Page 51 of The High Priestess

Knight straightens up, his eyes glued to my face.

“Santiago mentioned you know mercenaries,” I say while I start to walk toward the door.

“I do. How many do you need?”

“All of them,” I reply. “There’s no way I’m losing this fight.”

Chapter 17

KNIGHT

Cassia only took ten minutes to pack a bag for the trip and hug Marina goodbye.

As we walk toward the tunnel, where the yacht is docked in an underground harbor, I can feel the worry come off Cassia in waves, and her eyes are black as night.

“We’ll get through this,” I assure her.

“I know,” she mutters.

Reaching the stairs, we take them down to the tunnel, and I keep quiet as we board the yacht.

While Cassia greets the captain, I quickly walk through the vessel to make sure everything is in order.

Reaching the deck where there’s a seating area, I find Cassia standing with her arms wrapped around herself.

The yacht starts to move as I join her, and we stare ahead as the vessel is steered out of the tunnel and into the open sea.

After a few minutes, I pull my phone out of my pocket while I take a seat and start to send out messages to everyone I know.

“I thought you didn’t have friends,” Cassia suddenly murmurs.

“I don’t.” Not in the true sense.

Not anymore.

Santiago pops into my mind.

“I have one,” I correct myself. “Santiago.”

“And the men you’re contacting?” she asks.

“People I’ve served with or met along the way.”

“Can we trust them?”

I nod. “As long as they’re paid well, they’ll fight for you.” Her teeth tug at her bottom lip, and it has me asking, “Is money a problem?”

I’ve saved up a few million from all the jobs I’ve helped Santiago with.

The thought jars me, but before I can try to figure out why I’m willing to part with millions of dollars for this woman, Cassia says, “Money isn’t a problem. I’ll pay them double their asking price to ensure they remain loyal to me. Half up front and half when I’m sitting on the throne and the traitor is dead at my feet.”

My eyes lock on Cassia, and I take the anger tightening her features as a good sign. Anger is the best fuel for revenge, whereas grief only drains your energy.

Nodding, I get back to work sending out texts, and one by one, the affirmative replies come in.

When I’m done sending all the messages, I lift my head and look at Cassia, where she’s still standing and staring out over the ocean.

The wind has her dress flapping around her legs, and her hair is blowing behind her.

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