Page 42 of Ruthless Empire

“Of course.”

“Keep me posted.”

“Always.”

I hang up. Our conversations are always short and to the point. I like that about him. He knows he is where he is because of my support and bends over backwards to ensure my money hasn’t gone to waste. I know he will do whatever needs doing to make sure that Esteria finds itself in a political mess. It is situated above Arachon, a small yet powerful state on the Italian border, where I find there are interests worth pursuing. Viktor Di’Castello is Arachon’s reigning Prince, but that doesn’t concern me. His loyalty will lie with Solitaire, or he will find himself in a war with Solitaire-backed Esteria. I’m sure that is something he will wish to avoid at all costs. The time will come when I will harden my approach with Esteria’s opposing party. So far, it has been gentle and supportive, but soon, we must escalate tensions so the chess pieces of the small European Sovereign States fall under my rule.

Satisfied with my conversation with the Prime Minister, I sit back and contemplate Dante DeVare and how the fuck he found me. I guess it’s a question I will ask when he, I’m sure, sooner rather than later, shows back up here for a confrontation that has been brewing for over a decade. I’m looking forward to kicking his arse the way I should’ve done all those years ago.

But, in the meantime, I have something else that is pressing against my patience.

Rising, I leave my office for my bedroom, pulling the diamond bracelet out of the top drawer of my dresser.

Giving it another once-over, I pull out a red rose from the vase of fresh flowers that Sophia placed there only two days ago. Next, I grab a pen and some paper from the dresser and, with a smile, compile a poem that will make Isla laugh, if nothing else.

Roses are red,

These diamonds do gleam;

They’d look good on you,

And your chicken dinner is a dream

Folding the piece of paper over, I pick up the rose and the bracelet and sneak back into the hallway, keeping an eye out for Isla.

Hearing the vacuum downstairs, I slip into her bedroom and look around. Deciding to leave the gifts on her pillow, I lay them down, arranging the bracelet and rose to perfection. Knowing I owe her an apology for snapping at her earlier, I will do that once she confronts me about the gifts. I’m very interested in her reaction, as it will tell me a lot about her. But for now, I will wait with anticipation.

25

ISLA

Ihave never vacuumed a carpet to within an inch of its life before, but that man has pissed me off so intensely, I want to ruin his gorgeous floor covering. How dare he snap at me and tell me to get back to work like I’m a child? Ugh!

He’s more than just a helpless idiot now. He’s an idiotic, helpless dickhead.

Working up a sweat, I huff out a breath and turn the vacuum off. I think the living room, or whatever you call this room in a castle, is done now.

Wiping my brow, I check the time. I’ve been at this for about two hours now, and I’m beat. There is no way I can clean the entire castle from top to bottom every single day. I’ll be dead by the end of the week. I’m going to have to work up a roster, and some rooms are just going to have to skip a day or two.

Deciding to get on that while I have a much needed sit down, I take the stairs slowly and enter my bedroom, closing the door behind me. Crossing to the dresser, I pull out my notebook and favourite pen. Turning to the bed, I see something on the pillow and frown. Moving over to see what it is, I clench my jaw and snatch up the single red rose and glare at the bracelet laid out neatly with it. The piece of paper is folded, and I swear it had better have an apology written on it by hand.

Opening it up, I read the short poem and snicker despite my anger at Gideon.

“Jesus. You are not Shakespeare.”

But inside, I’m all warm and fuzzy. It’s sweet, and while the gift is far too extravagant, I can’t accept it. I appreciate the flower and note, although I have yet to see an actual “I’m sorry for being an arsehole” anywhere.

Lifting the bracelet up to the light, I inspect it. It’s absolutely gorgeous, but what is he thinking? This is so inappropriate, I can’t even begin to count all the reasons why.

“Sorry, but you are going back,” I murmur and, placing the rose and paper down, I leave my bedroom and march down the hallway to Gideon’s bedroom.

Knocking loudly, I wait for a reply. When he opens the door, he has a broad grin on his face.

Holding up the bracelet, I arrange my face into a severe frown. “I can’t accept this.”

“Why not?” He leans casually against the door frame.

I try not to gaze lustily at him in his joggers and tight tee, but the sight of slippers on his feet makes me hold onto the giggle threatening to erupt. “It’s ridiculous,” I snap, maybe too harshly, as I try to tone down the arousal. “You can’t buy me off. Words, Gideon. I need words. And what? You just have this lying around to give to the help?” I thrust it at him.

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