Royal Rock:A Bad Boy Royal Romance(33)

"When did Nicolai join the ministers?"

"Three years ago," I said. "He's a young man, and apparently he came out of nowhere."

"Yes, three years ago. Well, we went back through the records, and we found something."

"Out with it."

"Nicolai Corvin died of lung cancer four years ago." Max held up a photograph of an old, frail man. "This is him."

I stared at the photograph. "That can't be right."

"We don't know who the man who claims to be Nicolai Corvin is, but he is  definitely an imposter. We cleared him because Corvin's name is clean,  but that man is anything but."

"Fuck," I said. "Find him. Detain him."

"Already sent men looking."

I felt another twisting, stressful jolt in my core and began to walk  slowly back toward the house. Bryce had been at the party last night,  and my servants had told me that they saw her speaking with Corvin.  Afterward, she left the dinner and never returned.







I had a horrible feeling. I walked quickly toward the house but couldn't  hold myself back. I began running, bursting in through the door, and  took the stairs two at a time.

I careened down the hallway until I got to her room. The door was shut. I knocked and then turned the knob.

It wasn't locked. It swung open easily. I went in and checked through her place.

It was completely empty.

Max came behind me a few second later, huffing and puffing. "Your Highness?" he asked, confused. "What's happening?"

"Where is Bryce?" I asked him.

"I don't know."

"Find her. Now."

"Very well." He bowed and then left.

As I stood in the middle of Bryce's room, I knew what had happened. I  knew, but I didn't want to admit it to myself. I didn't want to admit  that I could have missed this, that I could have fucked up so fucking  badly.

I was holding out hope, but I knew it was past time for hope and time for more action.





31





BRYCE





Jostling back and forth, I tried moving my hands, but they wouldn't budge. Everything was thick and slow, a muddy mess.

My eyes were closed. I tried to open them, but they weren't working. For  a moment I panicked, until I realized I was wearing a blindfold.

Cold floor. Hum of an engine. Okay, I was in a vehicle of some kind.

I had clothes on. I didn't remember getting dressed.

I tried to move and toppled over to the side. My feet were bound as  well. I groaned, and at least I didn't have a gag in my mouth.

What the hell had happened?

I remembered leaving the dinner. I remembered going into my room and taking off my dress. Why did I take off my dress?

I got into the shower. That's right, I was showering.

Everything after that was a total blur.

I stretched again, trying to get upright, and groaned. My head was dizzy and painful, like an awful hangover mixed with vertigo.

"Don't move," a voice said in clear English. "Chloroform is a nasty drug. You're probably feeling pretty awful right now."

I knew that voice but couldn't place it. I wanted to reply, but my tongue felt heavy and my words came out like a jumbled groan.

"Yes, that's right," the voice said. "You can't really speak, either. It'll come back though."

I rolled onto my side and was jolted suddenly as the vehicle went over a bump. I groaned at a pain in my elbow.

"Not a comfortable trip, I'm sure. Sorry about that. We couldn't take  any chances with you, though. You're our biggest prize since this whole  stupid war started."

I felt someone grab me and slowly sit me up. I tried speaking again. "Who are you?" I managed to say very slowly.

"You know who I am," he responded. "Think carefully, dear."

It hit me. Nicolai Corvin.

"Why?" I asked him.

He laughed. "How could you possibly understand the answer to that question, you American whore?"

"No," I said. "Please." I wanted to say more, but I just couldn't form the words.

"The thing is, I'm not really Nicolai Corvin. The real Corvin was some  asshole lord from my home village. I worked as a footman in his estate.  One day I found the bastard dead as a doornail, and so I robbed all of  his papers and his jewels and his seals, and then I took off. I became  Nicolai Corvin on that day, and nobody mourned the real one. Nobody gave  a shit."

"Who?" I groaned.

"My real name is Freddy," he said. "A little anticlimactic, right? No  special name, because I'm not a special man. I'm a vehicle of the  revolution. We are going to destroy the monarchy and bring freedom to  Starkland."

He was a rebel. This man, this imposter, had really been working for the rebel army the whole time.

"Assassin," I said. "You sent him."

"I did," he agreed. "I really only wanted him to kill Trip, but when I  got word that you were with him, well, I couldn't pass up the chance.  The king killed while fucking his American whore? Too perfect. Shame it  didn't work out."

"He's better than you."

I felt a blinding pain as Corvin, or Freddy, or whoever he was, hit me in the side of the face.

"Maybe," he said calmly, "but I'd watch your mouth."

I groaned and fell over. Corvin helped me back up. "Where are we going?" I asked him.

"You'll find out in a moment. But for now, know this: Rescue isn't  coming. We have you and we aren't letting you go. Your precious king  might ransom you, but in the end you'll be the reason he falls." I felt  his lips close against my ear. "Think about that."







I wanted to retch and vomit. I was terrified, disgusted, and in so much  pain, but I couldn't stop thinking about how I'd let Trip down.

This was my fault. I'd let Corvin grab me. I was stupid enough to get  involved in a foreign king's affairs, and that made him vulnerable. I  was Trip's weakness, and the rebels were only taking advantage of that  weakness.

The remainder of the drive went in silence. Finally, the vehicle  stopped, and I heard a door roll open. Someone helped me out of it,  pushing me roughly.

I stumbled forward, dizzy but feeling better. My mind was slowly coming back to me, and with it came the overwhelming fear.

I had been kidnapped by violent men, and they planned on using me  against Trip. These men had done horrible things already, and I knew  they wouldn't hesitate to do those horrible things to some foreigner  girl.

There was nothing to protect me, save for Trip finding me important. But  what if he had gotten over me already? Would he sacrifice his country  and his kingship just to save me?

I felt someone take my arm and I stumbled forward. "Not much farther," Corvin said.

A door opened. I walked forward. Another door. We were inside somewhere.  Our footsteps echoed. Corvin's hand was tight on my arm. More walking,  more hallways, more doors. Finally, we stopped.

"Sit," he commanded.

Slowly, I sat back. There was a chair behind me.

I felt more ropes getting added to me. I was getting tied to the chair.

Finally, Corvin, or whoever, finished. I couldn't move an inch. Once I was bound, he pulled off my blindfold.

Light flooded me. I blinked it back and slowly the room came into focus.

It was relatively large and steel. It looked like it was in a warehouse  or something like that, maybe an old factory. It was industrial either  way.

And Nicolai Corvin was grinning at me from a few feet away. He stepped  forward. "Now, Bryce my darling, my beautiful foreign toy, it's time to  play."

Fear spiked. I opened my mouth to scream, but Corvin's fist shut me up. I toppled backward, and the world went black again.





32





TRIP





"Your Highness," Max said soberly, "Bryce is gone."

I leaned back in my chair and frowned. I had known he was going to say it, but it still didn't feel good to fucking hear it.

"And Corvin?"

"Gone as well," Max said.

"Where?"

"We're tracking them now."

We were sitting in the situation room, a conference room with high  definition televisions and advanced computer systems surrounding the  central table. Max, Richter, and Al all sat around the table, looking  dour.

"How could this have happened?" I asked them.

"We don't know," Max said. "I have people working on that."

I shook my head, glancing out the window.

This was a fucking nightmare. Some psychopath who had been masquerading  as a lord had taken Bryce, and I had no idea where they had gone. I  didn't even know what the guy wanted or if she was even safe.

She had to be safe. She was worth more alive than she was dead. I had to  keep telling myself that. There was still hope, and they would contact  us soon.

In the meantime, there were other considerations. The main bulk of my  security force had just left, and the estate was at its weakest. On top  of that, I had to wonder how Corvin had managed to sneak into Bryce's  room and somehow smuggle her out of the estate.

We were distracted, that was how. We were distracted preparing to field  the army against the rebel gathering. If we weren't doing that, we would  certainly have noticed. We would have had twice the number of men out  around the grounds, watching every entrance and exit, and Corvin would  have never gotten away.