will clean up the mess?”

  Wade’s sinister eyes are calculating. “What do you suggest?”

  “Lock her in the bedroom until we’ve finished our business here then arrange for her disposal afterwards.”

  “Reggie,” I whisper. “Just let me take Ava and go. I won’t get in your way. You know I won’t.”

  “I don’t know anything now that you’re romantically involved.”

  “I’m not romantically involved!” I cry, my voice cracking. “I’m a professional, Reggie. Remember the casino?”

  “I thought you were a professional. Sadly I was mistaken.” He rises from the couch, and walks toward the bedroom. Wade jerks my arm, pushing me after him.

  “Very convenient, you providing your phone.”

  I watch as he begins texting. “What are you doing? Who are you texting?” Panic floods my veins.

  “Message to Ava: Ran out to meet Cal. See you after the race. Zee.” He glances toward Wade. “You said your plan is in motion. I presume it includes men stationed along the course?”

  “On the pit crew, along the course,” Wade says. “I’ve covered every possible outcome.”

  My eyes fly back and forth between them. I’m having difficulty breathing. “What will you do?”

  Reggie steps directly in front of me, pushing my nose almost to his chest. “I might not trust you, but I know your Achilles heel. You’ll cooperate—if only to protect your sister’s life.”

  Jerking away from Wade, I swing my arm at Reggie’s face. “You will not hurt Ava!”

  He dodges easily, shoving me aside. “I will kill your beautiful sister if you do anything to interfere with our plans.”

  Stepping back, I take a breath. He’s right about one thing—no matter what I have to do, I won’t let him hurt Ava.

  “You have a deal. I won’t say a word.”

  I start for the door, and Wade Paxton actually laughs. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  Pausing, I look from him to Reggie. “I just gave you my word—”

  “Whatever deal you make with Sir Winchester, it will begin after the race tomorrow. Not before.”

  My arm is back in his iron grip, and he drags me to the bedroom, shoving me inside. I slump against the wall as he walks around the room. He goes to the balcony door and then returns to where I’m doing my best to stay out of his way. He goes in the bathroom for a moment then returns with his hands on his hips.

  “This won’t work,” he snaps. “Too many ways she can escape.”

  “She can’t go through the lobby,” Reggie argues. “The paparazzi are everywhere. She’s a top story now that she’s been seen with the prince numerous times.”

  The two men look at me again. Wade’s eyes are glittering and cold, and I’m convinced he’d just as soon kill me. Reggie looks more impatient. My mind is racing.

  “I can give you money. I’ll give back all the money—”

  “You stupid bitch, I bankrolled this entire venture.” Wade’s lip curls. “I own you.”

  Reggie walks through the suite again, looking around. “Every goddamn room has a window.”

  “Put her in the bathroom,” Wade says. “I’ll walk down to the corner and purchase rope, duct tape, and a bicycle chain to tie her hands and lock her in.”

  Reggie nods. “Get going. I’ll guard her
here.”

  The other man starts for the door, but then walks back to me. “Just in case you’re thinking of trying to double-cross me.”

  With a loud SMACK! he whips his meaty palm across my face. Light explodes behind my eyes, and it takes me a moment to realize I’m on the floor, on my hands and knees. Pain radiates through my cheek, and my mouth is full of the thick, coppery taste of blood.

  “You’re determined to leave evidence behind,” Reggie says, pushing a cloth handkerchief to me.

  Wade bends down and grabs a handful of my hair right at the top of my head. He jerks my neck back, forcing me to look at him. I struggle not to cry out, but the pain makes it difficult.

  “I’m not impressed by you, Zelda Wilder. I don’t value your life over our plans for Monagasco. Do you understand?” He’s so close, little drops of spit hit my face. “If it weren’t for Reggie, you’d already be dead.”

  Blinking fast, I struggle to hold it together as I glare back at his hateful eyes.

  “One sneaky trick. One attempt to escape, and I won’t hesitate.” He shoves my head away, and I sprawl onto the floor again.

  His shoes squeak on the marble as he goes to the door. It closes with a slam, and he’s gone, leaving only Reggie and me.

  “Why are you here, Zelda? I told you to wait until I came for you.”

  “Let me go, Reggie.” My heart aches and my swollen lip distorts my words. “It’s not too late to change this.”

  “What’s happening now goes way beyond what we discussed in Miami.”

  “How can you do this?” My voice cracks. “They’re your nephews. Your family!” All I can think of is protecting Ava, saving Cal, saving Rowan.

  His expression becomes closed. “In matters of state, family is sometimes a casualty.”

  “So you did help kill the king! Rowan was right!”

  Clearing his throat, he walks to the wet bar, and I watch as he takes a handful of ice and puts it in a cloth napkin. “Philip was overweight. He had a short temper and high blood pressure. I can’t be held responsible for his heart attack.”

  He hands me the makeshift ice pack, and I hold it to my throbbing cheek. “You stood by and let it happen. It’s the same as helping.”

  He walks to the large glass doors overlooking the Mediterranean. “I like you Zelda. I’ll do what I can to protect you, but if you cross Wade Paxton, I can’t stop the consequences. He is not someone you want to play games with.”

  The door opens, and Wade returns. The only thing in his hand is a rope. “Sold out of duct tape,” he growls as he passes, grabbing my forearm so hard, I stumble.

  He drags me to the bathroom and shoves me inside. His hand goes to his pocket, and I watch as he pulls out a long knife. My throat closes.

  “You see this?” His blue eyes slice into mine, and fear clenches my chest.

  I don’t answer and he charges me, pushing me all the way until my back slams against the wall. My head aches from hitting the plaster, and I struggle to fight back my tears. I can’t appear weak. I have to be strong.

  His face is right in mine, and I try to turn to avoid his sour onion breath. “Make any noise, scream…” His hand clamps around my wrist so hard, I’m afraid the bones will break.

  Jerking my arm, he slams my palm flat on the granite countertop. I can’t help a scream. My insides are shaking, and I struggle to get away.

  “I’ll start with the smallest one.” The knife presses hard against the knuckle of my pinkie finger, breaking the skin as searing pain shoots through my hand.

  “NO!” I shout, twisting and dropping to my knees. “DON’T!”

  “SHUT UP!” He growls, kicking me in the stomach.

  “Oh, god…” I’m gulping for air as pain cramps my midsection. Tears blur my vision. A roaring noise is in my ears, and I’m afraid I’ll pass out. “Please… no.”

  “Wade!” Reggie’s voice cuts through the din. “Think about what you’re doing. This room is in my name. I will not be implicated in a blood bath!”

  Wade pauses, looking down at me. The pressure of the knife grows stronger against my knuckle, and I cry louder. I can’t stop shaking. My nose is hot. Snot is on my battered lip, and his grip is a shackle around my wrist. I’m on the floor, trying to pull away.

  At once he releases me, and I fall to the hard marble. A startled cry slips from my lips. My knuckle is bloody, and I shove both hands under my arms, pushing with my heels until my back is against the wall. My knees are bent for protection.

  Wade leans down, pointing the sharp knife at my nose. “I will cut them off, one by one. Then I will move to your toes. I’ll take off your ears, followed by the tip of your nose. Your tongue…”

  My stomach heaves, and I’m afraid I’ll vomit.

  “Good god, we get the point,” Reggie says.

  I press my eyes against the tops of my knees. I don’t want to see his horrible face anymore. Everyone I know and love is in danger, and I’ve never been so afraid. I have no idea what I’m going to do. I only know I have to do something.

  “She’ll stay quiet,” Reggie says in an eerily calm voice. “She won’t jeopardize her sister.”

  “Yes,” Wade’s eyes flicker with sinister intent. “Your sister.”

  Rage and panic clash in my chest. “Don’t hurt her.” It’s all I can manage to say.

  They pause only a moment, staring down at me, before they leave. The double-doors of the bathroom slam, and I hear the rope being tied around the handles. Despair fills my chest as the tears start to fall. I’ve got to get out of here. I’ve got to get to Ava.

  Sabotage

  Rowan

  Race day dawns hot and bright. My spirits dim slightly as I look up at the cloudless sky.

  “It would have been better if it were overcast,” Cal says, reading my mind.

  We’re walking quickly to the track, and I’m going over the course, the system I’ve worked out for managing the curves, the braking, the slowing, and the flying into the straights full-throttle.

  “The tunnel will be the hardest,” I agree, thinking of the plunge into darkness followed by the immediate blinding white light.

  “You’re moving so fast at that point. Follow your instincts.”

  As we pass the other racers, we nod, shake hands with some. All are tense and jumpy. In my chest is a mixture of excitement and apprehension. Anything can happen on the track.

  Fayed’s team is the last group we encounter, and he steps forward grinning. “Good luck today, my friend!” He shakes my hand vigorously. “It was a lucky break getting pole position.”

  Our times around the track were identical, but officials gave him the coveted spot owing to his years on the circuit.

  “Apparently there’s an advantage to doing nothing but racing all the time,” Cal says, crossing his arms.

  “Don’t be bitter, my friend Cal,” Fayed slaps my brother’s arm. “It will even out on the track.”

  My brow is lowered, but I give him a nod. “Have a good race.”

  A few more paces, and we’re at my car. Cal is at my side reassuring me. “I’ve personally gone over everything. The car is in peak performance. It’s all up to you now.”

  Reaching in my pocket, I close my hand around the gold bracelet Ava gave me. I haven’t heard from her since Friday, and while we discussed this short separation, I long to hear her voice. She didn’t return my call last night.

  “Have you talked to Zelda today?” His expression changes only briefly, but it’s enough to put me on edge. “What is it?”

  “I don’t know.” He clears his throat. “We’ve been so slammed with meetings and race prep, I haven’t been able to call her. She’s not answering my texts.”

  My throat tightens. Here we are, a half-hour before the race begins, and I can’t find Ava. Cal hasn’t spoken to Zee. If they left the country…

  I’ll just fucking go after her.

  “See what you can find out,” I say, my voice rough as I pull on my helmet. It’s time
for our reconnaissance lap.

  Cal’s strong hand closes over my shoulder; his hazel eyes flash as he shouts over the noise of the engines. “Drive like you’ve been doing the last few weeks, and we’ll worry about the rest later.”

  Nodding, I give him the thumbs up and pull onto the track. One by one, we’ll make a slow lap around the course, stopping at our place on the grid. Fayed is in the lead, but I’m right behind him.

  As we cover the course, my mind is on Ava. The weekend so far has been a success. The queen has agreed to support my deal, and every Member of Parliament I’ve spoken to has come onboard. Only two things are left—winning the race and Ava.

  My focus sharpens as we reach the first hairpin, and my senses lock onto the car. The steering is sensitive to any movement, and in all my practices, I’ve felt immediate response. Taking the sharp corner, I notice a lag. It’s the right front wheel.

  Now I’m anxious to get back to the pit. Cal said he checked everything, but either a brace has come loose or an arm is failing.

  We’re coming down the final straight right into the tunnel, and all at once, I’m plunged into darkness. Blinking fast, I try to adjust my eyes. I hold the steering wheel steady, feeling the lag in that fucking right front, when just as fast, white light dazzles my eyes. Hold steady.

  One final hairpin on the cliff above the ocean. I’m not pushing like I normally do for fear that tire will fly off into my windshield or one of my competitors’. This isn’t happening right now. We slow into the grid, and I’m out of the cockpit in seconds waving for Cal.

  Instantly, he’s running across the track, the team right behind him. “What’s wrong?”

  “Right front.” I’m breathing hard. “It’s lagging, pulling to the center.”

  A crewmember I don’t recognize dives under the chassis screwdriver in hand. I frown and look to my brother.

  “Came over from Heinrick’s team. Highly recommended.” I nod, adjusting the tear offs on my visor.

  “Stripped lug nut,” the man says, climbing out and tossing up the silver piece as he runs for the pit. “Be right back.”

  We’ve got less than ten minutes. Fayed glances back to me, his brow lined. I give him the thumbs up as our newest crewmember finishes his work.