Forever Concealed

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Forever Concealed Page 2

by Kathleen Brooks


  Gabe stood tall at the bottom of the front steps to his parents’ house in Keeneston. The house was his childhood home and his parents had always made it feel welcoming, even if it really was a huge mansion. Now that he and Zain were grown, they didn’t live there anymore. They’d lived in a separate house on the far side of Desert Sun Farm until Zain married and Mila moved in. That was when Gabe moved to Lexington.

  Regardless of where they lived, they all came back home every day. The offices for the royal family were in their parents’ house, along with meeting rooms and other diplomatic perks. The two acres that the house, surrounding gardens, and walking paths included was considered an embassy. It was something Uncle Dirar recently insisted on when he began more visits to the U.S. With the increase of diplomatic missions that went on in Keeneston, it was necessary for the safety of all involved.

  “What’s he waiting for?” Veronica asked without moving her lips. She stood well over five feet ten inches in her high heels and commanded respect the second she opened her mouth. While she may appear to be a secretary whose only use was looking good—she was blonde, busty, and had legs that went on for miles—she was a true ball-buster, and not a in a fun way. These weeks had taught Gabe he needed his own Veronica if he was going to step up in the family business.

  Gabe looked at where the stretch Hummer sat about ten feet away. Eight SUVs filled with guards surrounded the limousine that King Draven sat in for the past fifteen minutes. “I don’t know. Maybe he’s finishing a video game. Show him in when he’s ready to come out and act like an adult.”

  Gabe turned and headed up the steps leaving Draven in Veronica’s very capable hands. He wasn’t even halfway up the steps when the limousine’s large door opened and some lackey of Draven’s spoke. “His Royal Majesty, the Commander of the Bermalia Military, the light of the people, His Serene Highness, the King of Bermalia.”

  Gabe kept walking.

  * * *

  Nash caught up to Gabe in the hallway. Nash was the second-in-command of the security for the royal family and had a somewhat amused expression on his face. “The little brat threatened to leave already, but Veronica has him calmed down. However, he wants all of his armed guards to accompany him, and you know our rules.”

  “And so does he. No weapons are allowed inside unless it’s our men carrying them.”

  “I’ll gladly let him know,” Nash smiled.

  “And tell Veronica to put him in the small conference room. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Draven doesn’t need to know that last part.”

  Gabe headed for his office and worried he’d made the wrong call. But as his father had said, the person who wasn’t afraid of walking away held the power. Draven needed to learn his place. Gabe felt bad for his parents, who were playing official hosts to each party for the week. Gabe at least got to leave at night for the anonymity of Billy’s Bar and the quietness of his own home.

  Gabe took a seat behind his desk and read over the checklist of what needed to be addressed during his meeting with Draven. His door opened a few minutes later and Veronica walked in and gracefully took a seat across from him. “Well, I’ve decided something,” she said, crossing her legs.

  “Yes?” Gabe asked, putting the paper down and looking up at her.

  “Tell your uncle we agree to war, and I’ll happily lead the soldiers into battle.”

  Gabe smiled at the vision of Veronica, her long blonde hair released from the French twist, standing atop a tank in a camouflage jumpsuit and heels leading the charge.

  “You don’t think I could do it?” Veronica challenged.

  Gabe shook his head. “No, you could definitely do it. I just feel sorry for Draven now.”

  “You won’t for much longer. The little ass is in the small meeting room,” Veronica said as she examined her perfectly manicured fingernails.

  The door opened again and Gabe’s father, Prince Mohtadi, or Mo as everyone in Keeneston knew him, walked in with a worried look on his face. His dark hair had started to turn gray over the years. In some people, the gray made them look older, but his father just looked more dignified.

  “What is that racket on the second floor? There’s stomping and screaming going on up there,” Mo said, looking up as they both heard a particularly loud thump on the ceiling.

  “Draven has arrived,” Veronica said with a fake smile.

  Mo frowned. “Shouldn’t you be upstairs welcoming our guest?”

  “I would if our guest hadn’t kept me standing outside waiting for him to decide to get out of his car for over fifteen minutes. He only got out when I started coming inside. He kept me waiting for fifteen minutes. I’ll keep him waiting for twenty,” Gabe said, ready to defend himself to his father. This was an incredible breach of protocol.

  Mo snorted in amusement. “I heard he was a prick. Serves him right. And Veronica, bill him for any damage he does to our rooms.”

  “Veronica has offered to lead the charge if we go to war,” Gabe told his dad as he relaxed back into his chair now that he knew he wasn’t going to be lectured.

  “Veronica will be the least of his worries if your mother hears this. Luckily she’s having lunch with the girls today. Dinner tonight should be interesting with Suri and Idris due to arrive this afternoon,” Mo said, looking to the large clock against the sidewall.

  “It’s been twenty minutes,” Veronica told him.

  Gabe stood up and slipped on his suit coat. He walked up the stairs and heard Draven’s tantrum. Nash along with Nabi, who was the head of security, stood on each side of the door, clearly entertained by Draven’s toddler-like rant.

  “He’s broken two glasses so far,” Nash told them. Veronica whipped out a notebook and made a note. Oh, Draven was going to love the bill Veronica would insist be paid by the end of his visit.

  With a nod of Gabe’s head, Nabi reached for the knob and turned it. The door opened and Gabe strode in. He didn’t bother to look up from his notes as he entered. “If you’re done with your tantrum and are ready to act like an adult, not to mention a king, then let’s get to work.”

  * * *

  Miss Lily Rae Rose-Wolfe looked at the full tables of the Blossom Café. She had called a special mother-daughter brunch today for one purpose—to find out who was pregnant and dared not tell her about it. Miss Lily had found a positive pregnancy test on the floor at Sophie and Nash’s wedding after the young ladies left the table in order to dance with their husbands. She intended to shower them in baby blankets and casseroles. But first, she needed to know who they were. Bless their hearts.

  “Sienna isn’t drinking our special tea or the mimosas. She asked for water,” Miss Daisy Mae Rose-Lastinger reported about the first of this next generation of Keenestonites to get married. Sienna Ashton Parker was married to FBI Agent Ryan Parker and was heading toward thirty-three. She had been married the longest. She was Miss Daisy’s bet on who was pregnant.

  Miss Violet Fae Rose-Vasseur, the youngest of the Rose triplets, shook her head. “It’s not Sienna. She’s using psychology on us to draw attention away from who really is pregnant. And that is Sydney. You know they want to start a family, and Syd also ordered a water.”

  Miss Lily looked at the former model-turned-business mogul. She married right after Sienna married Ryan Parker. Sydney and her husband, Deacon McKnight, did want children. And with that blousy top she was wearing . . . maybe she was hiding a baby bump?

  “Mila also hasn’t touched her mimosa. And you know the royal family has been putting pressure on her and Zain for an heir,” Miss Lily said, although she wasn’t entirely convinced.

  “Yeah, but we know she wasn’t pregnant at our birthday party,” Miss Violet reminded them. “However, after two weeks on a private island with Zain, she could be now.”

  “It could even be Sophie,” Miss Daisy sighed. “You know how explosions can get a girl to feeling frisky.”

  The sisters nodded their agreement at the newlywed.

  “Riley hasn’t
announced if she’s running for a second term as our Kentucky House rep,” Miss Violet pointed out. “Maybe it’s because she’s pregnant?”

  Miss Lily tried to zero in on Riley Davies Walz’s stomach. Her former state trooper husband, Matt, had just taken over as the new sheriff. They were settled in a new home after her last one exploded. “Dang. We’ve had multiple explosions, which could all lead to getting frisky. I thought for sure it would be easier than this to figure out who was pregnant.”

  * * *

  Two hours later, Gabe walked out of the meeting room and handed Draven and his entourage over to Veronica. Gabe had not apologized for leaving Draven waiting. Nor had he folded under a second tantrum. Instead, Gabe had simply stood up and started to leave the room. The bluster went out of Draven and the talks resumed.

  What Gabe had learned was that Draven’s father had never taught his son a thing about being a good ruler. Instead, his father had only spoiled him, which led Draven to believe everyone owed him something. It also made him a pain to deal with when he didn’t get his way. He simply did not see what was wrong about going and taking the land he wanted, even though it belonged to other countries.

  However, it was clear he would listen to Gabe. He was in awe of his playboy status since most women in Bermalia apparently weren’t interested in the young king. Gabe’s guess was Draven never showed any interest in a woman. Instead, he simply told her she was going to pleasure him. If there was one thing Gabe had learned over the years, it was that women were to be worshiped. And it should go without saying, you never told them their only job was to service you—Draven’s words, not Gabe’s.

  “How did it go, dear?”

  Gabe turned around in the main hallway to see his mother walking in with Mila. Gabe kissed his mother’s cheek and smiled at his sister-in-law. “Draven has no training to be a king. He is a spoiled child. But I think he’s willing to listen to me. How was your lunch?”

  His mother smiled largely and Mila cringed. “I don’t know what’s going on with the Rose sisters. They’re acting strange,” Mila told him.

  “Dear, they always act strange. That’s why we love them. But lunch was delicious. I need to go welcome Suri and Idris. They were pulling up right behind us.”

  Mila and Gabe hung back. “I’m telling you, something is up with them. They were eyeing us like cattle to the slaughter.”

  Gabe laughed as they began to follow his mother. “Speaking of cattle to the slaughter, be careful around Draven. He has no respect for women, and he’ll probably ask you to service the royal member. There’s a good chance Zain would kill him for that.”

  “He didn’t call it that,” Mila gasped as she giggled.

  “He sure did. Just be careful around him. I don’t trust him, and I’m really glad my sister isn’t here.” Gabe’s sister was interning in Washington, D.C., before picking a career to settle into.

  “I’ll try to steer clear.” Mila looked at him and suddenly he felt as if he were being inspected. “What’s going on with you? You seem, I don’t know, different somehow.”

  Gabe shrugged. “I guess it’s this treaty.”

  “Hmm. It’s something.”

  They walked through the door and Gabe felt Mila’s eyes on him even as he greeted Suri and Idris. He didn’t want to tell his sister-in-law since she’d tell his brother, but Gabe felt different too. If he told anyone his feelings toward marriage were changing, then his parents, the king, and probably the Rose sisters would bug him to death all the way to the altar. While he now wasn’t completely against it, it didn’t mean he was ready to leap without looking.

  3

  “Rock Hill Farm, straight up?”

  Gabe looked up from Draven’s mockery of a proposed treaty and into the emerald eyes of the waitress at Billy’s Bar.

  “Yes, please. And make it—”

  “A double.” She smiled while finishing his sentence. “More homework?”

  Gabe nodded to where he’d crossed out ninety percent of the document. “Something like that.”

  “I hope you didn’t write that,” she laughed lightly. Gabe looked away from the paper and up at the captivating grin of the waitress. “Although it looks like the psychology paper I got back from my professor last week.”

  “Is that what you’re in school for?” Gabe asked.

  She nodded and a lock of curly hair fell free from behind her ear again. Gabe stopped himself from reaching for it, but barely. “Yes. I’m about to finish my master’s degree in adolescent psychology. I want to help at-risk youth.”

  “That’s very commendable. Good luck,” Gabe said, really taking her in. She was around five foot seven inches tall. She had long legs on full display in her shorts and perfectly curved hips. Her breasts weren’t put on full display, which was a major change from the models and celebrities he’d dated.

  “What are you studying?” she asked, ignoring the drunk men calling for her from the next table over.

  “Um, I’m working on international relations,” Gabe responded truthfully. He just didn’t mention it was real international relations instead of some school paper.

  “Ouch. I’d rather work with keeping kids from turning to drugs,” she laughed. “I’ve heard politics can be murder.”

  “You have no idea,” Gabe said inaudibly.

  “Good luck. I’ll get that drink for you.”

  Gabe turned back to Bermalia’s draft and flinched. They’d been at this deal for two days and so far Draven had not budged. Instead, he’d gotten irritated, accused Idris and Suri of trying to steal his land, and threatened war. Draven had also hit on two of the maids to the point that his mother had threatened to kick him out of the house if he didn’t behave. That didn’t go over well. And now Gabe had no idea how to approach the idiocy that was their proposed treaty.

  * * *

  “Because I don’t want to!” Draven said, slamming his hand on the conference table.

  Idris and Suri clenched their teeth and Gabe was reconsidering Veronica’s offer to lead the Rahmian army into war.

  “Draven,” Gabe said slowly.

  “It’s King Draven,” the boy-king snapped.

  “I’ll call you king when you’ve earned my respect. You do see this is a problem, don’t you? You have three countries willing to help teach you how to be a responsible ruler. Not many people can say they have that. You have to earn respect and give respect to receive respect,” Gabe said, almost rolling his eyes at how much he sounded like his father.

  “But I—” Draven began to whine.

  Gabe held up his hand. “But your demand for a border change after hundreds of years of peaceful coexistence is asinine. The border treaty set out generations ago is also stopping Tahjad and Surman from simply walking across that border and taking Bermalia’s land. They are respecting it. Why can’t you?”

  “Because they are hoarding oil that I want.” Gabe didn’t see it, but it sounded like Draven stomped his foot under the table.

  “You don’t have a right to it, Draven. Just like they don’t have a right to your country’s mineral mines. Now, please, let’s use some common sense here. An alliance between your neighbors is in your and your country’s best interest.”

  Gabe stared Draven down in a look he sure mirrored the one his father had leveled at him and Zain when they got in trouble. Zain had bemoaned turning into their father when he became the official backup to the crown over a year ago. Gabe finally understood what Zain had talked about. Something the brothers would never admit after all the grumbling they did as teenagers—the lessons their father taught them were working.

  Draven mumbled but then slumped back in his chair with a roll of his eyes. “Fine. What brilliant things do the perfect Surman and Tahjad propose?”

  Gabe gave Draven an encouraging smile and the boy seemed calmed by it. “Let’s start with reaffirming the current borders. Tahjad has suggested making a travel application for citizens who find the need to cross the borders frequently. Surman, Tahja
d, and Bermalia could become not only trade partners, but allow small merchants to sell more easily across country lines,” Gabe said as Veronica passed around Idris’s proposal.

  * * *

  Three hours later, day turned to night and Gabe looked at a very tired Suri and Idris. They looked baffled at how to explain anything to Draven. Veronica broke the tension as she came into the room smiling.

  “Here is the agreed-upon language, reaffirming the existing borders and then here is the rough draft on the travel application.”

  Veronica moved around the room passing out copies to the leaders and their advisors. Gabe was reading the proposal when the sudden noise of a slap filled the room. His head snapped up to where Draven’s hand was under Veronica’s skirt and Veronica had murder in her eyes. She leapt back, looking ready to punch him as his guards grabbed hold of her wrists.

  “Let her go immediately,” Gabe said in such a chilling voice that the Bermalia guards did so instantly.

  Gabe advanced around the table ready to drag Draven out of his chair and permanently remove that smirk on his face when the king’s guards blocked him. Gabe felt Nash move behind him ready to provide backup. “Hiding behind your babysitters?” Gabe taunted. “You can go after a woman not asking for your attention, but you’re not man enough to face me?” To say things went downhill from there would be an understatement.

  “What do you care? You are known for bedding every woman you want. Detain that woman for assault upon his holiness,” Draven said smugly.

  “For all intents and purposes, you are on Rahmi land, and you have no power here. If you touch her again, I will destroy you. Am I clear? And I won’t have my security force do it. I’ll personally take you outside and kick your ass.” Gabe turned to Veronica who looked ready to hit him again. “You can leave for the night. I’m sorry that this occurred under my supervision. It won’t happen again.”

 

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