Page 38 of Royal Affair
"Unclear. Most records are heavily classified or redacted. But there's a pattern of visits to the palace around five years ago, then nothing. Interestingly, the timing coincides with the scandal the palace hushed up."
Five years ago. The same timeframe the kidnapper had referenced.
"Any idea what he wanted with the royal family?"
"Nothing concrete. But whatever it was, it was important enough for someone to bury the records." He paused. "And now his cousin Nikolai Voss shows up and kidnaps the princess? This isn't random, James."
"I'm telling you to watch your back," Harrison continued. "Someone's stirring up whatever happened five years ago, and they're willing to go to extreme lengths."
I ended the call and turned to find Evangeline standing in the doorway of her bedroom, watching me with an unreadable expression.
"Is everything alright?" she asked.
I studied her face, searching for any sign of the secrets she was keeping. What connection did she have to Kozlov? What happened five years ago that someone was now using against her?
"Pack your things," I said, my voice carefully neutral. "We leave for Bellavista at 0800."
She held my gaze for a long moment, then nodded. "As you wish, Mr. Banks."
As her door closed again, I stared at the phone in my hand, Harrison's words echoing in my mind. The woman I'd nearly lost was still slipping away, and now I understood why. Whatever Viktor Kozlov had done to her five years ago was still haunting her—and someone was using it as a weapon.
Whatever happened five years ago, someone's decided it's time for the truth to come out.
And I had a sinking feeling that nothing would ever be the same when it did.
Chapter Seventeen
Evangeline
The weeks following the kidnapping blurred together—debriefings with Luxembourg police, medical check-ups, and the careful choreography of returning to normal university routines. November had passed in a haze of increased security protocols and strained silences. Now, as we flew back to Bellavista for the Christmas season, nearly three months after James had first arrived in my life, the reality of his departure felt suddenly, devastatingly real.
The private jet hummed steadily through clear December skies, returning us to Bellavista. I stared out the window, watching clouds drift beneath us, acutely aware of James seated across the aisle. He hadn't spoken more than ten words to me since we boarded, his attention focused on security reports and his phone.
The silence between us had become its own presence—heavy, accusing, and suffocating. I deserved it, of course. My recklessness had nearly cost both of us everything.
I closed my eyes, but the memories rushed in immediately—the masked man, his taunting voice, the name he'd spoken. Viktor Kozlov. My stomach twisted into a familiar knot of dread.
Five years had passed, yet it still felt like yesterday—the scandal that had nearly destroyed everything, my mother's cold fury, the hasty solution that was meant to silence it all. I believed it was forever buried until that kitten appeared with its ominous note at my door.
I know what you've done, Princess.
The captain announced our descent into Bellavista, and I opened my eyes to find James watching me. His face remained impassive, but there was something in his gaze—concern beneath the anger, perhaps. When our eyes met, he looked away immediately, returning to his tablet.
"We land in fifteen minutes," he said, his voice professionally detached. "Your mother will meet us at the airfield."
I nodded, not trusting my voice. There had been so many moments in the past few days when I'd wanted to tell him everything, to unburden myself of the secrets that were slowly crushing me. But where would I even begin? And what would he think of me afterwards?
The thought of disgust replacing that careful professionalism in his eyes was unbearable.
"Your replacement arrives tomorrow," I said, breaking our silence. "Roger Halliwell. I received an email from Dara."
Something hardened in his expression. "I'm aware."
"You don't sound pleased."
"It doesn't matter if I'm pleased." He closed his tablet with a decisive click. "My job is to ensure your safety until the handover is complete."
"And then you'll return to London."
