“Did you not understand the rules?”
She lifted her chin and swallowed.
Ah, fearful defiance. An expression he’d seen many times. Lozano sighed. He lazily strolled to the bedside and grabbed a pillow.
“I was calling my driver to pick me up,” her sweet, soft voice nearly begged.
“I’m sure. After you called your pimp to tell him who I was.” He opened the drawer to the nightstand, and reached under the Holy Bible that came with every room. Then he pulled out the 9mm pistol, and shot through the pillow to muffle the noise. The bullet went straight through Sadie’s breast. Red splattered the wall behind her, and she slumped to the floor.
Feathers floated in the air around him as the brunette sat up from the mattress and screamed. He aimed the gun/pillow at her.
“No! Please, no!” She scrambled from the covers and curled herself up against the headboard. Tears cascaded down her cheeks, trailing mascara in its wake.
Her long, dark hair covered her shoulders, skimming her nipples.
Lozano grimaced. The brunette wasn’t nearly as adventurous as her crimson-haired companion, but she was infinitely more gorgeous. Less inquisitive, and kept to her duties. More promising than any other prostitute he’d ever taken. “Stand up.”
She hiccupped, and her trembling body complied. Her achingly perfect body. “I w-won’t say anything…I p-promise.”
“Yes, I know, sweetling. Move over there.” He motioned to Sadie’s corpse.
More tears poured from her eyes, and her bottom lip shook. “Please, no. I’ll leave quietly.”
“Now!” he barked.
She jumped and obeyed. With timid steps, she approached the expanding pool of blood. A henchman burst into the room, pistol drawn. When he saw Lozano pointing the gun at the other hooker, he pointed his own weapon at her as well.
“Leave!” Lozano barked.
The bodyguard didn’t hesitate. He turned, walked out of the room, and closed the door behind him.
“It was j-just a job,” the hooker sniffled. “She s-said quick cash for o-one night.” Her blubbering grew to gibberish, and her brilliant violet eyes locked on his. Her second-most alluring feature.
Such a waste.
He fired, more feathers spewing everywhere. The shot went through her neck.
The henchman came back into the room, pistol re-holstered.
“Clean this shit up,” Lozano barked, just as her beautiful face slammed into the rug. He tossed the pillow on top of her. “Bag and burn. Be extra careful where you dump the bodies. We need time to leave Singapore.”
Two more bodyguards came in and rolled up the bodies in the rug. He approached the rosewood credenza and pulled a phone from his briefcase; one of the twelve prepaid cells. His son finally answered on the fourth ring.
“I thought you were going to bed early, Father,” Ricardo panted. In the background, he heard his soon-to-be daughter-in-law moaning in pleasure. Pre-wedding fuck.
“Don’t keep tabs on me. Move the ceremony to ten a.m. We have to leave the country.”
The silence on the other end of the phone made his neck itch. Is he going to dare argue with me?
“Father, that’s impossible. Sophia’s family doesn’t arrive until noon, and the priest isn’t available until three. And what about all our plans? The fetching ritual, the tea ceremony afterwards? The banquet alone has over three hundred coming.”
“Don’t bother me with details, boy. Move it.” He hung up. He’s bitching about something so trivial? The ridiculous tradition of a fetching ritual, and he hated tea. He dialed his other son.
“Calling for good news, Father?” Raul cleared his throat. No doubt trying to hide the rasp from a long holiday of drinking, drugs, and debauchery.
“You better have great news. What’s the recruitment count?”
“Sixty-three. Mostly Indonesian, a few Thai and Chinese. How’s Singapore?”
“Problematic.”
Raul snorted. “Did the bride change her mind? Ricardo get caught screwing a hooker?”
“Make your way to Solana. Start smuggling in the recruits and hook them up with our sleepers. I’ll meet you there in a week. I have to make a stop in Kuala Lumpur first.”
“Kuala Lumpur? Why not the hill estate in Cebu?”
“Too hot in the Philippines. Need to stay off the radar.”
“Fine. When does the shipment arrive?”
Lozano bit the inside of his cheek. The shipment of black market weapons he’d purchased for his replacement mercenary army had been confiscated by the U.S. Navy on the very yacht that the princess and her engineer bodyguard had escaped the Philippines with. Such a fucked-up twist of luck. “I have to secure an alternate supply. But they’ll be in place by the time our new dogs are in position.”
“Oh wonderful,” Raul sighed. “What’s Ricardo’s excuse for that?”
This one has nothing to do with him.
“How many times are you going to let him screw up before you cut him off?” The signal on Raul’s side crackled.
“Don’t overstep, Raul. You haven’t taken over this enterprise yet.”
“I’m a little insulted that I wasn’t invited to the ceremony.”
“Oh, I bet you’re ripped apart by it.”
“Give my regards to Sophia’s father,” Raul added. “I look forward to a beautiful business relationship.”
“You mean I look forward to it. You won’t be handling shit with him.”
“Is your new alternate supply source cooperative?”
“Don’t worry about that. I’m sure our negotiations will be very productive.”
Raul laughed. “Yes, your persuasion skills are legendary. Now that he’s…family.”
Another henchman arrived with a bottle of bleach and cleaned the blood matter off the wall. The other two wrapped duct tape around the rolled rug of carcasses. A strand of the brunette’s hair dangled from the end, and something twinged in Lozano’s chest. He rubbed it away. Fucking blood pressure.
“Any word on our little failed contractor?” his youngest asked.
Vasco. The vicious assassin had not only failed to bring him the princess and her companion, but flew the coop with his money.
“Any day now. My new bulldog will feed off his rat-ass for a week.”
The second drawn-out silence from his son really started to get under his skin.
“What?” Lozano barked.
“The pillars of this empire you cherish so much are crumbling.”
Red fire crawled up his throat and burned his face. The pang in his chest deepened and twisted hard.
“If it weren’t for me,” Raul continued, “the toppling of your first invasion on Solana would’ve been the end of you.”
“If it weren’t for you,” Lozano growled, trying to keep his voice even. His youngest loved nothing more than appearing the victor in an argument. “The first mercenaries would still be on Solana, snacking on the intestines of the Solanian Royal Guards. And Princess Alanna would be polishing my rod while she stood on a rug made from Prince André’s skin.” The room spun over his head, and he sat on the bed to keep from falling. “But you tucked tail and ran when the U.N. showed up. All of this additional maneuvering wouldn’t be necessary if it weren’t for you. Watch your tongue, son. Or I’ll cut it out and wipe my ass with it.”
With his dwindling strength, he speared the phone at the panoramic window, shattering the electronic device all over the floor.
“Boss.” One of his men came around the edge of the bed. “We’re ready to go.”
“Give me a moment,” Lozano wheezed. Just have to catch my breath. “I’ll meet you in the parking garage. Send Memo up.”
But the brute didn’t move. He stood there with a stupid expression. “Should…should I call the doc?”
Lozano threw a vicious glare at him. “Yes. For yourself, if you don’t turn around and do as I say. Now!”
Regroup. Cut the dead weight and regroup. He breathed throug
h the minor episode that gripped his chest while his men carried out the bundle.
When did I get so old?
Finally the vise released, and only a dull ache remained. With a deep breath, he stood and dressed in his three-piece Armani suit, complete with a pistol tucked in his back waistband and another at his ankle. His routine was significantly more draining than before.
A knock at the door brought Memo. The massive and eldest of the Ocampo brothers bumbled in like a village idiot with a half-toothy grin to match. The black suit clearly didn’t belong on a savage man like Memo, but they needed to blend in with such lavish accommodations. Despite the awkward image, the man was as cunning and observant as his former brother, Tiburón, the closest thing Lozano had to a friend, now either at the bottom of the Sulu Sea or in the stomach of a tiger shark.
Ironic.
Memo Ocampo portrayed the silent brute well, with the vicious reputation of cannibalizing his targets. Lozano didn’t blame him for the practice—no better way to destroy criminalizing evidence, but probably caused massive indigestion.
“Were those two steaks for me?” His thick Tagalog accent cut between them as he motioned to the door.
“Hardly. I’m still tenderizing the other meal for you. Should be ready soon.” Vasco, you son-of-a-bitch. You’ll have an ugly, slow, and painful death.
Memo exhaled, loud and drawn out. Lozano narrowed his eyes. He could tell the brute was getting impatient, one thing he didn’t appreciate in his new head bodyguard.
Tiburón had never rushed him before, had never expressed impatience or anything at all, for that matter. That was what made him so legendary in his role. But Lozano had no choice. He needed a replacement, and Memo already knew the ropes.
“Where to?”
“Kuala Lumpur. After the ceremony. But first, make sure those thugs don’t leave a mess behind when they dump the bodies. I want it done right. This is Singapore.”
Memo nodded.
“Now,” Lozano sighed, “let me go congratulate my son on his important day. And welcome the bride into our fucked-up family.”
“LET’S KEEP THIS SHORT, GENTLEMEN. I don’t want to keep our guests waiting.” Alanna entered the library like a gust of wind, and allowed the royal guardsmen escorts to close the doors behind her. The room was already full of half a dozen dignitaries, including André, who appeared unnerved, despite his pristine tux and squared shoulders.
The impromptu meeting in the middle of their State Dinner was completely unorthodox. And alarming.
Even worse, these men had clearly started discussing issues before she arrived. I thought he and I were in this together.
“Your Highness…” The American delegate to the United Nations—Tom Willows, or something—bowed his head. “We didn’t wish to disturb you in the middle of this royal function.”
Her cheeks heated, but she refused to let them see her flustered. After all, she’d stared down a vicious cartel boss and escaped his equally vicious, cannibalistic henchman. These wolves in fancy suits wouldn’t thwart her. “Any discussions about our defense agreements absolutely concern me, as much as they do my brother.”
“As I reminded them when the Philippine Ambassador insisted on this meeting.” André’s practiced stare conveyed calm rationality, but she could see the irritation crawling up his neck. “As we already informed him, Solana will not agree to those terms.”
Mr. Willows pulled out a cigarette and lighter. “If you want the United States and the U.N. to help, those are the demands.”
André lifted his gaze to the ceiling.
She had a hard time not rolling her eyes, too. It was so hard to keep track of all the men involved in their defense negotiations, and whose hidden agendas were more pressing.
“With respect,” Stefano cut in to address Willows, “there is no smoking in the Royal Palace.”
The man sighed and slipped them back into his jacket pocket. “My apologies.”
“Gentlemen…” She rounded the corner of a plush armchair, keeping her posture as graceful and commanding as her training taught her. “Since this is a formal function, I take it this interruption means you have an update on the whereabouts of Santos Lozano.”
All heads turned to the man in the corner. Alanna’s polite mood dropped to the floor.
Damon Ward from the U.N. Security Council. She hadn’t noticed him leaning against the wall away from the group of other men. What the hell is he doing here?
The sudden attention didn’t faze him. He moved from out of the shadows into the light of a floor lamp. “Still in progress, Your Highness.”
Alanna bit down hard on her tongue before responding, “Mr. Ward, I wasn’t aware you had an invitation to tonight’s dinner.”
His smile was condescending. “An oversight, I presume. Nice to see you again, Princess. I trust my presence isn’t too unwelcome, since we assisted in your safe return.”
André stepped forward, a confused scowl on his face, reminding her of their father when he was angry. But this was her fight.
“I assumed you were far too busy working tirelessly to see my abductor captured.” Alanna moved a step away from André, a subtle signal that she didn’t need his help for this one. “Though I suppose there’s no need for you to go hungry in the process. Heaven knows how hard the United Nations is riding you to end the Lozano cartel threat for good.”
André stared at her, and a small smirk tugged on his lips.
Ward’s eerie smile widened, but Alanna never blinked.
The Philippines Ambassador cleared his throat through the tension. “We were discussing the United Nations’ terms for a renewed defense agreement. Specifically, the U.S. Government’s request for export rights of ammephire stones in exchange for forces to assist, based out of our southern Philippine islands.”
“Exclusive export rights for the next one hundred years?” André crossed his arms over his chest. “Essentially handing over every bank account in Solana to the United States.”
Fire crawled up Alanna’s spine, and her stomach churned. “Yes, I read that report too. Quite an entertaining piece of fantasy.”
Several men started talking at once, defending one thing or another.
“There is a more pressing issue here tonight, before any of these negotiations can continue.” Everyone silenced at Willows’ elevated words. He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked directly to André. “Who will inherit Solana’s throne?”
The food in Alanna’s gut congealed. This again.
Ward’s smile irritated her further.
“We need to be certain we’re negotiating with the one who holds the authority.” Willows’ condescending stare transferred to Alanna. “Otherwise, all of these efforts are useless.”
“The exact reason why my sister and I have both been involved in every defense discussion since our return.” The sliver of André’s neck revealed from under the tux turned red. “Whenever that decision is announced, the international community will know these agreements are resolute.”
Willows never blinked. “When will that decision be made?”
“When we tell you,” Alanna interrupted. This argument has gone on long enough. And my brother is losing his temper again. “Enough for tonight, gentlemen. Unless Mr. Ward has a security update on the Lozanos, all further defense negotiations will continue tomorrow.” She smiled, her practiced one with no feeling behind it. “Please go enjoy the evening. Return to your wives, or in your case, Mr. Ward, your military escorts. I’m sure you have another Security Council vote to delay.”
An awkward silence filled the room, which most of the men took as their cue to leave. Slowly, they filed out of the room, until only Alanna, André, and Ward remained.
Alanna sighed and cocked her head in warning. “What now?”
“My security update was for you and the prince alone.” His calm, almost lazy demeanor reminded her of his behavior on the USS Delphus, where he’d given her the file containing the gruesome details of her
family’s death. She hated it just as much now. Ward reached into his jacket pocket.
Several bodyguards moved forward, and André stepped toward her in case the man was about to try something. But he pulled out a photograph.
“Lozano hired an assassin to come after you. We’ve lost his trail. Your royal guardsmen need to be aware.” He handed her the photo. André leaned over her shoulder to see.
A large beast, with a tattoo of vines covered in thorns wrapped around his neck and upper torso. Are those black eyes?
“Vasco,” André growled.
Ward’s eyes widened. “You know him?”
“He’s a former royal guardsman.”
Alanna’s chest turned to ice. “Are you serious?”
Ward didn’t seem surprised. “Your loyal guard dog, Stefano, told you that.”
André glared. “Never call him that. He’s the reason we made it back to Solana alive. I’m sure you’re aware we were attacked in Texas after the invasion here. Vasco destroyed Gemma and Rico’s home, and murdered Stefano’s aunt. All of it is this man’s handiwork.”
“Hired by Lozano. He’s an extremely dangerous man.”
Another hired thug of Lozano. But this one infiltrated our own security forces. His reach is everywhere. She wanted to throw up. “Where was he last seen?”
“At the airport in Cebu. Philippines. Eight days ago.”
She swallowed back the bile and kept her impassive expression in place. “Thank you, Mr. Ward. We’ll inform our security team.” Jaw tight, Alanna gestured toward the door. “Frederick will see you out.”
The royal guardsman stepped forward, stern faced.
Ward stared at her. “You certainly took the reins with a firm hand, Your Highness. Your father would be proud.”
She ground her teeth. “Despite what you may believe, Ward, you didn’t really know my father. While he may have been forced to trust you, I won’t make that mistake.”
The corner of his mouth lifted. “Well done. I have no doubts you’ll succeed in the political arena.” He stepped back and looked at André. “And you as well.”
André gestured to the door. “There’s your political arena. Go rumble.”
“You lived in Las Vegas for too long, Your Highness.” With that, the weasel-man left, with Frederick close behind.
Crown of Solana Page 3