The man grumbled. “Not so much like us, then. Are Grace and this hero truly married?”
“It seems so. All the documents are in order. They were married in Switzerland months ago.”
Mason blew out air. “Not possible. It’s bullshit. A cover.”
“Assuming she wasn’t already seeing him while you were still there. Maybe the little rug rat isn’t yours after all.”
The man swore colorfully. “She was only seeing me. I got her pregnant as planned.”
“But somehow she managed to salvage her reputation and keep public scrutiny away from her father. Nothing we do affects him. It’s time to make the next step in our plan.”
The door to the conference room flew open and a man entered, at least a full head taller than the others already in the room. “I’m sorry I’m late. I had a lead I needed to follow up on.”
“It had better be good.”
“Oh, it’s good, all right. I found the priest who married them at the president’s mansion two days ago. It took some—convincing, but he admitted he’d been sworn to secrecy and paid to forge the documents with a new wing for his precious church.”
“They lied.”
“It gets better. According to the maid, Grace’s new husband sleeps on the floor.”
The man with the glasses piped up. “It isn’t love at all. Vasile hired someone from this HERO Force to marry his daughter.”
The commander smiled widely. “Mason, you come up with a strategy. Find the best way to use this to our advantage before the election. I want Vasile’s credibility destroyed and the public to understand his daughter is nothing more than a common slut.”
Mason shook his head. “It won’t work. The country is in love with the first daughter and her handsome husband.”
The commander crossed his arms. “It will work.”
“Enough of this bullshit.” Mason leaned back in his chair. “Our plan failed. Vasile married her off to escape the scrutiny, and the wedding made him more popular than ever.”
The man with the glasses cleared his throat. “We still have more terrorist attacks planned. He’s taking a beating for those in the news and the polls, and the subway is going to be the worst one yet.”
“It may not be enough. It’s too late in the game for us to be counting on that.”
“What do you suggest?”
“What we planned all along.”
The commander shook his head. “No. That is our last resort.”
“And we are there now.” Mason leaned forward, letting the front legs of his chair slam down. “He’s been warned—we told him what would happen if he didn’t step down. He knew exactly what the consequence of continuing with this election would be.”
He looked around at the men at the table. They were warriors, highly trained to do anything necessary to achieve their goal. But this was different. They were reluctant, and like a dog trainer wielding a choke collar, he needed to pull them along with a firm hand. “It’s time to take the child.”
18
Grace didn't knowhow much more of this she could stand. Nico had been screaming for the better part of the last three hours, and her head ached from the incessant noise while her heart ached for her sweet little son.
Clearly something was wrong and she just couldn't figure out what it was, couldn’t comfort him or make it all better. In that moment, she missed her mother so deeply her eyes burned with frustration.
"It's okay, sweetie," she said loudly enough to be heard over her son’s cries. "Everything is all right." Except she didn't believe that. She was a horrible mother who couldn't even comfort her own son.
She tried nursing him twice, and each time he'd settled for a bit before returning to his wailing, unabated. "I don't think babies are supposed to cry like this. Tell me what I'm doing wrong?" She didn't know who she was asking and she certainly didn't expect to get a response.
"He's just fussy," said Matteo behind her.
She hadn't heard him come in the bedroom. She turned around. "This isn’t fussy. This is irate."