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Royal Heir (Westerly Billionaire Series Book 3) by Ruth Cardello (23)

Chapter Twenty-Three

A short time later, still bound and silenced with duct tape, Rachelle lay on her side on the floor of a large cabin deep in the woods. The royal guards who had carried her in had tossed her to one side, uncaring of how she landed. Rachelle was sure she had bruises, but she’d discovered that adrenaline canceled discomfort. She had never been so afraid in her life.

In the movies it all looked simple. She should be able to wiggle or squirm, release the restraints, and be given some kind of opportunity to escape. The reality she was facing was that duct tape didn’t allow for that kind of wiggle, and fear was paralyzing.

Soon after the guards had deposited her as if she were nothing, they’d walked into another room. She had strained to hear what they were saying, hoping to hear something useful. What she’d heard were several shots fired, then the thud of bodies hitting the floor. Had someone killed them? Had they just killed someone else they’d taken? She had no way of knowing, and asking herself those questions didn’t help.

Was there time to get away? She rolled away from the wall and knocked into the side of a chair. She attempted to rise up enough to inch forward, but her dress slipped and bunched beneath her, sending her back to the floor each time without successfully moving her ahead.

She heard two male voices coming toward her and froze. There was nothing she could do, no way to escape. All she could do was pray they wanted something that required not killing her.

A man who looked to be in his seventies looked over at her and made a sound of disgust. “I wish we could kill her now. We can’t. He may need to hear her voice. Get her out of the middle of the room before she knocks something over.”

The younger man, who appeared to be in his forties, walked over to Rachelle and gave her a kick in the side. “You heard him. Get against the wall.” He went to kick her again, but Rachelle quickly rolled back against the wall.

Although the situation was horrific, she knew it could have been worse. If they wanted her quiet and out of the way, she would do what she could to draw as little attention to herself as possible.

“Did you have to kill the guards?” the younger man whined. “What if we need them?”

“We won’t. No one knows we’re here.”

“Not even the ones we paid to find her? The ones back at the palace?”

“Think, Erwin. Would I leave them alive?”

Erwin shuddered. “Couldn’t we have paid them off?”

“Only the dead keep secrets.”

Erwin looked over at Rachelle, and she closed her eyes. She didn’t want to connect with him. “Are you sure the royal guard will follow us? What if they don’t?”

The older man snarled, “How did I raise such a weak son? They won’t have a choice. After Magnus is gone, we sit back and wait for Tadeas to die a natural death. Or help him along, too, if he lingers. After that, I am next in line for the crown. It’s my birthright. You will one day be king, son. I’ll make sure of it.”

“What if Magnus finds out where we are?”

“He won’t. In an hour he’ll receive a message that his girlfriend is on her way out of the country to be sold off to the highest bidder unless he meets me alone.”

“He’s smart, Father. He won’t go alone.”

“He doesn’t have to. I have enough people in place to take out whoever shows up.”

“It’s going to be a bloodbath.”

“That’s why we’re here. And if it’s done right, it’ll look like he tangled with the wrong country and they took him out.”

“What do we do with her afterward? Are we really going to sell her?”

“Erwin, I need you to start using your brain. She knows who we are. She can hear us now. Does she live or does she die?”

“She dies?” Erwin asked like a child, unsure if his teacher would accept his answer.

“Of course she dies. Your mother was one of the dumbest women I ever fucked, but she was beautiful. If I could go back in time, I’d pick an ugly wife with a brain. Maybe then I’d have a son who had half a chance of holding on to the crown.”

Oh my God. Rachelle started praying then, for herself, for Magnus, for Vandorra, if these two men came into power.

In the early dark of the evening, Magnus left no escape route for his cousin. He landed the helicopters early and drove to the cabin with enough men to form a stealthy, quickly closing perimeter. Every public and private resource available to him was on hand, including a police-force hostage expert.

Snipers were in place, using thermal scopes to sweep the cabin. Two standing bodies. Two prone cooling bodies, potentially dead. One smaller, still-warm body on the floor of the main room. Kill shots could be attempted, but the expert warned that there was too much they didn’t know. Weapons might be trained on her—weapons that might be fired instinctively even as someone went down. Or she might be rigged with a device.

A search of the Pavailler Palace grounds had produced the bodies of three dead men in royal guard uniforms. Davot had the blood of several already on his hands—underestimating him would not be wise.

Magnus took Phillip aside. “No matter how it goes down, you save her. If it’s between me or her, don’t choose me.”

Phillip looked away.

Magnus grabbed him by the arm. “She leaves here alive, no matter what it takes. Do you understand? If she dies, everything good in me goes with her.”

Phillip put his hand over Magnus’s. “We’ll get her out of there.”

Magnus nodded. “We knew he’d be back. We should have killed him when we had a chance.”

“That will be remedied today.”

The hostage expert approached. “Your Royal Highness, everyone is in place. It’s time to call him.”

Magnus took out his phone and dialed his cousin Davot’s number. It rang several times before it picked up. “Magnus?” his cousin asked.

“Yes, Davot.”

“I wasn’t expecting to hear from you so soon.”

“Yes, well, today is full of the unexpected, isn’t it? Whatever you were planning is over. I’m willing to give you the option to live, though.”

“How dare you speak to me in that manner!”

“I dare because the cabin you’re in is surrounded by my men, who will shoot to kill on my command. The only chance you or your son have of surviving this is if you send Rachelle out.”

His cousin took a moment before answering. “Is Tadeas with you?”

“Yes.”

“I want to speak to him.”

Magnus looked to the hostage expert for confirmation, then brought the phone over to his father, who was surrounded by a wall of guards.

The king took the phone, put it on speakerphone, and raised his eyes toward the cabin. “It didn’t have to come to this, Davot.”

“This is exactly what comes when you steal a crown from someone.”

“Your father served his role as regent, and he did it with dignity, but I was the heir to the throne. I stole nothing. Come out, Davot. You don’t have to die today.”

“You think I care about dying? My days are numbered anyway. What I want is for my son to have what you denied me.”

King Tadeas shook his head sadly. “You want something that cannot happen. Send out the woman. Send your son with her. They’re both innocent of this.”

“You think I’m a fool? I send her out and I get nothing I want.”

“Your son lives. You might even live. Isn’t that what matters most?”

“This morning it might have, but not now. Maybe this is a better way for it to go. Tell your son the only way I send the woman out is if he comes in.”

Phillip spoke to the hostage expert, then said to Magnus, “You can’t go in. We lose all control if you do.”

Magnus asked for a bulletproof vest and conferred with the expert. “Tell him I need to see her. Tell him I don’t believe she’s alive.”

King Tadeas said, “My son will go nowhere near the cabin unless we know she’s alive.”

Davot snarled, “No, I am not sending you out, Erwin. You will stay and fight like a man, for once in your pathetic life.”

A moment later, Rachelle yelled, “Don’t send Magnus in. He’ll kill us both.” She cried out as if someone hurt her, and Magnus fought not to charge in right then. Instead, he secured the vest and motioned to his men that he was heading toward the cabin. Nothing would be achieved by staying where he was.

His father called to him, “Magnus.”

Delinda rushed forward, whispering, “Be careful.”

Magnus said, “I will.”

Phillip stepped closer and spoke softly. “All we need is a clean kill shot, Magnus. Get us one and it’s over.”

Magnus took the phone from his father. “You want my crown? I’ll abdicate. All I want is Rachelle.”

Davot said coldly, “He’s lying, Erwin. No, it’s not worth a risk. You think either of us are getting out of here alive?”

“You still can,” Magnus said as he walked closer to the cabin. “I could have killed you the first time, and I didn’t. I don’t want blood on my hands. Give me Rachelle, and you and your son will be free to leave, as long as you don’t return to Vandorra.”

“Shut up, Erwin. It’s impossible to think when you whine like that. I don’t want the woman, Magnus. I want you. Come in and I’ll release her.”

Magnus stood at the bottom of the porch. “Show her to me now. How do I know you didn’t just kill her? I’m not taking another step forward unless I can see her.”

The door opened. Davot held Rachelle by her hair in front of the open door, still bound at her feet, hands behind her back. She met Magnus’s eyes across the short distance. He had never seen a braver woman. He couldn’t tell her what to do, but he motioned quickly with his eyes for her to drop. With that, she threw her head back then forward violently, and fell to the floor when she broke free.

Magnus rushed forward, and a shot whizzed by him, piercing the wall and taking his older cousin out. A wave of movement crested behind Magnus as he reached Rachelle and pulled her off the floor. Erwin grabbed a gun and got off a shot at Magnus before he was also taken down by a sniper.

Hugging Rachelle to his chest, Magnus sheltered her from the sight of his men, ensuring neither cousin would ever be a problem again. He looked her over quickly. Her face was bruised, and she was probably in shock, but otherwise she looked unhurt.

He dropped to his knees and unbound her legs and arms. Once she was freed, he pulled her into his arms again and held her tightly, rocking her back and forth as he blinked back tears of relief. Only now that she was safe did he allow himself to face how close he’d come to losing her.

Delinda appeared beside them, her face wet from her tears. She touched Magnus’s arm in a silent request. He stepped back.

“I love you so much, Rachelle,” Delinda said as she wrapped her arms around her granddaughter and wept. “I’m so sorry.”

Rachelle burst into tears then. “I know, Grandmother. I love you, too.”

His father ordered the men to clean up the area while Phillip guided Magnus, Delinda, and Rachelle away from the scene. SUVs pulled up to whisk them away.

Phillip stood beside Magnus. “Do you want me here or at the hospital?”

“Hospital?” Magnus asked, looking over Rachelle again, this time noticing blood on her dress and face—more blood than he remembered.

“You’ve been shot, Magnus. Your arm.” Phillip called to a man to bring a roll of bandage over.

Only when Magnus looked down and saw the blood running down from a hole in his upper arm did it begin to hurt. It also made him unsteady on his feet. He’d never been good with the sight of his own blood.

“Is he okay?” Magnus heard Rachelle ask as if from inside a tunnel. He knew he should look away from his wound, but the world around it became dimmer and dimmer until he saw nothing at all.