Page 14 of Crowned For The King's Secret

How he had come to be exiled was well known. Had she looked him up, it was all there on the internet. Given who she was involved with, he was surprised she’d mention it.

‘That’s in the past.’

‘Trust me when I say, it’s really not.’

They were close to the private airport now. By special arrangement they’d been allowed to drive straight onto the tarmac. Talk of threats to his life in the right ears meant that it had been arranged seamlessly. England had been home for so long, its ties to Santa Fiorina were strong ones. The advantages of power and money were on display today. Soon his son would be away from any risk, whatever evil scheme his cousin had concocted thwarted.

‘Venti minuti.’

His head of security. Twenty minutes. A narrow window to get onto the waiting private jet and leave here.

Victoria looked out of the window as the airport came into view.

‘Where are we?’

An error. Since they’d left her home, he’d tried to keep her focus on him and Nic. He shouldn’t have been thinking about himself and his past when he had a job to do here; he should have kept her talking. She’d know now that they weren’t anywhere near a hotel in London. Although it was better than expected. His security had thought it would take far less time for her to realise things were not as they seemed. He didn’t answer because it didn’t matter. The course was inevitable; there would be no deviation.

‘Sandro?’

He turned to glare at her. There was no need to hide his feelings now. They were allowed to be on full display.

‘It’sYour Majesty.’

Her eyes widened, then she paled. The glow she’d had in her home before they’d left drained away. He knew that look.Fear.

In other circumstances he might have felt guilty. Not today. She’d kept his son from him, linked up with the man whose parents had murdered his family. Yet she didn’t stay fearful for long. One deep breath later and Victoria straightened her spine, narrowed her eyes.

If looks could kill, he’d have expired in the back seat. Nothing could have saved him.

‘Not. Bloody. Likely. Where the hell are we?’

The entourage slowed on a bitumen road, some gates opening to let them through.

‘I would have thought it self-evident. We’re at an airport.’

Sandro’s voice was as cold and brittle as fresh ice over a pond. Stupid, stupid, stupid. How could she have allowed this to happen? Because she’d believed in him. Because she’d hoped that he’d wanted to see their son. And perhaps, deep in her heart, she’d wanted to trust him. To share the joy of their little boy, the miracle that they’d made together. Then when Nic had reached out, recognised his father, wanted to go to him... She was always going to get in this car. Even on the journey, the questions which she should have been suspicious of, given she’d been supplying his envoy written reports of Nic’s progress, the feigned interest...she’d soaked it up like the little fool she’d always been. She should have known she meant nothing to Sandro. That night she’d never been able to forget clearly not memorable for him. Now he’d come to...what? Take her little boy away?

Never.

If only she could call someone. They hadn’t taken her phone. Lance. He was a duke, he had contacts. She grabbed it from her bag, yet there was no signal. She tried to call. Nothing.

‘My phone. It’s not working,’ she whispered, more to herself than anyone else.

‘No.’

One simple word from Sandro and she knew it had been deliberately disabled somehow. Then the real fear began to seep in, cold and choking. She could barely breathe but she had to try to hold it together for Nic, because she was the only one who could protect him now, and hopefully save herself at the same time.

‘Why are we at an airport?’

She wasn’t a foolish woman, but she wanted to hear himsayit. To admit what he was doing. There was a jet sitting on the tarmac. A flurry of activity. People she presumed were security getting out of the SUV in front. She turned, and there were more behind in their own identical vehicle. The door on Sandro’s side opened for him.

‘We’re leaving for Santa Fiorina,’ he said, and got out of the car. She hurled her own door open and got out as well, leaving it open because it was a warm day, and she wasn’t removing Nic from the child seat.

Victoria stalked around the back of the car towards him. He stood talking to one of the many men in black suits surrounding them and she knew she only had one choice. For most of her life she’d been meek, taking what life had thrown her. Now she had a child to protect and she’d decided the day he’d been placed damp and squalling in her arms that there wouldneverbe a time she’d be silent and simply take it, ever again.

‘No,’ she said, perhaps too quietly. Sandro and the rest of the people ignored her. She wouldn’t be ignored, not now.

‘What if Irefuse?’

---