I started then, trying to keep my expression calm. Smith-Venetia? What the hell was that? Where did that name come from? I’d known the twins’ last name was Smith, seen it on countless papers, approved their security clearance based on it. So what was this Venetia shit?
Because Venetia is my last name. Or my accurately, it’s the last name of the Venetian royal family, has been for centuries. Was this some kind of fucking joke? I shook my head. What the hell was going on?
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Tina
I didn’t understand what the uproar was about. Violet and I stood in the crowd, watching the induction, and it was fine as far as I could tell. Kristian, Karl and Kato were so handsome, Kristian standing beside the King as Georg worked his way through the pageantry. I wasn’t even listening, I was so happy and proud to see my men up there.
Of course, no one in the crowd but Violet knew that I had three lovers, the three black-haired, blue-eyed giants commanding the crowd with their presence at the instant moment. But it was fine. I knew our love was pure and true, even if it was hidden from the world at the moment.
But everyone saw the King choke momentarily before he moved on, and a hushed gasp ran through the air.
“What is it?” I turned to Violet, “Why is everyone whispering? Everything’s fine, right?”
And the older woman turned towards me, eyes bright with tears.
“The boys, their last name is Smith-Venetia,” she said slowly.
“Really?” I asked. “I had no idea that they had a double-barrel last name, they never mentioned it,” I shook my head, confused. “I thought it was just Smith.”
“No honey,” replied Violet. “Because my maiden name is Smith, they usually just use that alone. But the second part,” she said, her voice trailing off.
“The second name is their dad’s,” I finished for her. “But why is that so significant now? Is it because he’s here somewhere?” I asked, craning my head.
“Oh he’s here,” she replied, a single tear spilling down her cheek now, “he’s here.”
I couldn’t tell if it was a tear of joy or sadness because Violet was staring at the dais the entire time. And I couldn’t see that anything was wrong per se, except that the King seemed tightlipped suddenly, moving about stiffly as he touched both Karl and Kato’s shoulders with a massive staff, inducting them into the Legionnaires.
And after it was done, Kristian stepped forward, face oddly pale, expression unreadable.
“Welcome brothers, into the fraternity. Let the revelry begin.”
And with that, the ceremony ended, the party starting up again. But what was I missing? Why did everyone look so stunned?
“Violet, what’s going on? What does everyone know that I don’t?” I demanded, swiveling to my companion.
And the older woman looked at me, her face wet with tears now.
“Their last name is Venetia because it’s the last name of the royal family here,” she said simply. “King Georg is their father.”
And I gasped, my outburst drowned out by the din of the crowd, the thin strains of the orchestra. Karl and Kato were the sons of the King? That made them princes too … and half-brothers of Prince Kristian? Holy fuck, I’d been having sex with not two brothers, but three?
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Kato
We gathered in a drawing room, a small group, Karl and I, Kristian and the King, plus our mom and Tina. A couple Legionnaires stood attendance outside the door, making sure no one would enter. And good thing because as soon as the door shut, Georg burst into a rage.
“You ho!” he screeched at Violet. “What are you doing here? Why are you here? To wreck my life like you did once already?”
I stepped forward immediately, glowering, my big form ready to do some serious damage, King or not.
“Don’t talk to our mother that way,” I hissed, hand raised.
And my brother was one step behind, the look on his face twisted and ugly.
“Stand down, fucker,” he spat. “Stand the fuck down.”
And yeah, we’re professional soldiers, I have no doubt of the impression we made. Two huge, athletic men, towering, dominating one fat paunchy dude, it was no match, no match at all. No weapons needed, just give us two seconds flat and he’d be a fucking mess on the floor.
But Violet, despite having two circles of scarlet high on her cheekbones, was no shrinking violet. She gave as good as she got, and this time was no exception.
“They’re your sons, you’ve always known that,” she spat, eyes shooting sparks. “You’ve shirked your paternal obligations for years now, years,” she hissed. “You need to man up and recognize.”
And I expected Georg to make some lame excuse about being busy, how he had a country to run, honor to uphold, all that bullshit. But instead, he turned it right back on Violet.
“I had no choice,” he ground out. “I have to live in St. Venetia, I’m the fucking King! You had to live in buttfuck nowhere, a little town with what? Fifty people? What did you expect me to do? Move to Smallville, USA? Leave my people behind? Give up the throne?”
WTF? Violet had always told us that our dad had had no interest in us, that we were an accident, a literal flying fuck as part of the Mile High Club. So what was this stuff about wanting to know us? Had our mom never given him a chance, keeping us sequestered and out of his reach?
But before I could ask, Violet started hurling epithets too.
“Well I couldn’t take it!” she screeched, “I couldn’t stand the fact that you always had me in the closet, your ho that you fucked whenever it was convenient. All because of you and your need for ‘royal blood,’” she mimed with air quotes. “What the fuck is wrong with being a commoner? I’m human, I’m good enough.”
Holy shit. Georg had looked down on Violet because she wasn’t nobility? I could see why she was so angry, she’s American and there isn’t any real nobility in the United States, just fake royals like the Kardashians.
But that was neither here nor there, and Georg responded from left field, sparring from a completely different angle, making my breath catch, my chest grow tight.
“Stop making this about ‘royal blood,’” he shot back, “because you know it was never about that. I couldn’t date you, I couldn’t marry you because I didn’t have any money,” he ground out. “I explained it to you. My family didn’t have any money, we were living a lie pretending to be something we weren’t, and I had to marry a rich woman just to keep a roof over our heads, so my parents could continue their farce. What don’t you get that? You’ll never understand what loyalty is, what family duty is,” he said bitterly.
“You’re right, I don’t understand,” shot back Violet. “What about your ‘family duty’ to the boys? Why haven’t you reached out?”
And at that, Georg looked ashamed.
“You’re right,” he said, looking off into the distance. “I tried to contact them a couple times when they were kids, but you had them in Nowhereville, USA, home-schooling them as if you were in a cult,” he said bitterly. “I never heard back so I gave up after a couple years,” he continued. “Maybe I shouldn’t have.”
And a shocked silence descended.
“Mom,” I said slowly, “Is what he’s saying true? I don’t even know where to start, what the fuck this is so messed up.”
“Don’t try to understand,” said Violet, bitterness lacing her voice. “I never got it myself. I just got that I wasn’t good enough, that was loud and clear,” she said, her voice accusatory, still looking at the king.
And Georg sighed then, his shoulders slumped, his air defeated.
“Haven’t you heard anything I’ve said?” he asked tiredly. “I couldn’t marry you, I had to marry for money. It had nothing to do with power, prestige, family name, or ‘the blood royal’ as you love repeating. It had to do with money, and my wife’s family had plenty.”
And now my mom looked like a trapped animal, her face sheet white, turning rapi
dly in different directions, panicked, fidgety.
“There’s not true,” she said quickly. “Did he tell you that was true? Because it’s not. I did what I thought was best for my boys, I didn’t want you to grow up cloistered here, princes of some small country I’d never heard of, with no future.”
And here, Kristian snorted, interrupting not so gently.
“I’ll have you know that St. Venetia is an up and coming hub of financial services,” he stated. “Small size doesn’t matter when your trade is digital currency and international banking,” he added pointedly.
But my mom just looked frozen.
“Well that wasn’t around when I gave birth to the twins,” she said, her expression rigid. “I did the best I could,”
And here Tina interrupted in a gentle voice. “I’m sure you did, Violet, I’m sure you did. But even if you were stifled here, if St. Venetia wasn’t your place, why didn’t you let Karl and Kato see their father?”
And here, Violet got really nasty, turning on a dime.
“Who are you to tell me?” she hissed. “You scheming slut! You spread your legs for anyone and look at my two boys now. Right back where I started, in this good-for-nothing cesspool.”
And before anyone could add anything else, she turned and screamed at all of us.
“Stop ganging up on me, I know what you’re up to! This is why I left St. Venetia in the first place, I feel so trapped, like everything was set up so that I’d fail. And now look what’s happened … I’ve lost three sons!” she screeched, her voice going higher with each word, literally finishing an octave above her starting pitch.
And here, the room fell deathly silent. After a pause, the Crown Prince spoke.
“I think you mean two sons,” he said smoothly. “Karl and Kato, the twins, that’s two,” he reminded gently, holding up two fingers.
And the woman just looked at him, a crazed expression in her eyes before bursting into peals of laughter, high-pitched, demented, the sound echoing off the walls, ringing so hard it hurt my eardrums.
“No, Highness,” she said sarcastically. “I didn’t miscount. Because I’m including you. You’re my firstborn.”
And with that, Kristian stepped back, tall, imposing, a harsh look in his eyes, face dark and stormy.
“Guards!” he called as troopers stormed into the room. “Arrest this woman for treason,” he ordered coldly, and turned his back on the hag as they dragged her out of the room.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Tina
My head spun. I could hardly believe what had happened, the conversation in the past ten minutes dizzying, switching tacks on the drop of a dime, accusations and epithets hurled every few seconds. What was going on?
But there was one part I’d caught. That Georg at one point had acknowledged his sons, acknowledged Karl and Kato and tried to be a part of their lives, but he’d been barred from legitimizing them because he needed to marry for money.
And that’s what got me now. It was like some sick, twisted nightmare that keeps coming back, rearing its ugly head no matter what you do. Because I’d been shipped off to Miss Carroll’s for the same reason. My parents could no longer afford their lifestyle, our family fortune squandered over the years, and I’d been the last hope, launched into the world with a directive to find a rich husband to save our flagging estate.
And it seems that once upon a time, King Georg had been in these very same shoes. The King himself, with the world at his fingertips, had had to sacrifice and give up a woman he was entranced with, who’d borne him three children, in order to marry a woman with a hefty inheritance.
“Where is Queen Agatha?” I asked, my voice trembling.
But no one answered. Suddenly this woman who I’d only seen from afar, observed from a distance, was a key linchpin in the events of the day.
But Kristian spoke for his mother.
“The Queen is indisposed,” he said coldly. “Agatha is still my mother no matter what that tramp says.”
And all of us knew that the “tramp” he was referring to was Violet. Karl and Kato immediately turned on him, growling, hackles raised.
“Shut the fuck up,” ground out Karl.
“Fuck you,” spat Kato.
Clearly, no one was going to insult their mother, even if she was bat-shit crazy. But after glowering at each other for a few more seconds, all three males turned away, faces shuttered, giving nothing away. Maybe it was because the sight of each other was a jolt to reality – the realization that their physical resemblance wasn’t just chance, it was biology.
So with a dark look, Kato turned to the King.
“It’s true, isn’t it?” he growled. “He’s our older brother, isn’t he?”
Georg looked defeated at this point.
“I’m ashamed boys,” he said quietly. “That things have gotten to this point because yes, he is.”
And there was a stunned silence.
“What the fuck?” growled Karl. “How the fuck did this happen?”
Georg just looked sad more than anything else, a faraway look in his eyes before he began.
“A long time ago when I was a young man,” he began slowly, “I met an American student at a ski lodge,” he said wryly. “Life then was different then. We were young, carefree, and she was beautiful, smart, lively, and even a little nuts back then,” he said with the first hint of humor we’d seen since this turn of events. “Violet was irresistible and what can I say? We got pregnant accidentally,” he said, looking at Kristian. “You were born the next year.”
The Crown Prince was dead silent, his face expressionless, giving nothing away.
“I explained to her who I was, what I was up against,” continued Georg slowly. “I wasn’t my own man, after all. Sure, I was royalty, I had titles galore, and my family was reputed to be worth billions with holdings in Switzerland, Dubai, the Cayman Islands, anywhere there was a place to safely stash wealth. But the truth is,” he said, taking a deep breath, “We had very little. Everything that we ‘owned’ actually belonged to the people of St. Venetia. This castle, these furnishings, the crowns, the jewels, none of it is ours. We’d been living off a small nest egg that was getting smaller every year, until we were barely scraping by,” he said wryly.
“So when Kristian was born, it was hushed up because I was already engaged to Agatha. Or more accurately,” he corrected, “our families ‘brokered’ the marriage, trading royal titles and prestige for an infusion of cash. Agatha and I were just pawns, son. Whatever happens, don’t blame your mother. Agatha and I,” he repeated, looking at Kristian sorrowfully, “we never had any choice.”
“But the Rothschilds are no fools,” he continued slowly. “Agatha, as you know, is a descendant of the German Rothschilds, Baron Goebbel von Rothschild’s only surviving great-granddaughter. And her family would only continue with the marriage provided that we passed off Kristian as Agatha’s biological son.”
My eyes felt like they were going to pop out of their sockets now, my mouth hanging open in shock. It was like opening a dark closet and discovering not one skeleton, but a skeleton within a skeleton within a skeleton. The royal family was messed up, that was for sure.
But Georg wasn’t finished, not even halfway through.
“And so we were married,” he said simply. “Agatha and I tied the knot and the first of our family’s deep, devastating secrets hatched. It was like a snowball rolling faster than you can imagine, turning into a crushing avalanche within seconds. Because within a year,” he said, “I had a new wife, a new son, and Violet … well, she left the minute I told her I was engaged to someone else. Who would blame her?” he said, the look on his face pained, bitter even, thinking back to these events from long ago.
But he wanted to offer some salvation.
“Your mother wanted to take you with her,” he said to Kristian quickly, “she cried and screamed, even threatened to kill herself, but the Palace didn’t care, ignoring her entreaties, turning a blind eye. They
kept you under lock and key, never letting you out of sight, because there was no way a poor student from America was going to make off with St. Venetia’s heir to the throne.”
“So life continued,” he said. “Violet disappeared and here I was with a completely new life. Was I happy? Was I sad? I can’t really say, just that the days passed in a blur, my mind on autopilot. I probably was too numb to feel anything,” he added reflectively.
“But life took another unexpected turn. I was on a flight to Jerusalem a couple years later, and who was on board as the first class flight attendant but the beautiful Violet? It was a shocker to say the least,” he said, light flickering in his eyes. “I want to say we were cordial, we were civil, but it didn’t happen like that,” he said wryly. “And I guess you know this part. You two,” he said nodding at Karl and Kato, “were conceived on that flight. When we parted ways, I figured it’d been a lucky break, that I got to sample the irresistible Violet one last time, unexpectedly, out of the blue.”
“So when she told me that she was pregnant, I was astounded,” he said. “I mean, what are the chances? Two accidental pregnancies with the same woman who wasn’t my wife? But now things were different. I was a married man with obligations, a role model for the country and its citizens. What were the people going to think if I announced two bastard children?”
“So the Palace hatched another plan,” he continued slowly, reflectively. “They told me to let Violet keep the kids, and I’d be able to communicate long-distance with you. Little did we know that your mom would go crazy, home-schooling you guys, isolating you on that farm in the middle of nowhere.”
“But that’s what happened. I tried to get in touch at first, kept phoning, kept writing letters, but never got through, never heard back. And after a while, I gave up. I figured you’d live your lives and we’d live ours, separated by an ocean, never to cross paths. But evidently that’s not the case anymore,” he said painfully.
TRIPLE PRINCES: An MFMM Menage Romance Page 14