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Perfectly manicured gardens line the sides of the driveway that leads to a magnificent fountain with a statue of two angels caught in a swordfight.
Everywhere there are guards dressed in black combat uniforms that are heavily armed.
The SUVs stop in front of the stairs leading to the entrance.
“Shit, it feels like we should’ve worn ballgowns,” Abbie jokes.
“Yeah.” I see a woman come out of the doors and point to her. “Nope, she’s wearing tights and a crop top. We’re good.”
“Damn, she’s gorgeous,” Abbie mentions.
“And probably deadly,” Elio adds. “You’re not here to make friends.”
“Ugh.” Abbie shoves the door open and climbs out.
I wait for Elio to open my door, and when I step out of the SUV, I glance over the grounds.
There’s so much space, I’m sure it’s easy to avoid any enemies. Lots of hiding places.
“Come, let's go,” Abbie calls. “I can’t wait to see our suites.”
Just as I join Abbie, four guards come out of the castle, followed by Carson Koslov, the director of St. Monarch’s.
“Welcome to St. Monarch’s. I’m Director Koslov.” Even though the man must be over fifty, he’s attractive and has a sharp gaze that settles on us. “My guards will show you to your suites, and I’d appreciate it if you could join my wife and I for dinner at seven in the dining hall.”
Abbie nods. “It would be our pleasure.”
“Thank you for having us,” I add quickly.
Director Koslov nods at us before he turns and leaves us with the four guards.
Elio comes to stand next to me, and when our luggage has been off-loaded, he says, “I’m staying in Geneva while you’re here. If anything happens, contact me, and I’ll come for you.”
“Thank you, but you can go home. Mr. Sartori has a whole army stationed at their vacation mansion.”
“That’s where I’ll be,” my bodyguard grumbles at me. “Call if anything happens.”
Just to appease him, I nod.
Finally, our personal guards climb back into the SUVs, and we watch them drive toward the gates.
“Jesus, I thought they’d never leave,” Abbie mutters, then she aims an excited smile at me. “We’re here, babe!”
We hug, and when the St. Monarch’s guards take our luggage inside, we follow them.
I have a feeling the next four years are going to be life-changing.
In a good way.
Chapter 6
Aurora
Holy. Shit.
Walking into Abbie’s suite, I’m struck speechless.
Presidential suites at the best hotels have nothing on this place.
