The Royal Elite: Mattias (8 page)

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Authors: Danielle Bourdon

Tags: #Spy, #Contemporary Romance, #Murder, #Love, #Romantic Suspense, #Romance, #Royal, #Intrigue, #Excitement, #Passion, #Adventure, #Action, #Suspense, #Prince, #Espionage

BOOK: The Royal Elite: Mattias
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“I see.” Once Chayton explained, the tension gripping Mattias's shoulders eased. The reasons why he was so on edge about the thought of Alannah spending time with any of his brethren eluded him. Perhaps it was because he knew what they were capable of, or what the darker side of their lives were like. Yet that hadn't stopped
him
from spending time in her company.

For work, he reminded himself. And for her safety. Not because he was jealous.

“Did you two have a falling out?”

“You always were too astute for your own good. Yes, we did.” Mattias went straight to the sidebar and poured himself a stiff drink. It was a little early for liquor but that was the last thing on his mind.

“Over what?”

“The fact that she caught me sleeping with another woman.”

“I didn't realize she had a claim on you to care about that one way or another.”

Mattias took a long swallow, hissing at the sting. “She doesn't.”

“Then why is she upset over it?”

“I really don't know what's gotten into her. We were supposed to meet up at one of the
extra
parties tonight. Now I have no idea if she's going or who will watch over her.” Mattias stood by the window and stared out at the overcast day.

“Is she alone right now?”

“Yes. Except for her bodyguard, whom I'm not sure I trust.”

Chayton pulled a cell phone out of his pocket and tapped out a text. “Don't worry. Between Ahsan and I, we'll cover her this evening. I'll send someone over now so we don't leave a gap through the protection.” He paused, then said, “Damn. My battery just died.”

“Mine's out, too,” Mattias said. There wasn't any way to recharge until the power came back on.

“Either way, we'll cover Alannah's room if she stays in.”

“Thanks. As long as someone's paying attention.” It wasn't an optimal plan, Mattias admitted to himself. Chayton had already pulled an all-nighter and Ahsan wasn't known for his patience with target-sitting.

“They really need to get the power working.” Chayton slid his phone away. He glanced at Mattias. “I've never known you to be this affected by a woman.”

“I haven't either.” Mattias didn't bother to deny it. His relationship with his ex-fiance Viia had been more of a duty than anything. Mattias, in total control of his feelings in that regard, rarely allowed their flare-ups to bother him or ruffle his feathers. Viia was the woman his mother wanted him to marry, and so, he'd fallen in line and done right by his title. Emotions hadn't come into play until after, when he'd belatedly realized that he shouldn't be living his life for other people, no matter what was at stake. The breakup with Viia had been as emotionless as his proposal.

This, however.
This
was a different story. And it bothered him on levels he couldn't name that the flighty, fidgety heiress to a banking empire was under his skin in less than twenty-four hours.

“Are you still attending the party tonight?” Chayton asked.

“I don't know. Because I don't know if
she's
going or not. If she does, and we're all hovering around her room or at the main gala, then we might leave her unprotected at a critical time.”

“I think you should go. We'll cover her here, and if she leaves her room, we'll shadow her as indiscreetly as we can. This way, if she
does
happen to attend the party, we'll have her covered from all angles.”

“All right. With all our phones dying, and no way to recharge, we're going to have to rely on other methods to get messages back and forth.” Mattias would use one of his guards, a man he knew he could trust with sensitive information.

“If it comes to that, we'll send one of our contacts.”

Mattias poured himself another drink. “Then I guess we're set up for this evening. Are you going to be spending another night in Miss Astbury's room?”

“That depends.”

“On what?” Mattias eyed Chayton over the rim of his glass.

“On whether or not
you're
spending the night in her room.”

“She can barely stand to look at me right now. Unless a miracle happens, and she decides to forgive my 'indiscretion', then I don't see that happening.” The reminder of his conversation with Alannah annoyed Mattias all over again.

“Either way, we'll be keeping tabs on her. I have a feeling she's not done with you yet.” Chayton's features tilted into lines of amusement, a brief flash before it was gone.

Mattias snorted. “We'll see about that.”

A trio of urgent knocks brought the conversation up short.

Mattias caught Chayton's eye. Exchanging a curious glance, Mattias set down his tumbler, expecting to see an angry Alannah waiting in the hall. Maybe Chayton was right. Maybe Alannah wasn't done with him after all.

Approaching on silent feet, Chayton snagged the knob and opened the door with an abrupt swing. Instead of Alannah, one of Ahsan's personal guards stood there wearing a sober, serious expression.

“Prince Afshar asks for you,” the man said to Mattias in heavily accented English.

“What seems to be the problem?” Mattias had been around Ahsan's men long enough to know when something was up. Ahsan was not in the habit of sending guards to Mattias or Chayton or any of the other members of the Elite unless there was a problem.

“He has been in an altercation.
Is
in an altercation. Can you come?” The man looked between Chayton and Mattias as he backed slowly away from the door. As if luring them, coaxing the men to follow.

Mattias traded another look with Chayton, this one more bemused than the one before. An altercation? Ahsan, a man of fierce spirit and sometimes short temper,
never
needed help in a fight. Mattias could tell Chayton was thinking the same thing. Why had Ahsan sent for Mattias, unless it had to do with Alannah?

“Where is he?” Mattias asked, as he stepped into the corridor.

“In the great hall. This way.” Ahsan's guard aimed for the staircase leading to the first floor.

Mattias split from Chayton, who diverted toward Alannah's suite, and descended to the main level on the guard's heels. Confident Chayton could cover Miss Astbury for the time being, he prepared himself for the upcoming confrontation.

Chapter Six

Mattias walked into a scene of chaos. In the great hall, where many guests had gathered, he discovered an annoyed looking Ahsan staring down none other than Mumford Cleary. The middle aged billionaire with the paunch and full head of brown hair sported a fat lip and growing bruise over one cheek. His clothing—khaki slacks, baby blue button down and camel colored blazer—sat askew on his body. Security hovered around both men, appearing hesitant to do more than stand between them. Ahsan, as far as Mattias could tell, didn't have a scratch on him.

Guests whispered between themselves, caught up in the unexpected confrontation. Some of the single women took advantage of the situation, sidling close to bachelors and striking up conversation in the guise of concerned curiosity. Antonia lurked at the fringe of the commotion not far from his position, then departed the hall after a waitstaff member whispered something in her ear.

“I
said,
take another step back, boy,” Cleary stated through clenched teeth. He snatched a linen handkerchief from one of his security members and dabbed at his lip. The cloth came away with a minor patch of red.

Ahsan stood his ground, aggressive and unwilling to move. “First things first—I'm not your boy. Second, I'll move when I'm damn well good and ready and not a moment before. Next time, watch where you're walking.”

Cruising into the outer circle of men, Mattias made eye contact with Ahsan, a clear question in his gaze. Ahsan wasn't the type of man who started fights for no reason, and Mattias thought it prudent to find out exactly what was going on.

Ahsan cut a quick look his way, and in that single glance, Mattias discerned this had something to do with Alannah. It could just be suspicion on Ahsan's part, but Mattias as well as the rest of the men had learned long ago to listen to gut instinct. Why Mumford Cleary might be involved baffled Mattias no end. He didn't know too much about the affluent gentleman, and until he had more information, would treat the situation with all the attention it deserved. If Ahsan was wrong, and this was simply a misunderstanding, then no harm done.

“I think it's you who better watch where he's standing. Get out of the way when someone's coming through,” Cleary argued.

Ahsan caught Mattias's gaze again. This time, he jerked his chin a different direction.

While the men bristled and worked through the end of the fight with words instead of fists, Mattias scanned the immediate area, looking for the object Ahsan had directed him to. Three guards hovered around Cleary, all dressed in suits. Ahsan had one member of security blocking him with his body but that was all. It wasn't until the third sweep that Mattias saw the retreating shape of a man heading out of the great hall, walking in that way people did when they didn't want to draw attention to themselves. He could be just another guest, tired of the argument.

Or he could be someone involved with Cleary, possibly the hit man. Either way, something had triggered Ahsan's protective nature, and Mattias would see it through to whatever end.

Cutting away through the crowd after another telling glance from Ahsan, Mattias followed the skulking man and took in the details: tall, lean, dark hair, leather jacket. Sneakers instead of boots. Not exactly the attire of a wealthy aristocrat attending a well-to-do party.

Pretending to be heading the same direction, keeping his pursuit casual instead of predatory, Mattias shadowed the stranger to the stairs and up them. Mattias understood he was aware of him, though the man never glanced back. Not until he emerged onto the landing on the second level.

Mattias purposely looked the other way, as if he had no interest in this gentleman. Only when he had to step past did Mattias acknowledge with a nod of his head. The stranger, sporting ragged features and an overlarge nose, returned the gesture. Though he glanced toward the corridor housing Alannah's suite, the man strode down the same hallway as Mattias. Good thing, or Mattias would have been forced to follow and make it clear the stranger was under surveillance.

Stopping in front of his bedroom door, Mattias pretended to fumble for his keys while keeping the stranger in periphery. The man stopped before the last room at the end of the corridor and entered a moment later.

Pocketing his keys, Mattias retreated to the juncture of hallways and waited for one of his guards. He didn't have time to loiter in the hallway himself to mark the comings and goings, which would only appear suspicious anyway. There was no solid proof that the stranger was a hit man, and to leave off their search could be a grave mistake. Besides that, he needed to have a talk with Ahsan to see what had set the man off to begin with.

Shortly, a guard appeared. Mattias left instructions to observe the hallway, and to shadow the man at the far door should he emerge. Retreating back downstairs, Mattias was just in time to see Cleary and Ahsan split off and go their separate ways.

“What the hell is going on?” Mattias said in a low voice once he stood at Ahsan's side.

“Walk with me and I'll tell you.” Ahsan strode out of the hall but didn't take the stairs. Instead, he angled toward one of the terraces. Exiting through an open set of double doors, Ahsan came to a halt beneath an overhang that provided a dry place to talk. The skies were still dark, rain lashing the earth.

“What was that all about?” Mattias asked after a quick glance along the terrace to make sure they were alone. The gray day left few shadows for anyone to hide in.

“While I was conversing with someone else in the great hall, I overheard that man I had you follow ask about Miss Astbury. It was just the way he phrased his interest, not just to one guest, but a few. Trying to find out whether she'd been attending the gala at night, where her room was. It struck me as odd, out of place. Not like other conversations, you know? So I decided I was going to have a little chat with him myself when out of the blue, that bastard Cleary all but knocks me down. He got in my face, made a real spectacle.” Ahsan tucked the knuckles of one hand into another, rubbing the redness from contact with Cleary's face.

“That's a pretty blatant course of action. Do you think Cleary waylaid you on purpose?” Mattias asked.

“It sure seemed that way. I was enroute to that stranger when it happened. Almost as if Cleary drew me off to allow that other man time to make an exit. Something just isn't right about the whole thing, though I don't have any other hard evidence than my own suspicions.” Ahsan dropped his hands and pushed his fists into the pocket of his jacket.

Mattias drew a line with the pad of his thumb across his lower lip in thought. “As long as I've known you, your instincts have always been right on. I say we keep an eye on the stranger, and maybe Cleary, too, until we have more answers. It certainly won't hurt anything. Leander should have another report soon.”

“That's what I was thinking. If we're on the wrong track, then at least she was protected.” A gust of wind buffeted Ahsan's jacket, flapping the ends around his thighs. Rain misted in past the stone balcony rail, wetting the terrace along the edge.

Mattias regarded the affects of the storm with a critical eye. “We shouldn't let our guard down elsewhere, either. If we
are
tracking the wrong people, then the real threat may find an opening while we're distracted. I have one of my guards watching the hallway, and if the man leaves his room, we'll know about it.”

“I can add one of my men to the mix, so we're covered from different angles.” Ahsan centered his attention on Mattias. “And if it
is
Cleary? If he's the one out for her blood? What do we do then?”

“What we always do. Find a way to make him stop. He's got pressure points just like everyone else. We find the most prominent three and lean on them hard enough to secure a promise to lay off Astbury.” Mattias wasn't a fan of using blackmail as a method or a tool. It tended to be the better option of many because no one had to die. Cold blooded killing was always the last option; the second they stooped to that level, they became no better than the men planning the hit to begin with. It wasn't always a cut and dried scenario, however, and people
had
died in the course of saving another, innocent life.

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