As they headed in to dinner it emerged that both Emma and Serena were going along to the Sandro’s Cross of Blood initiation.
“But surely such a thing is unheard of,” muttered Liesel. “The society is for titled aristocrats.” She glared at Serena, who was not only American but African-American. Beatriz fought the urge to roll her eyes.
“If all goes according to plan, Serena will soon be a titled aristocrat,” said Sandro, coolly, pulling out Serena’s chair for her.
Beatriz stared. Had her brother just announced his intention to marry Serena? The whole table had fallen silent, no doubt as stunned as she was, so she decided to rush in and end the awkward lull. She turned to Serena. “I wish I could come to the Cross of Blood meeting. Do you know anything about the society?”
Serena, still staring at Sandro, didn’t respond. Then she suddenly whipped her head around, worry in her eyes. “Sorry, what did you say?”
“Just that I’m envious. I’ve always been curious about the Cross of Blood. Grandmama was always very mysterious about it, and Papa always shushed me when I asked him about it.” She turned to Darias, who’d just entered with Emma. “Can I come too?”
“Not this time,” he replied. “With Serena and Emma attending we’ll be quite a crowd. I don’t want to unsettle them.”
“Typical,” said Beatriz with a pout. “You don’t want me there because you don’t trust me.” Maybe they thought she’d share all their weird family secrets with Lorenzo. Not that he’d even be interested.
“Nonsense,” said Darias. “There’s just no reason for you to be there tonight.”
Beatriz felt snubbed. She was his twin sister—his older sister—and Sandro’s new girlfriend got to go? They weren’t married yet. “What reason does Serena have to be there?” She stared at Darias, then at Sandro.
“Because she’s my guest of honor.” Sandro sipped his wine, nonchalant.
“I wish I could be somebody’s guest of honor.” She tried for a brave smile. “I am the oldest Leone here, after all. Perhaps I could be inducted into the society?”
Darias cocked his head. “You know it’s just men.”
“Grandmama was in it, wasn’t she?”
“Only because she was queen, since there was no available male heir at the time her father died. According to Altaleone law that makes her an honorary man.”
Beatriz laughed. You really couldn’t win with this kind of nonsense. Besides, she’d rather be curled up in bed texting Lorenzo than standing around in a drafty, unheated ballroom. “Don’t damage my house with any of your secret activities, okay?”
“Oh, come on, you never even go there,” Darias challenged her. “When did you last even visit?”
She shrugged, suddenly deciding that she was definitely going to renovate the house and start using it. “It was a crime scene, and I didn’t want to visit the scene of the deaths. But I’m planning to do something with the house soon. Grandmama would have wanted me to. She loved that house.”
“She used it as a summer house for maybe five years in the 1970s,” protested Lina. “Your father told me that she loved the summer breeze off the lake but used to complain about the weird sounds the house made. He always thought it was haunted.”
Beatriz shivered. “Have fun there tonight, guys!” she teased. Still, she was going to head there tomorrow—with Lorenzo along for company just in case—to see what might be done with the place. She didn’t like the idea that her brothers had spent more time there than she had. “Seriously though, stay safe.”
“Gibran is bringing a task force. We’ll be quite a convoy of cars. We’re hoping to learn more about the members of this society and see if they’re related to the murders.”
“It all makes me very nervous,” said her mom, putting her glass down with a shaky hand. “I rather wish you wouldn’t do it.”
“We can’t live in fear, Mom,” said Darias. He put his big hand over hers. “We’re going to root the criminals out and make them pay.”
Her mom glanced at Beatriz. “Well, Beatriz and I will be counting the moments until your safe return.”
Suddenly Beatriz was glad she couldn’t go. She knew her mom needed her, and she was happy to be there for her.
Back at home, Lorenzo poured himself a glass of wine and phoned his sister Steffi. Now it was just the two of them he made an effort to talk to her at least twice a week so they didn’t drift apart like so many busy adult siblings.
“Hey, how’d it go with Signora Pazzi?” She’d hooked him up with the seamstress for Beatriz.
“Great. She was almost as quick as Cinderella’s fairy godmother.”
His sister chuckled. “And Beatriz was happy?”
“Thrilled. And she liked the experience so much that she’s working on more designs. She’s very talented.”
“Talented, or beautiful?” Steffi saw him as a bit of a playboy. And maybe he had been once, before he started burying himself alive in work.
“Both, Steff. Like you.”
She laughed. “I bet you charmed her out of her clothes.”
He inhaled slowly, remembering the deep pleasure they’d shared. “A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell.”
“Even to his own sister? Come on. Am I allowed to tell people my brother is dating a princess?”
“No! Her family is very suspicious of me so we’re keeping things under wraps for now. They think I’m just out to get my hands on her land.”
“Are you?”
“Of course not.”
Her silence spoke volumes. She cleared her throat. “Don’t forget I know you better than you know yourself.”
“Okay, I admit that striking lake property—abutting our own lovely mountainside—did spark my interest at first, but there’s a lot more to Beatriz than her impressive holdings.”
“And her sparkly tiara.”
“She’s blunt and funny and very creative.” He smiled just thinking about her quirky expressions. “And surprisingly sweet. I really enjoy her company.”
“I can hardly believe what I’m hearing. Then again, she is a princess. I suppose that could attract even the most hardened bachelor.”
“Who says I’m hardened? And she’s stick of being stereotyped as a princess and nothing else. I’m helping her break out of her stuffy prison.”
“Well, just be careful you don’t end up getting beheaded for treason like great uncle Eldorf.”
“He was not our great uncle. Maybe ten greats ago. Or fifteen. And that happened in Moldavia, not Altaleone.”
“Still…chop chop.”
“I’ll mind my neck if you mind your business.” He smiled, imagining his sister rolling her blue eyes, that familiar half-smile tugging at her expressive mouth. “But thanks for finding Signora Pazzi.” He cleared his throat. Expressing emotion was hard for him but he was determined not to be like his dad, refusing to even feel anything after the loss of his wife during childbirth. “I love you.”
“I love you too, big brother. And I hope you’ll hook me up with some royal designs for my shop.”
He laughed. “I’ll do my best.”
Lina decided to go to bed fairly early, and Beatriz headed to her room to sketch. Lorenzo hadn’t texted her, and she decided their relationship was far enough along that she could make the first move in a text conversation.
How’s your evening going? I’m working on some sketches.
She smiled. It was nice having someone you could text. And somehow keeping the relationship secret made it more delicious.
But when he hadn’t responded five minutes later she decided her text was boring and stupid. He didn’t want to waste time telling her how his evening was going. He was probably out with friends and doing something interesting. No doubt he didn’t have time to respond to her banal message.
She got back to her sketches, which were for clothing to be worn in cooler weather. She was working on a midthigh length garment somewhere between a coat and a jacket when her phone buzzed.
> She smiled, relieved, and picked it up, wondering what Lorenzo would respond. Instead it was from her mom and simply said, Sandro shot. Adrenaline surged through her, and she dived for the door and yanked it open. “Mom! Where are you?”
“Downstairs, come quick.”
She pelted down to where her mom stood talking into her phone with three staff members nearby. She told one to get the car and another to phone ahead to make sure the route to the hospital was clear. Phone still in hand, Beatriz ran to the coat closet and retrieved coats for both of them. “What happened?”
She took her mom’s arm, and they hurried out into the courtyard just as a driver brought a car up to the door. “Something went wrong.” She looked around, glancing at the staff around them. “Someone with a gun.” She was breathless and pale. “He’s alive. A helicopter is flying him to the hospital.”
Beatriz helped her into the back of the car, then dashed around to the other side. “How did this happen with Gibran there?”
“There was an avalanche and snow covered the road right after Sandro and Darias’s car drove through the mountain pass.”
“But there hasn’t been an avalanche there in years.”
“Gibran thinks someone dynamited to trigger it from high up the mountain.”
“So the whole thing was planned.” Beatriz couldn’t believe it. “Why Sandro?”
“I don’t know, sweetheart.” Her mom gripped her hand. “I just pray he’s not too badly hurt.”
At the hospital they were ushered in by staff and brought to an empty room to wait while he was in surgery. Soon Emma and Darias arrived, but no one knew where Serena was because she’d flown with Sandro in the helicopter and wasn’t answering her phone.
“Is Serena a suspect?” asked Beatriz, suddenly aware that she was a virtual stranger in their midst.
“Oh, no, she saved his life,” said Darias. “The shooter was Wilhelm, Dad’s former valet.”
“What?” Her mom looked shocked. “The blond boy? He’s been with us for years.”
“Yep.” Darias’s face was grave. “He’s in custody. I trussed him myself and made sure the police had control of him before I left. Wilhelm was holding the gun to my head when Serena broke a window and distracted him and Sandro tackled him.”
“Where was he shot?” her mom whispered.
“Upper arm and chest area,” said Darias softly. “I’m going to see how the surgery’s going.”
“Okay.” Their mom was doing her best to act calm and not cry, but Beatriz could see how upset she was. She herself felt numb and terrified at the same time. Sandro was the most happy-go-lucky of all of them—she couldn’t imagine losing him. She slid her arm around her mom and squeezed her.
Darias soon came back, accompanied by a phalanx of nurses wheeling a wide-awake Sandro. Lina immediately burst into tears, and Beatriz had to bite her lip not to cry herself. Serena followed fast behind him and Sandro was lucid enough to propose marriage to her, which got everyone else in the room sobbing.
Beatriz was ready to collapse with relief that Sandro would be okay when suddenly her phone buzzed. Evening is rather dull. Wish I was with you. I can’t wait to see your drawings.
Lorenzo! She’d forgotten all about him. She was about to text back—to fill him in on the evening’s dramatic events—when something stopped her. If his evening was so dull, why did it take him over an hour to get back to her?
Maybe he was one of those guys whose affections cooled once he realized a girl really liked him. She hated playing games and was useless at them, but even she knew not to be too easily available.
Gibran wanted to know if there were any other staff members Wilhelm habitually spent time with and who else knew that the Cross of Blood meeting would take place at the lake house.
“No one knew.” Darias frowned. “We only made the plans yesterday. I didn’t even tell Sandro until today. I didn’t mention it to a single member of staff. Wilhelm knew only because he drove us and he had less than an hour’s warning.”
“What happened to the regular driver?” asked Gibran.
“He came down with the stomach flu,” said Darias.
“Maybe he was poisoned?” suggested Beatriz, her mind suddenly teeming with conspiracies.
“Could be.” Gibran frowned. “Was there anyone else, outside of the Cross of Blood members—who we are now talking to—who knew of this meeting tonight?” He looked from Darias to Sandro to Serena to Emma to Lina to Beatriz.
I told Lorenzo. The thought assaulted her like a slap to the face. She hadn’t given it a moment’s thought at the time, but she’d told Lorenzo about the meeting and that it would be held at the lake house.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Beatriz held her breath, brain whirring with possibilities. Nina, the security guard, knew she had been with Lorenzo, but she didn’t know Beatriz had mentioned the location of the meeting to him. Beatriz could say that she’d mentioned it in passing, but she knew that if she said anything in front of Darias he’d jump right down her throat and Lorenzo would suddenly be the prime suspect as the mastermind behind everything that had happened, including the murders.
What possible reason could Lorenzo have for wanting to hurt any of them? If anything, he could be accused of wanting to ingratiate himself into the family, not destroy it.
Lorenzo had nothing to do with this. She was sure of it.
The moment for her to say something passed, and she was pretty sure she managed to keep a neutral expression on her face.
Gibran turned to Darias. “This event is the perfect excuse for us to interview each member of the Cross of Blood. We now know all their identities and have made arrangements to follow up with them.”
“I suppose that’s one good thing that came out of this. They’d always refused to reveal their identities under a five-hundred-year-old law protecting members of religious sects. Now hopefully we can get a better idea of what they’re really all about. Their purported goal is protecting the monarchy, but not one of them tried to leap in and protect me.”
“I think you should stay away from them from now on,” said their mom, softly.
“I won’t argue,” said Sandro. He’d sunk back into the pillows, and Beatriz could see he was in pain.
“We should let Sandro rest,” she said softly.
“Can I stay with him overnight?” asked Serena. She was still holding his uninjured hand and didn’t look like she ever wanted to leave his side again.
“Of course,” said Lina. “We’ll have someone bring over a change of clothes and anything else you need.”
“Not Wilhelm, though, okay?” said Sandro with a rough voice.
“No. Oh, goodness. I’d forgotten that the staff were involved. Maybe I’ll just bring them myself.”
“Don’t worry, Mom. Katrina can bring them. I’d trust her with my life.” Beatriz had known the chief of palace staff since she was her nanny many years ago.
“True. Thank goodness we know there’s at least someone we can trust. I’d never have suspected Wilhelm. He seemed like such a nice boy.”
“I wouldn’t call him nice, Mom.” Beatriz flashed back through memories of him. He wasn’t the kind of person who stood out. “He was quiet and hardworking, which are not the same thing.”
They all stood and promised to visit Sandro bright and early, then filed out of the room and were driven back to the palace. Beatriz was back in her room by the time she realized she never responded to Lorenzo. Not that she could have.
She picked up her phone. Drawings were interrupted by my brother getting shot. Did you tell anyone there would be a meeting at the lake house tonight?
She was about to send it, then realized that if anyone—such as Gibran—looked at her phone she’d as much as admitted that she told him about the meeting. She deleted the second sentence. She changed it to. Luckily he’s okay, but it’s going to be hard to sleep tonight.
He immediately texted back. That’s terrible. I’m so sorry. Glad he’s okay.<
br />
Then: Did it happen at the lake house?
She frowned. So much for her concern about secrecy. And the red flag of suspicion shot up in her brain. What was it with Lorenzo and the damn lake house? Why do you ask?
You told me your brothers were heading there.
I shouldn’t have told you. It was supposed to be a secret. Did you tell anyone?
No. Are you okay? Would you like me to come keep you company?
What? Did he really think that would be a good idea right now? His arrogance defied belief, and she was more accustomed to arrogance than the next person. No. Definitely not! Things are very tense here. Please do not come over.
He was ballsy enough to come “surprise” her or something. Maybe her brothers were right, and he was someone to be wary of. Why was he so pushy?
Don’t worry. I respect your privacy. Let me know when it’s a good time to meet. I’ll keep my distance until you’re ready.
She sighed. Thanks. I’m sorry. I’m punchy tonight after everything that’s happened. I’ll be in touch.
He responded. In the meantime the memories of our last encounter will keep me warm. I miss you.
Her chest tightened. She missed him too. Maybe she could just send him the drawing she did this morning, of the jacket or coat or whatever it was. She was proud of the lines and had some interesting ideas of what to make it out of. She was even thinking of making three versions—one metallicized leather, one trimmed with fur and one with feathers—simple classic lines, each with a bold texture.
Anyone but Lorenzo would think she was out of her mind to consider fashion at a time like this, but thinking about the coat soothed her. Design and creation were her happy place, and she hadn’t fully realized that until Lorenzo came into her life.
I miss you too. I can’t wait to see you again.
The next three days were fairly frantic, with visits to Sandro at the hospital, security grilling all the staff—some of whom had worked there longer than Beatriz had been alive and were in tears at beings suspects—and the flurry of feminine excitement over the prospect of Sandro and Serena’s wedding.
The Princess's Scandalous Affair (Royal House of Leone Book 4) Page 10