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“His debt has been cleared,” Ariella says with mild disgust. “Was it Julietta that paid it off?”
Ethan clears his throat. “I believe so. I’m assuming the envelope Julietta gave to Kiernan may have contained confirmation of the transaction. Your father helped us confirm our suspicions. He may not be king anymore, but he still has access to a wealth of information. As an advisor to Aaron, he verified that there was a debit for 1.8 million dollars. Kiernan’s slate has been wiped clean, and we suspect that his injuries were punishment for the delayed payment.”
“I’m surprised they didn’t do worse to him, all things considered,” I add.
“Me, too,” Ethan admits. “But Kiernan has proven to be an excellent source of monetary gain for them, able to come up with large sums of cash when needed.”
“If only he didn’t have to sacrifice me and Alex to save his own skin. I don’t understand why he bothered agreeing to hire you guys if he planned to give up our location. This is the selfish side of him I hadn’t seen since we were younger and before Alex was born.”
I pull Ariella into my lap and wrap my arms around her, providing comfort and security as the conversation continues. “Ethan, do you have anything else for us?”
“One more thing,” he says. “When we last spoke, we couldn’t confirm whether or not Julietta had departed on the aircraft bound for Billings. We still can’t. However, my source says there is a rumor going around that the queen is being quarantined in her room because of a virus. Since Aaron and Julietta don’t sleep in the same quarters or spend much time together unless it’s in public, he may very well be unaware that she’s gone.”
“I find that hard to believe,” Ariella says softly, still nestled in my arms. “Aaron may not care if Julietta takes the private jet to go somewhere, but you can be certain that he knows the plane is gone. Knowing my brother, he accepted whatever bogus reason Julietta gave him for leaving as long as he didn’t have to deal with her.”
I grumble, “And now it looks like she’s our problem.”
Chapter twenty
Ariella
My heart breaks at the mere thought that Kiernan has thrown Alex and me “under the bus” just to pay off a loan he never should have taken out in the first place. Now, Julietta has used that information to track me down, and for what? To end the line of succession in a poor attempt at a power grab? The more I think about it, the more preposterous it sounds to me.
Enjoying a brief moment of respite, I close my eyes and lean my head back on the couch. I send up a silent prayer, asking for guidance and clarity as we navigate this path of uncertainty. I want to stop hiding and face my adversaries head-on, but I’m unsure of who they are.
Patrick must think I’m asleep because I feel the weight of a blanket gently cover my body. As I slowly open my eyes and admire his handsome face, my lips curve up gently in appreciation of the gift I’ve been given. I pat the vacant spot next to me.
“I’m not asleep, and you’re welcome to join me. I was relishing the few seconds of quiet I had been granted.”
He sits beside me and places his arm over the back of the couch, giving me the option to cuddle with him. I don’t hesitate, quickly settling into the crook of his arm.
He strokes my skin absentmindedly with his hand, resting his cheek on top of my head. I think he’s fallen asleep, but he finally breaks the silence.
“I thought you were dreaming when I came in here. You were mumbling incoherently.”
“Nope. I was just talking to God. I want to go to battle and finish this, but I feel so unprepared. I don’t even know who my enemy is, Patrick. Is it Julietta? Is it Jordain? I’ve known both of them all my life and never would have thought either one of them capable of something like this.”
“We’ll figure it out together, Ari. You’re not alone in this. In fact, I’d like to show you something if you’re up for it.” He continues to lightly touch my arm, saying nothing and giving me the space to process my emotions.
A few minutes later, I stand up and neatly fold the blanket, placing it in the basket by the fireplace. I hold out my hand to Patrick. “Show me.” He smiles, taking my hand in his and leading me toward the garage.
“Are we going for a drive?” I ask.
“No. There’s another room attached to the garage. It’s my dad’s ‘man cave.’”
“Are women allowed?” He laughs at my question, but I don’t join him. “It’s not a silly question, Patrick. You called it a ‘man cave,’ and I am not a man!”
He pushes me up against the hallway wall, placing his arm over my head. He runs his left finger down the side of my face, neck, and arm until our fingers intertwine. He tilts his head slightly and leans forward, his lips brushing gently against mine. Once. Twice. Three times before he steps back. “No, Ari. You are most definitely not a man.”
“I’m not sure whether or not I should be offended that you felt the need to check,” I tease.
He rolls his eyes good-humoredly. “Your sense of humor is just one of the many reasons I love you. Come on.” He kisses my lips lightly once more before encouraging me to follow him through the garage. I see a door at the far end of the perpendicular wall to my right. Like the door leading to the living space, there’s a keypad entry requiring a code with a minimum of six digits.
I watch as Patrick inputs 12 digits before the door unlocks.
“Why so many numbers?” I ask.
He doesn’t answer immediately; instead, he reaches for a flashlight. “This is an ultraviolet light,” he says, then shines it on the keypad. It takes a few seconds, but eventually, fingerprints become visible. “If someone wanted to gain entry, they could simply tell what digits are used from the oil residue left from touching the keys. Fewer digits make it easier to break the code. We use each number once with a minimum of one other repeated.”
