by C. J. Miller
“I learned how the Ghost hires his assassins and how he contacts them. I thought perhaps he moved around. A source tells me he operates out of Valencia.”
Demetrius went to his safe and opened it again. He pushed a button and the safe rotated, the contents shifting to the right. He withdrew a folder and brought it to her. “This is the file I have on the Ghost. You are welcome to read it, but it can’t leave this room.”
Iliana accepted the folder and started reading.
“I will warn you that it gets graphic on page seven. Skip over the details of what he does to his targets. You’ll have nightmares.”
That he trusted her to read confidential documents was progress. As she read, she found it so normal to be with Demetrius in his office. He was working. She was reading and watching him. It was comfortable between them.
He was trying. It was a good sign and one she desperately needed.
* * *
Demetrius was working from the capitol building in Daedalus when Stella strolled into his office without knocking. She sat across from him. She was still wearing black, though she had given up the ridiculous wide-brimmed hat and veil that covered her face. Demetrius liked being able to see her face. It was easier to read her lies that way.
He’d been alerted by security that she wanted to see him, and he had allowed her to come up. He said nothing, waiting for her to give him a reason not to kick her out of the building and out of his country.
She crossed her legs and set her clasped hands on top of her knee. “You’re challenging the king’s will and claiming it’s a fake.”
A fact he wouldn’t deny. “It is a fake.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. If she was in his office, she was worried because his protest had teeth. He was gathering more evidence. Amon was looking for proof and following the paper trail. Demetrius had his lawyers file an amendment to his protest with every shred Amon found. It gave Demetrius satisfaction to know that everything he collected meant he was closer to freeing Alexei.
“My husband wanted me to run the country,” Stella said.
“We both know that’s not true.” While he and the king had not been each other’s closest confidants, Demetrius was certain that the king would not have wanted Stella running Valencia. She was inexperienced and impulsive, and the king’s decision to marry her had been based on lust, not his desire to partner with a strong and capable leader.
“Let me put it to you another way. Withdraw your objection or I will have your brother killed.”
Demetrius controlled his reaction even as white-hot anger sliced through him. Was Stella fishing for information or had she figured out that his brother was rotting in a prison cell in Valencia?
“You should know that I’m not as stupid as you seem to believe. Your wife visited Blackstone, and a prison guard reported that she took an interest in a prisoner. Imagine my surprise when I saw a picture of said prisoner. He looks exactly like you, less fifty pounds and much more broken and bruised. Either it’s a wild coincidence, or this prisoner is the reason you’re worried about what happens in Valencia.”
When he said nothing, she continued. “It was strange to me that you cared so much about Iliana and her inheritance. Because it’s not like you need the money or the land. This has been about your brother all along.”
He debated killing her right then. Threats against his brother burned him to the core. “If you hurt my brother, you’ll be starting a war you can’t win.”
“You’d go to war over one man’s death?”
Demetrius had worked hard to put Icarus on the path to prosperity and success. A war would derail his efforts and rob his country of resources they needed. He wouldn’t make the decision lightly, and he had been holding back his military force from barreling into Valencia and rescuing Alexei for that reason. “If we war, I will win.” A simple and true statement.
Stella thinned her lips. “We’ll see about that. You should consider your next move carefully.”
“You came here to threaten me. You’re in my capitol building. You could disappear and not a single person would speak out against me.”
Stella laughed. “You think you’re much stronger than you are. That will be your downfall. You have liabilities. Your brother. Your wife.”
“If you hurt my family, I will kill you.”
“I’m happy to know you think of Iliana as family. I was worried your marriage to her was a sham.” Her tone was mocking.
Iliana was his wife. He cared about her, and he would protect her. He wouldn’t take Stella’s bait. “Tread carefully.”
Stella smirked at him. “You don’t know what I’m capable of. I’ve studied you for years. That gives me the advantage. You need to understand that I will do anything to get what I want.”
She sounded like a spoiled child. He, too, had been studying her. She was driven by her desire for power. Even more than money, she wanted to be respected and revered. She also had a ruthless side. “I’ve been warned.”
“More than a warning. It’s a promise. If you prevent me from inheriting what I deserve, then you’ll suffer for it. I’ll go after your wife, your brother and even your best friend, Casimir.”
Who did Stella have working for her to give her this much confidence that she could take out his wife and Casimir, the king of a nation? Alexei was an easy mark, and knowing that cut deep. He would warn Casimir of the threat, though he doubted Stella would trifle with the king of Rizari, since that would also mean his wife, the queen of Acacia, would be involved. Then Valencia would be forced to face off against three nations. The odds of winning that battle were not in Stella’s favor.
Could Stella be working with the Ghost? He’d considered it before but as yet couldn’t make a connection between her and the well-known assassin. “Casimir and his wife won’t be easy targets. To start a war with three countries united against you, that’s a battle you won’t win.”
Stella stood. “You’ve been warned, Demetrius. If you value your wife, you’ll withdraw your protest.”
And leave Stella as queen of Valencia. It was a prospect Demetrius did not enjoy. If she were in power, she couldn’t be trusted. “If I back away and you become queen, you’ll release Alexei?”
Stella smiled. “Yes. Withdraw your complaint. Tell your wife to keep out of Valencia’s business, and I’ll release your brother.”
The deal was tempting. Iliana didn’t need the money or land the king’s will had left her. Demetrius provided for her. If Stella kept her word, Alexei could be in Icarus soon. Could he trust Stella to do as she claimed? “I will consider your offer.”
“Please do.”
Iliana appeared in the doorway, holding a picnic basket. She looked between Demetrius and Stella, the confusion on her face evident.
“How charming. A picnic,” Stella said, brushing past Iliana, hitting her shoulder rather forcefully.
Demetrius kept his temper. He was relieved to see Iliana. She was the sounding board he needed. What Stella was asking involved her, too. “Please, come in. Close the door.”
Iliana stepped inside, setting the picnic basket on the chair next to her. “What did Stella want?”
“To threaten Alexei.”
Iliana gasped. “She knows about Alexei?”
Demetrius nodded. “If I back off and let her have Valencia, she’ll free Alexei.”
Iliana sat heavily in a chair. She folded her arms over her chest. “Maybe that’s your only option.”
“If I withdraw my protest, then Stella will be queen.”
Iliana blew out her breath. “But Alexei would be free. Isn’t that what you want?”
It was his heart’s greatest wish. “I could send in another team to try to free him.”
“How many teams have you sent?” Iliana asked.
“Twelve.
”
She winced. “I’m sorry, Demetrius. I feel as if our whole world has been shaken.”
He felt the same way. The one good and right thing in his life was Iliana, and she wanted a divorce. Knowing that, his chest tightened. He had made a mess of their relationship. It had started so promisingly. He had wanted to be a good man and a great husband. He had failed on both counts.
He didn’t know how to make it right. “Is that lunch for us?”
“I know it’s hard to get away, but I thought you could take a break.”
It was what he needed. Iliana in his life. If only he could figure a way to keep her there.
* * *
It had been a week with no word on Emmanuel. No body had been found, and no one had seen him.
Maria was incommunicado as well, but at least she had explained to Iliana that she would be disappearing to protect herself.
And then Iliana heard that Georgia had been hospitalized with a stress-induced illness. The family Iliana had only just discovered was falling apart. It broke her heart.
Her phone rang. Demetrius’s number appeared on the display.
“Did you hear the news about Stella?” Demetrius asked.
What had she done now? “I don’t think I can handle more bad news,” Iliana said.
“I don’t know if you’ll consider this bad news, but she was arrested this morning under suspicion of being involved in Nicholas’s and Spiro’s deaths.”
The room spun. “What about Emmanuel?”
A long pause. “She has not been charged with his disappearance.”
“What do you think?” Iliana asked.
“About what?”
“About Stella being arrested.”
“I don’t think she’s directly responsible.”
But she was likely involved. “You think she hired the Ghost.”
“Not sure about that, either. I’ve been looking into the matter, and I’ve gotten some information that doesn’t jibe with her initiating the attacks. She may have doctored the will to cut out the king’s children, but why go through the trouble of killing the heirs?”
“Because she wasn’t sure the will would hold up in court?”
“If that was her end goal, why not go after the heirs when the king was alive?”
“Because the king would be suspicious. Someone tried to kill me before the king died,” Iliana said.
“I will get to the bottom of this.”
“Is that a promise?” Iliana asked.
“Yes.”
Demetrius had made several promises he hadn’t fulfilled yet. Could she trust him? Too much was at stake for him to fail, but success seemed impossible.
* * *
Reading autopsy reports and police files weren’t Demetrius’s favorite way to spend the afternoon. Amon had acquired copies of the police reports, interviews with witnesses and the medical examiner’s findings related to the deaths of Nicholas and Spiro Floros, the attempted murder of Maria Floros and the disappearance of Emmanuel Floros.
The facts didn’t add up in Nicholas’s autopsy. Demetrius searched the internet, interpreting the medical jargon. A science website confirmed his suspicion about Nicholas.
Given Nicholas’s blood type, he was not Kaliope’s biological son. She had to know. Fathers could be lied to or told they were the father. Mothers knew. No way around it.
Demetrius considered the possibility that Nicholas had been switched at birth but dismissed it. Nicholas took after his father—the strong jawline, the high cheekbones. Why was Kaliope pretending that Nicholas was her son?
He could be her nephew or another blood relative whom the king and queen had agreed to raise as their own to spare embarrassment for an unwed mother or a child resulting from an affair. But Demetrius had a darker, more twisted suspicion. King Emmanuel Floros had had an affair that resulted in Nicholas’s birth, and he had forced Kaliope to raise Nicholas as theirs.
Demetrius searched for an explanation to piece together the timeline. In pictures, Kaliope appeared to be pregnant around that time, but that could have been faked.
He needed to question Kaliope about Nicholas. If she was keeping the king’s secret, she could come clean now. Maybe it wouldn’t answer the question of who was targeting the heirs, but it might shed light on the truth.
People could live with the truth. Lies only begat more lies.
* * *
Iliana met Kaliope at her home in Daedalus. This was their first private meeting, and while Demetrius had insisted she arrange it and that he come along to keep her safe, he couldn’t protect her from Kaliope’s anger or harsh words. Kaliope hadn’t embraced her since learning of her existence. She had instead been distantly polite. Since Kaliope had dealt with the king’s affairs and Iliana was a reminder of that, she understood the other woman’s resentment.
“I wanted to meet with you to clear the air about a few things,” Iliana said.
Kaliope appeared serene. Her dark hair was brushed away from her face, hanging loose around her shoulders. Her clothing was immaculate and tailored as if made for her. Perhaps it was. “Do you mind if we walk outside in the hanging gardens? My dianthuses are blooming, and it’s absolutely gorgeous. Sadness lingers in me, but fresh air lifts the ache.”
Iliana agreed and followed Kaliope into the garden.
“What things do you want to address with me? Has Demetrius found anything about Emmanuel?” Kaliope asked.
“Demetrius hasn’t given up. He will call you the moment he has information. The reason I wanted to talk with you was more personal. I am a result of the king’s affair, one of them, and you may find that upsetting.”
Kaliope drew to a stop. “If we’re being honest, and I see no reason not to be, then, yes, hearing that the king fathered a child with another woman was upsetting. I knew he’d had an affair with your mother, but I thought it was a brief fling that ended after one night.” She didn’t mention Nicholas. Could Demetrius have been off base with his theory?
Iliana had harbored the idea that her mother and the king had had a love affair. That idea seemed to be supported by what she had found out in Kontos. “Why do you think the king felt he needed to hide me by placing me in the care of friends?”
Kaliope continued walking, her fingertips absently brushing the leaves of her plants as she walked. “I can’t begin to know what my ex-husband was thinking. He was an impulsive man in his personal life. Your mother wasn’t his only lover. I turned a blind eye when I could, but eventually it became too much for me. His incessant affairs are what ended our marriage.”
Kaliope’s words cheapened Iliana’s vision of the relationship between her mother and the king. Had Persephone only been significant because a child had resulted from the affair? Had her mother meant anything to the king? The age difference had been enormous. Could her mother have been an opportunist? Looking for someone to take care of her? “I’m sorry to hear that. I was under the impression that the king was worried for my well-being, and that was part of his reason for hiding me.”
Kaliope’s eyes narrowed. “If you are implying that I was a danger to you, I resent that.”
“I wasn’t implying anything. I wanted you to know that I feel badly about what’s happened to Nicholas and Maria. I’m praying that Emmanuel returns home.”
At the mention of her children, Kaliope’s hands shook. “I’ve spoken to Maria, and I believe she is safe. But my Emmanuel...I am terrified for his life.”
She’d said nothing of Nicholas. Had Kaliope grown to care for him? What had their relationship been like? If the king had had two children out of wedlock, why force Nicholas into their home but turn her away? Perhaps raising two bastards would have been too much for Kaliope.
Kaliope glanced to where Demetrius was standing close to the entryway, talking o
n his phone. “Do you trust him?”
“Of course,” Iliana said, hearing and feeling confidence in her words she hadn’t expected.
“I am afraid that he’s involved with Emmanuel’s disappearance.”
Iliana was startled. “Why would you think that?”
“He’s called the Chess Master in certain circles. It’s one of the nicer names for him. If Stella’s claim to the throne is overturned, that means Emmanuel is the king’s first heir. If Demetrius has him locked away, that makes Maria the first heir.”
“How does Demetrius gain anything from Maria being crowned over Emmanuel?”
“You’ve been friendly with my daughter. I love Maria and I admire her, but she is much more easily swayed. Emmanuel will make a good king. He is strong and fair and smart. Maria can be indecisive. She has her father’s impulsiveness in certain matters.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way. Do you think Nicholas would have made a good king?” Iliana asked, poking harder at the spot. She didn’t want to twist a knife into a grieving mother’s heart, but she was starting to think that Kaliope didn’t have affection for Nicholas. Demetrius had the science to prove it, and Kaliope’s behavior wasn’t helping matters.
Kaliope’s eyes turned hard and flat. “Nicholas was an alcoholic and a drug abuser. He would not have made a good leader. He was barely a decent man. He spent his weekends whoring and snorting whatever he could find to get high. It was embarrassing, and his death was a merciful end to a destructive life.”
A harsh statement to make about her son, but anger was a stage of grieving. Demetrius would dig until he found answers, and Iliana hoped this conversation with Kaliope would help.
* * *
Demetrius opened the door to Kaliope’s bedroom. The room was decorated in dark purples and whites, and the smell of lavender was heavy in the air. He slid on his leather gloves. He wouldn’t leave any evidence behind.
No prescription bottles on the dresser. The room was neat and tidy, the bed made, and no sign of laundry, dust or debris. No contraceptives in the bedside table, although she did keep massage oil and candles there.