Page 35 of Stolen Princess

Interestingly enough, she didn’t mention the necklace, which means Genevieve hid it well. It also means that our leaving triggered another alarm that her mother saw on video. It’s a problem if I want to get my necklace back. It’s also a problem for Genevieve, though I’m not sure I’ll mention that her mother contacted me because then I’d need to explain why.

Me: I do have your daughter. I want the tiara back. I know it was you who broke into my house and stole it.

Technically, it wasn’t my house. It’s not even Sven or Lars’s. They’re renting it under a shadow name, but she doesn’t have to know that.

A: Bring her to me, and we’ll swap.

And just like that, red flags.

Me: Or proof of life for proof of life. You show me my tiara, and I’ll show you the girl. If you play ball, I won’t hurt or deflower your pretty virgin, and I’ll bring her back to you in one piece. If you don’t, I can’t guarantee either.

She doesn’t respond, and I don’t know what to make of it, but now, as I said, everything is fucked. I can’t take her back to that house because now it’s too risky. I have no clue where this woman is. For all I know, she could have tracked us to this town. It’s not as though it’d be difficult.

Then there were the other texts that came in. Almost immediately after, which is suspect to say the least.

Lars: You can run...

Because everyone knows what comes after “you can run,” But you can’t hide.

Fabulous. Because why should this get easier instead of harder and more complex?

Does that mean they know where I am? If they’re here, I have to imagine they’d come after me. Same with the woman. We headed south from the forest, but if we had gone north, there’s another town not that far off. It’s reasonable for her to think we could have gone there. As for Lars and Sven, they don’t know where I ended up or about the girl.

Unless they’re somehow linked to the woman.

She broke into the house in France and into my safe while we were out of town. They didn’t have the code to the safe—or so I would have sworn—but somehow she knew it. Have they been working together all this time? I don’t think they knew the tiara was a fake from the start. They never would have let me run off with the necklace if they did. Which means she doesn’t know them or never told them what was in the safe.

They know about the necklace. If they all know each other, does that mean she does too but didn’t mention it? And how the fuck is this all happening at once? The girl, the woman, Sven, Lars, the necklace, and the tiara. I mean, what the absolute fuck, and what are the odds?

Too many questions, and all of those questions are fucking with my retirement.

It’s the girl. I should have overpowered her from the start and forced her to give me the necklace. Why didn’t I do that? I honestly don’t know. Something held me back. From the moment I woke up and saw her, something about her has thrown me off-kilter.

It needs to stop. Right the fuck now.

I got these texts, and when I looked at her from across the store, she was smiling over a purple dress like it was the best thing she’d ever seen, and I found myself smiling too. I don’t smile. Not in any real way. Not unless it’s an act and I need something from it.

Now it’s starting to rain, and I want to get her back to the hotel. I mean, I do, and I don’t. Because she nearly kissed me before all this other shit, and I’m positive I would have kissed her back. I need to distance myself from her instead of wondering if she tastes like the French 75 she’d been drinking all night or the whiskey she bravely dumped down her throat.

Her eyes said kiss me, and for once, my brain knew better.

Smart that was considering the predicament we’re now in.

We leave the store, both with bags dangling from our wrists, and I draw her into my side, holding her close as we brave the rain and run across the street. I’m everywhere, tracking every dark corner, every nook, every passerby.

I want my necklace. I want the tiara too.

And the girl?

Well…

Whatever I have to do, I have to do, right? Isn’t that how it always goes? Considering she’s using me as much as I’m using her, I don’t feel like shit about that either. I don’t.

We enter the inn and go upstairs, my heart beating faster with every step. Once we’re in our room, I lock the door and press myself against it, watching her as she flitters about, hanging up her dress in the tiny closet and holding her swimming costume up to her body, shifting left and right to try to get a full image of herself in the half mirror.

“Try it on,” I suggest, though I don’t know why. Her getting into that thing won’t help anything. It certainly won’t help my dick that’s all too aware that it’s just her, me, and that bed in this room.

She takes it to the bathroom and shuts the door behind her. Thank god. I don’t think about what she’s doing behind that door. That she’s getting naked and trying on a tiny bikini. Instead I focus on what I have to. The fact that there could be people in this inn out to get us. The woman or Lars and Sven.