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“I don’t think he’s going to take kindly to losing any heir.”
“It might help to know that the Santoro empire is crumbling. Justin told me so. I was the cash cow that was going to save the day. So why don’t you send your merry men out there to find out what sort of target I have on my back because I’m no one’s payday.”
I blink owlishly at her. I knew there were words spoken between her and Justin, something that angered Natalia before he laid a finger on her, but I wasn’t quite expecting this.
“I don’t know if I want to fucking throttle or kiss you.”
“How about you throttle me and kiss me like you did the other night?”
Forgotten are the events of yesterday as I pull her close. I’d burn for this girl, and I would hate myself every fucking day for the privilege.
“He ripped your dress, darling girl.”
“I ripped his throat, so I think we’re even.”
There’s a slight lilt in her voice. She’s riding the adrenaline wave, letting it drip salaciously through her system. I know that will crash, and with it, Natalia will inevitably crumble.
“You’ve got his blood all over you.”
I pull a handkerchief out of my inner pocket and reach for her face, smearing the drying splatters of blood.
“Leave it.” She pushes my hands away. “It’ll wash off once I’m back at the Palace.”
“I’m not letting this dry.” I go to reach out again, but this time I see the places the blood has smeared, dragging her make-up with it, and see the harsh undertone of her cheek. “Natalia, what’s wrong with your cheek?”
“Nothing,” she says, raising a hand to the place I’m staring. “It’s nothing.”
“Natalia, what the fuck is wrong with your cheek?”
This time, my words have a bite to them.
“You’re only now taking notice?” she barks back, knocking the wind out of me. “You’ve seen me multiple times and only now you take time to point them out?”
“Hey, Beck,” Sebastian cuts in, presenting a white manila envelope. “It would appear Justin was a lone wolf and I just got handed this. Had my name on it, but it’s definitely not for me.”
I rip the contents out, keeping an eye on Natalia as she pats her cheek as if trying to hide the purpling just showing through the layer of make-up.
“Who gave you this?”
“A waiter. He’s said it’s been passed around before making it to me. I think it’s pretty obvious what this is to do with.”
The post-it note on top leaves very little to the imagination.
Is she really worth risking it all?
Natalia appears next to me, and she can’t withhold the snicker.
“Well, am I?” she asks, taking the note from me. “Because I would say, looking at this, judgement day is looming.”
She’s not even showing a modicum of the distress that most might, and I have to admire that this world really did harden her, but I also know everyone has their breaking points. Hers must be creeping up on her.
Dropping my gaze, I flick through the stack of photos. Each of Natalia with a hole through her forehead and blood dripping from the hole. This is meticulous, and the threat is very real, but what catches my eye is the location of the majority of them.
“I knew I had an entourage of haters, but this guy wins top marks.”
Ignoring her, I say, “These are all taken inside The Palace.” I flick through them all again. “We’ve got a fucking mole.”
Sebastian shifts uncomfortably. “And another issue to worry about.”
“What’s that?”
“Where’s Alistair got to, Beck?”
