Page 17 of Crowned For The King's Secret

A dangerous word, to be sure, said with venom. She bent over with a sharp gasp. Hesitated for a moment then placed Nic on the floor. He sat there, blinking at everyone standing around him. She took a book from her bag and opened it to a page with a picture of animals cut out and pasted in, and hand-inked lettering spelling the animals’ names in Italian, then English. Similar to other books he’d flicked through on her coffee table, it looked handmade. Had she done that for Nicolai? Like the photo he’d seen of himself, in the blue frame with the word ‘Daddy’ in bright colours, he didn’t understand it.

‘Look at theleone, Nicci. You love lions.’

She straightened and arched her back in a stretch. Seemed to wince, before turning on him.

‘You’ve accused me of things, and I don’t know why.’

He snorted. She couldn’t possibly deny what they knew.

‘What, Sandro? I gave you everything that was asked for, which admittedly wasn’t much. You showed no interest—’

He slashed his hand through the air. ‘You kept him from me.’

The words were said calmly, because Nic was sitting on the floor and he didn’t want to make his child afraid, or worse, to cry again. His tears had scored deep wounds to Sandro’s heart. Still, Victoria took a step back and he immediately regretted the show of emotion. He didn’t want to terrify anyone, unless that fear kept them safe from his enemies.

‘I called the palace.’

Sandro took a deep breath, reining himself in. ‘There is no record—’

‘You, you...ignoramus,’ she hissed.

‘What did you call me?’

Behind him someone coughed, which might have been mistaken for a laugh had he been convinced that none of his staff would laughathim. Still, it was better they did not witness her attempts at his excoriation, no matter how calm each of them pretended to be. He asked Security to leave and they filed out. They’d be waiting outside the closed door should they be required.

‘Oh, so you don’t want your staff hearing this? Afraid they’ll hear the truth? I called you what youare. Try and deny it to justify what you’ve done, holding me prisoner—’

‘You’re not a prisoner here.’

Not exactly. She was...contained.For that, he held not a shred of guilt.

She shook her head. ‘I might not be in a jail cell, but you know exactly what you’ve done.’

The pressure in his head returned, began to increase. He pinched his nose.

‘What I’ve done? You’re being paid by my cousin.’

‘I receive payments for child maintenance, fromyou. Which I put into an account for Nic to decide what he wants to do with when he’s older. You need to listen to me.’ She spoke slowly, as if he might not understand what she was trying to say. As if he was truly the ignoramus she claimed him to be. ‘I called the palace when I discovered I was pregnant. A man came and arranged for a DNA sample. When it proved Nic’s paternity, my solicitors and yours negotiated a parenting and custody agreement. Part of that agreement dictated I wasn’t allowed direct contact with you. I provided monthly reports.’

He hesitated. Victoria looked him in the eye, her posture open, as if she was being truthful. But what she said was impossible. Of course, she might simply be a fine actress...

‘There has never been an agreement negotiated with me. The first I knew of a son was two months ago, when I was advised of his existence.’

She stood silhouetted against the windows, the light from them overly bright. He wished she’d move but she stood as if frozen. Her mouth dropped open.

‘That’s a lie.’

As the light from outside scoured his eyeballs, he manoeuvred till the wall was her backdrop instead. She tracked every move as Nic sat babbling on the floor, looking through his picture book, opened now at another picture Sandro recognised. The castle, bedecked with flags and garlands celebrating Santa Fiorina’s national day. The first national day after he’d returned to his throne. A moment of triumph till an accident had almost ruined everything.

‘I’m not the one telling lies,’ he said, pinching the bridge of his nose. He needed to go. Since the accident, or what they now expected was an assassination attempt, his life had been one of careful control and routine to keep the post-concussion migraines at bay.

Nothing about this situation with Victoria was careful or controlled.

‘I need a working phone, or I need a computer.’

‘Why?’ he asked. ‘To seek Gregorio’s help? This conversation is taking us nowhere. I need to leave, and you need to accept the situation in which you find yourself.’

‘I don’t know who Gregorio is. You think I don’t have evidence of everything I’m talking about? I’ll give it to you, but I need access to technology to do that. I also have to know what’s happening because none of this is clear. You’re saying my life, Nic’s life, is at risk. I need some clarity, because right now, our biggest risk seems to be you.’

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