Marcello & Grace (Royals of Valleria #2) (21 page)

Tens of thousands of miles away, Grace ran as Lord Picford advanced towards her. She searched for anything nearby that could help her, anything she could use in defense. Memories featuring Daniel came flooding back.

She’d run and run and run from Daniel, but it had never helped. In her heart, she knew it may not help this time either but she would not go down without the fight of her life.

As she ran into the Temple, she ducked around the couch, forcing him to circle it with her.

“Get over here, you little bitch.”

“No,” she said and felt stronger because of it. Such a simple word with so much power.

He growled. “You ruined my life, and now I’m going to end yours.”

“You can try,” she said more bravely than she felt.

“If Daniel had killed you like he should have, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

“He probably would have, one day,” she said, refusing to let the admission weaken her resolve.

“Then I’ll just have to do it for him,” he said and then lunged at her, screaming.

She easily out-maneuvered him, his girth giving him a disadvantage. Her success was short-lived as he got up and lunged after her again.

Her slim figure darted through the room and towards the front door. Her adrenaline was pumping, her heart was racing, and her palms were sweaty from fear and remembrance.

As she reached the doorway, she heard a loud grunt and felt a tug as his thick fingers grasped the tail of her trench coat. He tugged harder and her feet slipped.

She braced her hands in front of her as she fell. When she hit the stone floor, she cried out as flesh scraped and tore. Another memory flashed in her mind; another floor, another time, another man.

This time would have a different outcome.

Unable to scramble away from him, she twisted to face him while trying to slip off the coat. Her feet, clad only in useless flats and not damaging heels, flailed at him.

“Stay still, you fucking bitch!” he said as he tried to grab her legs. In a lucky move for him, he managed to punch her face. As blackness and stars swam in her eyes, she pushed back more of her memories to focus on staying awake. God only knew what he would do to her if she lost consciousness now.

She continued to flail and, in a lucky move for her, she managed to kick him in the head. In the split second he was dazed by the move, she managed to remove the coat.

When he came towards her again, she quickly pulled the coat out from under her and threw it over his face. The mere seconds it took him to remove it was her salvation.

She skidded backward on hurt hands, then quickly stood and turned at the same time. She ran out the door and down the path, and heard his heavy footsteps falling in step not far behind her.

More memories. Another set of heavy footsteps, another angry voice causing her to cringe. The metallic taste of fear and dread coated her mouth.

She swallowed and pushed back the haunting memories as she reached the stone bridge. She thought of how she and Marcello had crossed that bridge together only days ago, hand-in-hand.

Marcello
, she thought. His name gave her strength. His faith in her gave her strength. His love for her gave her strength. But it was
her
love for
him
that was the strongest of all.

She had to live, had to survive. She wanted a life with him, not a past never forgotten. It ends now. The past ends now.

She ran faster even while her assailant shouted at her from behind. Despite his size, he was able to keep up fairly well with her. She just had to get to the house and the guards.

Instead of approaching the house from the back, she approached the front, where she knew guards were to be stationed at all times. As she got closer, she began screaming for help, for anyone.

But no one came.

No one, except Catharine.

“Go back inside,” Grace yelled as Cat ran towards her.

“The guards are coming,” Cat yelled back. “I won’t leave you alone.”

“Go back, go back,” Grace pleaded, even while she wanted Cat there.

“I’m not leaving you,” Cat said as she finally caught up to Grace and began to run beside her.

Grace, finally willing to accept help, nodded and began moving towards the front door. Just as they reached it, it swung open and two guards went barreling past them towards their attacker.

Relieved that help was here, Grace slowed her run to a stop on the gravel driveway, Cat doing the same beside her.

But they stopped too soon.

Lord Picford caught up to them and lunged at them from behind. The guards were still several feet away when he began to thump their heads against the gravel below. The women turned and threw him off, causing him to land spread eagle on the ground.

The guards approached with their weapons drawn and Lord Picford screamed in frustration. “I’m not going back,” he yelled and started to get up.

Grace, unwilling to let him get away again, kicked him in the balls, causing him to cry in agony. She wished again that she’d been wearing heels.

“Shut up, you useless pig,” Grace said, her breathing heavy and head hot with anger. It ends today. No more. No more.

“You bitch!” he groaned.

“Use any name you want, but you’re going to jail and for a long time, too.”

“I’ll be out soon enough,” he spat at them, his hands still cupping his balls until the guards drew them behind his back to cuff him.

“Not this time,” Grace said smugly. “You have attacked royalty from another country. That sort of crime does not allow for leniency.”

“You set me up,” he huffed.

“You set yourself up,” she said as she approached him once she was confident the guards had control of him. “Even if you hadn’t attacked the Princess, I would have done everything in my power to make sure you never feel freedom again. You don’t deserve it.”
And I deserve better than someone like you
, she said to herself, and finally believed it.

He continued muttering as the guards took him away. After he had been secured and driven away, Grace turned to Cat and gasped. “I’m so sorry,” Grace said as tears formed in her eyes. Her hands lifted to Cat’s face and gently touched the scars and blood there.

“Please don’t apologize. It wasn’t your fault at all. Besides, you don’t look that great yourself.”

“Oh, no,” Grace said as her hands went to her own face and winced when her injured hands touched her injured face. What would Marcello think? “Let’s call the doctor and get cleaned up. More police will be here soon, anyway.”

After the doctor arrived, documented their injuries for the police, and cleaned their wounds, the two went to their respective bedrooms to clean up before questioning. Because Grace’s hands were bandaged, a shower was out of the question but she indulged in a steaming hot bath, assisted by a maid.

When she came out of the bath, she felt clean. Not just physically, but emotionally as well. She knew she wasn’t healed completely - she wasn’t sure she ever would be - but that didn’t mean she couldn’t have a full life. And if that life was with Marcello, she thought as her heart skipped a beat, all the better.

She knew Cat would need some extra time to tell her family what had happened. She wondered if they would have any news about Marcello. Was he all right? Was he back? Was he safe? Was he missing her as much as she was him?

She loved him. She had known that before she left, but her past had held her back from a future with him. No more. If he got back from his mission, they would be together, and that was that.

If
he made it back, she thought with fear and guilt. No,
when
he made it back. When.

Marcello watched as Vlad’s guards approached them. Despite the fact that Joseph and Gregory’s stand-in had betrayed them, Marcello didn’t particularly want them dead. Having them alive and in Valleria’s debt was much better.

Marcello tore at the straps of the backpack he wore. The front fabric ripped away while keeping the backpack’s frame intact; underneath, were knives and a stun gun. With a backpack, people tended to check the contents, but they rarely ever checked the frame for concealed weapons.

One of Valleria’s agents pulled out a gun and shot the men who were leading Joseph and his co-conspirators downstairs. Then they shot the men themselves in the leg to keep them from getting away. They fell to floor on groans of agony.

Seeing that Danica and Valleria’s agents had the fighting well in hand with Vlad’s agents, Marcello searched out the cruel leader himself. He spied Vlad leaving the building through a hidden doorway. With nary a second to lose, Marcello grabbed a gun from one of his agents and ran outside through the front door.

“Vlad,” Marcello yelled as he saw him turn a corner. With his gun poised, Marcello walked slowly towards the corner. He looked for signs of Vlad’s other guards, but found none.

When the hair on the back of his neck prickled, the word ‘ambush’ flashed like neon lights in his brain.

He ducked and rolled around the corner. While all of the guards were aiming high, Marcello aimed low.

He hit Vlad first in the upper thigh, knowing he would only get the first shot out before the guards realized their mistake.

Marcello was right.

Vlad staggered to the ground, gripping his body in agony. Barely a second later, the guards shifted position.

Marcello fired back, killing several of them even while shots rang out towards him.

Some of them didn’t miss.

The force of the gunshots as they hit his chest threw him against the ground, but his hands remained steady on the gun. He continued to fire, and more guards toppled backward, dead and lifeless to the ground.

The sounds of running feet came next, followed by more shots at the guards; his agents had come to save him.

After a few more moments, it was over.

As the dust settled, the ground lay littered with bodies. Some alive, some dead. It was kill or be killed, he reminded himself even while his gut churned. The memory of killing Rebecca’s captor a month ago flitted through his mind before he pushed it back.

Looking back wouldn’t change anything, he reminded himself. Dead was still dead.

“Sir,” one of his agents said as he kneeled beside him. “Are you hurt?”

Marcello shook his head. He let go of the gun and began to unbutton his shirt. Underneath was another Vallerian security invention - the thinnest, most durable bulletproof vest ever made. He felt around until he found the remains of the bullets. He removed five before he was through, and sat up.

“Careful, Sir,” the agent said when Marcello groaned. “Your neck is bleeding.”

With stunned eyes, Marcello’s fingers touched his neck and pulled back to find blood. Fortunately, it seemed that a bullet had simply grazed him, not damaged anything important. “Hurts like a son of a bitch,” Marcello said and then stood.

The Vallerian female agent looked only too pleased as she stood watch over the cruel, misogynistic ruler. “Sir, I’ve called for extraction.”

“Good,” Marcello said as he buttoned up his shirt again. “What’s the status inside?”

“Under control, Sir. The choppers are an hour out.”

Marcello nodded. They had planned ahead for the choppers, which would fly under the radar of Gardar Rus to pull them out. Marcello had no desire to hike several miles through the woods again. The choppers would take them directly to their plane in minutes.

“No problems at the airstrip?” If their plane was maliciously damaged and their other agents killed, they would have to resort to another back-up plan. Marcello had left no scenario unturned in his planning for this mission.

“None, Sir. I’ve confirmed with the pilots and issued a challenge question to verify they were not under duress at the time of confirmation.”

“Excellent,” Marcello said as he picked up his gun again and headed for the building. He knew his agent wasn’t lying to him when she’d said everything was secure, but he wasn’t alive by being unprepared.

As he cautiously stepped inside, he noted all of the guards inside were dead. Joseph and his guard were injured and bound, as was their co-conspirator. Danica’s face sported a blooming bruise and hurt knuckles, but a satisfied grin. Her guard was in similar shape. Marcello was pleased to see Valleria’s other agents with only superficial injuries.

“Well,” Danica said as he approached. “That didn’t go according to plan, did it?”

“It went almost exactly as I’d planned it,” Marcello replied.

“Well, then, what does the rest of your plan entail?”

With a broad smile, he said, “Valleria will take credit where credit is due. Estoria will receive credit as well, if they want it.”

“And if we don’t?”

Marcello shrugged. “What happened here won’t be kept secret. We have already planned to release Vlad’s admission to invade other sovereign nations. We could keep your country out of it for now, but it wouldn’t stay that way for long.”

Danica nodded, considering. “I’ll have to check with my people.”

“We’ve got choppers coming in, so you’ve got about thirty minutes to decide. I’m going to call my people in the meantime and give them an update.”

“That’s not much time.”

“We don’t have any time to waste.”

Danica took in the carnage around the room. “Vlad’s still alive?”

“Yes.”

“I’ve dealt with a lot of shitty people in my line of work, but he has to be one of the worst. I can’t believe he just admitted he was going to invade us.”

“He an egotistical asshole. He thought he’d had us cornered and he got cocky. I thought if I pushed him enough, he might at least insinuate it. We got lucky and he admitted it.”

Marcello paused and thought back through the scene. “Do you know who the third-party involved is?”

Danica shook her head. “I was just thinking of that, too. Who else benefits from us dead and our countries invaded?”

“I’m not sure, but I’d be willing to work with you to sort it out.”

Danica gave him a long look, then held out her hand. “Count on it. I wasn’t involved in this, Your Highness.”

“I believe you. And, please, call me ‘Marcello’.”

“I would never be involved in anything like this. I steal secrets for my country. What I don’t do is plan invasions of our neighbors.”

“See that it stays that way,” Marcello said, knowing that as he stole secrets for his country, he couldn’t fault her for doing the same for hers.

“Perhaps we can discuss this over dinner sometime?” she asked.

Grace popped into his mind and his heart and body ached for her. “A more professional setting would be best.”

Danica shrugged and agreed.

Confident that the area and situation was under control, Marcello pulled away to call his command center from his secured satellite phone, which had also been hidden in his backpack’s lining.

“Marcello?” he heard Alex ask, and was never so happy to hear his elder brother’s voice. It reminded him of home.

“Yes, it’s me.”

“What the fuck?” Alex asked and Marcello grinned. Yes, he was glad to hear Alex’s voice. “We saw the video but it cut off once ten guards started shooting at you.” Alex’s voice turned ragged. “We thought, well, we didn’t know what to think.”

“I’m hurt but not critically,” Marcello said as he pulled out the camera, thin as a needle, from where it was sewn into the hem of his shirt pocket. He could see one of the bullets had damaged it beyond repair. Another invention by Vallerian security that had served him well.

Marcello heard Alex whisper to someone nearby before returning to the call. “What’s the status?”

Going back into military mode, Marcello told Alex what had happened and about the revelation that there was third country who had plotted Valleria’s demise.

“Holy fucking hell,” Alex said. “I’m going to have to talk to father about this.”

“I know. The choppers are about thirty minutes out at this point. Tell me where you want to take Vlad and we’ll see it gets done.”

“He can’t leave his country, not yet. He’s got to be arrested by the International Police Force. If we take him out, it’s kidnapping.”

“Where are they?”

“Based on your advice, we convinced them to situate themselves just outside the borders. I let them know what happened after Vlad confessed on the video. They’re already on their way to you.”

“Will they make it by the time our choppers leave?”

“They should or else be there soon after.”

“I’m not staying in this country one second longer that I need to. As it is, a hundred more guards and Gardar Rus military personnel could be on their way here. We’ve got depleted ammunition and not much chance if more of them come.”

“That won’t happen,” Alex said fiercely.

“The hell it can’t.”

“I won’t let it.”

“Then tell the IPF to fly faster, damn it. I need to get our agents out of here.”

“Hold tight, brother. They’re coming. You’ll be home soon.”

Marcello sighed.
Home
. He hoped Grace would be there waiting for him. He suddenly wondered if there was such a thing as a home without Grace there. He didn’t think there was, not anymore. “I’ll give you a call when we’re on the plane.”

“Do that. I’ll give an update here and work to wrangle the press on this.”

After they hung up, Marcello absently rubbed his chest. Though his bulletproof vest had stopped the bullets, the force of them still left bruises.

“I’ve spoken to my people,” Danica said as she walked over. “We’ll play this your way. You’re right; there’s no sense hiding our involvement at this point.”

Marcello nodded. “Good. Have them contact our staff with the confirmation. We’re working on the press side of things now.”

Danica nodded just as the wind picked up. They both looked up as black helicopters landed on a cleared patch of land behind the building. Marcello and Danica raised their guns slightly in defense. When men wearing the IPF uniform exited and confirmed their identities, then their guns were lowered completely.

With another rush of wind overhead, Marcello looked up to see Vallerian helicopters, flown by men under his command. He knew he wouldn’t relax until he was back on Vallerian soil, and perhaps not even then. As his heart ached and his body thrummed with injuries, he wondered again if he should find another profession. Perhaps one near the slim, fair-haired beauty he was in love with.