Royal Secrets

by Abramson, Traci Hunter

  “That’s a lot more than what we started with,” he told her. “I’m going to give my father this latest information. Hopefully he’ll be willing to bring Elam in now for a little heart-to-heart.”

  “Do you want me to keep digging and see what else I can find?”

  Stefano nodded. “I’m sure we’re all especially interested in that numbered account in the Caymans.”

  “I’m not promising anything, but I’ll do what I can.”

  * * *

  When Stefano entered his father’s office once more, Martino was no longer present, and his mother now sat on the couch beside Garrett.

  “Did you find Alora?” Janessa asked.

  Stefano nodded. “She’s still looking through Uncle Elam’s bank accounts, but she’s already linked money transfers from one of his personal accounts to the same account the embezzled funds were sent to.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Stefano nodded.

  Eduard reached for his phone and immediately called his brother. Stefano expected his father to demand that Elam come to the palace immediately, but to his surprise, he issued an invitation for him to join them the following evening for the council dinner, along with a request to meet with him following the event. He hung up and looked at Stefano. “Have Alora gather as much information as she can. I would like her to join us at the meeting with Elam.”

  “I’ll extend your request.” Stefano thought of the last time he had made arrangements for Alora to join him for a social event and glanced over at Janessa. “Any chance Alora had you pack something suitable for her to wear to the council dinner?”

  Janessa shook her head. “I’m sure I can find something for her to borrow.”

  “Nonsense,” Marta interrupted. “We can’t have her settle for a borrowed gown. My designer is scheduled to arrive tomorrow morning to meet with Janessa and me about her wedding dress. I can have her bring something from her shop for Alora.”

  “We’ll need to let Signora Vorneaux know that Alora is LDS too. She won’t wear anything sleeveless either,” Janessa told her.

  “I’ll call her and make the necessary arrangements,” Marta promised.

  “There is one more thing we need to discuss.” Eduard focused on Garrett. “We are concerned that someone is gathering information on our family, potentially damaging information.” He hesitated a moment as though searching for the right words. His voice was tight when he continued. “Your brother and I feel that it would be best if you announce you have converted to the Mormon Church.”

  “What?” Garrett’s eyes widened. “I thought you wanted me to keep that private as long as possible.”

  “I did, but there is evidence that someone may be trying to undermine the very fabric of this monarchy. Coupled with the terrorist attack yesterday and the possible vulnerability of my brother, if all our secrets came to light at the same time, the media could be used to turn our citizens against us or at least cause enough confusion that we would be vulnerable.”

  “I don’t understand.” Garrett shifted forward in his seat. “My baptism doesn’t matter in the overall scheme of things. I’m second in line to the throne. Stefano’s future family will be the concern of the kingdom.”

  Stefano looked from his brother to his father, the unspoken question visible in his father’s eyes. He looked around the room at the people who were most important to him. They were all here except for Alora and her children. He drew a steadying breath, and then he spoke to Garrett. “My sons will never rule.” Regret filled Stefano’s voice. “Yours will.”

  “What?”

  “I have Merid’s syndrome.” He started to say he would never have children, but the image of Giancarlo and Dante flashed into his mind. The clarity that he could be a father even if he couldn’t have children in a traditional sense gave him a feeling of comfort. “I can’t ever have a child who will be of royal blood.”

  Silence hung in the air as Garrett absorbed the news, confusion shifting to awareness and compassion. “You’re sure?” When Stefano nodded, Garrett shook his head. “How long have you known? You never said anything.”

  “Only a few weeks. My original test results are missing. The results in my medical file belonged to someone else.”

  Before Garrett could offer his sympathies, Eduard spoke once more to Garrett. “Obviously your brother’s news is very private, but we believe his medical records may have been compromised. Your religion will become public knowledge eventually. I think it best if we leak it in a way that is within our control.”

  Still stunned by the news, Garrett rubbed a hand over his face. “What do you suggest?”

  “I feel it would be appropriate for all of us to attend the Meridian cathedral on Sunday to pray for the victims of the bombings. Afterward, I think you and Janessa should go to your church,” Eduard suggested. “If you let the press follow you, they will undoubtedly be waiting for you when you come out, and you can give a statement about your new religion.”

  Garrett seemed to struggle with his father’s suggestion, but after a moment he nodded. “If that’s what you want, that’s what we’ll do, but what happens if the news about Stefano is released at the same time? It could still have the same result.”

  “We are changing the impact of your story by releasing it ourselves. As for your brother, his news was only recently acquired. Hopefully it won’t come out, but if it does, I think we can turn the person holding it into the villain for selling private medical information. Besides, by attending services before going to your church on Sunday, you will be showing respect for the religion of your land as well as the religion of your heart.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  A rapid knock sounded at the door. Stefano moved to open it, concern shooting through him when he found Alora on the other side, her face pale. He reached for her hand and drew her inside. As soon as he closed the door once more, he asked, “What’s wrong?”

  “I finished following the money trails out of Prince Elam’s personal accounts, and I managed to hack into the bank account in the Caymans.”

  “And?”

  “I still don’t know who owns the Cayman account, but I can tell you that Hector Ambrose was paid from it.” Her words came out in a rush, and her eyes were wide. “The timing indicates that the payments would have been for the bombing in Bellamo.”

  King Eduard shifted uncomfortably. “You think my brother could be involved with the bombing?”

  “I can’t be certain,” Alora said, clearly distressed by her findings. “Besides the money transferred from your household accounts and Prince Elam’s personal accounts, I traced several more deposits from a bank in Libya. It’s possible that Prince Elam was using that account to launder funds so they couldn’t be traced back to him, but it’s also possible that he was being blackmailed by whoever is behind it.”

  “Do you know where the other money came from?”

  “It was routed through several different accounts, from all over the globe. I don’t know who owned the account the money originated from in Libya, but I did uncover a name on a bank the money was routed through in Singapore.” Her eyebrows drew together as she looked down at the pad of paper she held. “Caspar Gazsi.”

  Stefano’s eyes widened. “The president of Caspian Oil?”

  Alora looked at him, confused. “Caspian Oil?”

  Stefano nodded. “The Libyan company that wants to drill for oil off our shores.”

  Janessa shifted in her seat uncomfortably. “Director Palmer also mentioned that Gazsi is associated with Liberté, the dissident group here in Meridia.”

  “You think he might be working with my brother?” Eduard asked.

  “There’s no way to tell for sure.” Alora shrugged. “Either way, your brother probably knows more about who hired Ambrose than we do.”

  “We will be meeting with Elam tomorrow after the council dinner. I want you to be there.”

  “If you wish,” Alora said hesitantly.

  Eduar
d nodded. “Stefano, please make sure Alora makes it back to her room, and then I have some things I still need to discuss with you before dinner.”

  “Yes, Father.”

  Chapter 37

  “You don’t need to walk me back,” Alora said as soon as they left the king’s office. “I’m sure I can find my way to my room.”

  Stefano took her by the arm and started down the hall. “The palace can be a very confusing place.”

  Her mind was still so consumed with the information she had uncovered that she didn’t hear the underlying challenge in his voice. “I’m sure you have a lot to discuss with your father. Besides, I have a really good sense of direction.”

  “Have you always been that way, or did you pick up that skill while working for the CIA?”

  “Excuse me?” She stopped walking and turned to face him. “What are you talking about?”

  He nudged her forward again. “I was just wondering how extensive your training was while you worked for the U.S. government.”

  Her heartbeat quickened, but she fought to keep her posture relaxed. “I worked in their embassy as a finance clerk. That’s all.”

  “Alora, there’s no need to stick to a cover story with me,” Stefano returned mildly. “You didn’t learn how to track down fund transfers like that by working as a finance clerk, and I’ve seen you shoot. Besides, I’m well aware of Janessa’s background and training with the CIA.”

  Alora kept her expression carefully blank. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Of course you don’t.” Stefano nodded knowingly. He steered her toward an intersecting hallway, but she stopped and looked over her shoulder. “Where are you taking me? My room is that way.”

  “We need to talk.”

  She stepped away from him. “Stefano, I need to go get the kids ready for dinner, and your father is waiting for you.”

  “Just give me a few minutes.” Stefano reached for her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

  Alora debated for a moment, weighing the ramifications of confiding in Stefano about her previous job. If he knew about Janessa, he clearly had earned the trust of someone high up in the CIA. Realizing that the conversation was inevitable, she nodded and let him lead her by the hand down the hallway. After making several more turns, he pushed open a French door that led directly onto a covered balcony.

  Drawn to the view, Alora crossed to the railing and stared out at the gardens and the cliffs that lay beyond. The clouds hung low in the sky, and a light rain still fell steadily.

  “I understand you have been trained not to divulge who you worked for,” Stefano began calmly. “But knowing Janessa’s background, I already know that the employer you listed in Paris is a front for CIA operations. Janessa’s résumé reads the same as yours.”

  Alora remained silent, her eyes still fixed on the gardens.

  “I can ask Director Palmer to send your complete file, but I would much rather hear about your background from you.”

  Alora let out a sigh. “If you talk about this in front of anyone else, I’ll deny it.”

  “Fair enough.” Stefano nodded. “But you did work for the CIA in Paris and so did your husband, right?”

  “Yes, we both worked for the Agency.” Alora shifted so she was facing him. “Carlo was second generation CIA. Both of his parents worked there, and I met him when I was on my mission in France. He started writing me, and we were married shortly after I returned home. We lived in the United States for about a year. Then right after Giancarlo was born, my father-in-law arranged for Carlo to be transferred to Paris.

  “My husband was working with the locals there, tracking a terrorist cell, and my father-in-law was convinced Carlo could help stop whatever the group planning. We bought a house on the outskirts of Paris, and money was tight, so I started working part time as a bookkeeper at the embassy. My mother-in-law had retired from active service, and she volunteered to babysit for me. It seemed like the perfect situation.”

  “But somewhere along the line, the CIA recruited you.”

  “Yes.” She nodded. “Before my mission, I worked in a bank in Zena, so I knew my way around banking software, and I had a knack for tracking fund transfers. Carlo and his father helped push through my security clearances and made the arrangements for me to have the proper training. I was never an agent, so most of my skills were acquired on the job.”

  “I’ve seen you shoot. You didn’t learn that on the job.”

  She granted him a small smile and shook her head. “My father taught me when I was young. Then shortly after Dante was born, Carlo insisted that I needed to know how to defend myself. He took me to the shooting range with him several days a week, and I took a series of self-defense classes.” Alora hesitated as the memories took over. “At the time, I thought he was just being paranoid, but I realize now that he was afraid the terrorist cell had discovered who he really was.”

  “Is that who set the bomb that killed him?”

  “We think so.” Alora shrugged. “I spent months trying to make sense of it all, trying to figure out if Carlo was the target or if maybe it was my father-in-law. In the end, the truth was that it didn’t matter. They were both gone, and so was the rest of my family.”

  “Why was everyone together at your house?”

  “My family came to Paris to spend the holidays with me, and my in-laws had decided to spend the day with us.” Alora’s eyes glistened with tears. “It was Christmas Eve.”

  “Alora, I’m so sorry.” He drew her into his arms, holding her close as he felt her tremble. After a moment, he shifted so he could see her face. “How did you and the boys survive?”

  “Dante had strep throat.” She shook her head and let out a short, humorless laugh. “At the time, I was so frustrated that he was sick for his first Christmas. It turned out that the trip to the doctor saved our lives.”

  “I’m so sorry about your family.”

  Alora leaned into him, drawing comfort. She thought of the information she had uncovered earlier and shifted so she could look up at Stefano. “You don’t think your uncle could really be behind the bombing in Bellamo, do you?”

  “I don’t know what to think anymore,” Stefano admitted. “But I do imagine it will be difficult for all of us to deal with him at the council dinner tomorrow night since we’re all anxious to find out the truth.”

  “Does your father expect me to attend dinner with you too?”

  Stefano nodded. “I hope you don’t mind.”

  “This seems to be a recurring theme, but I don’t have anything to wear. I didn’t think to have Janessa pack my formal dress.”

  “My mother is taking care of that.” Stefano explained the plans for his mother’s favorite designer to provide her with a gown.

  “Stefano, that’s too generous.”

  “Consider it a small token of our appreciation for all your help,” Stefano told her. “After all, you’re the one who finally proved that my father’s suspicions held merit.”

  “I hope all of this comes to an end soon,” she said softly. “I hate seeing everyone so tense.”

  “I have a feeling it’s going to get worse before it gets better, especially when the media finds out that my brother is Mormon.”

  Her jaw dropped. “What?”

  “He was baptized a couple months ago.” His shoulders lifted. “The plan is that he’ll make an announcement on Sunday. Hopefully the situation with my uncle won’t complicate matters.”

  Alora shook her head as she absorbed this latest information. “I know a lot of families have their share of secrets, but yours definitely has more than I expected.”

  “I just hope we can survive them.”

  * * *

  Stefano stood between Garrett and Martino in the observation booth at the police station. Luigi was already seated in one of the two chairs, his hands clasped tightly in his lap.

  “It’s still hard to believe he worked for us for almost thirty years without raising any s
uspicions,” Martino said as a police officer entered the interrogation room.

  “I wonder how long he’s been skimming money out of our accounts,” Stefano commented. “Alora has only gone back two years so far.”

  “It looks like we’re about to find out.”

  The interrogator took his seat across the table from Luigi. “Mr. Ovalle, I understand you’ve been working for the royal family for some time now.”

  “That’s right. Nearly thirty years.” Luigi looked at him with confusion on his face. “Why was I brought here? I was supposed to deliver some very important documents to Prince Stefano at the palace.”

  “We just have a few questions for you in relation to the chateau manager’s arrest earlier today,” he assured him. “Now, I understand you’ve worked closely with Martino in your event planning duties. How long have you been in this position?”

  “Two years.”

  “And before that?”

  “I was Prince Elam’s personal assistant.”

  “Why did you change jobs?”

  “When Prince Elam relocated his offices a few years ago, my current position became available. It seemed like a good time for a change.”

  “What do you know about the bombing at the naval base in Bellamo?”

  Surprise illuminated Luigi’s face before he managed to control it. “I don’t know anything about that.”

  “The funds embezzled from the royal household accounts ultimately ended up in the hands of the man who planted the bomb,” the inspector informed him. “The documents in your possession indicate you may have had some involvement.”

  “I found these invoices in Martino’s private quarters.”

  “Documents you planted.”

  Luigi paled. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “There’s no use denying it. We have your actions well documented on video,” the inspector said smugly. “What we want to know is who else was involved with the bombing.”

  “This is absurd. I demand to talk to my lawyer.”

  “Things will go easier for you if you cooperate.”

  Luigi shook his head, his expression belligerent. “I have nothing to say to you.”