Page 126 of His Prince

Daniil laughs darkly and holds up his hands. “Of course. I don’t mean to impose. I was just worried you lost your way…”

His eyes meet mine and something sinister moves through them. I don’t like this, not at all.

“Can we continue to the restroom or do you have something else pressing?”

Daniil gestures toward the hallway, and I swallow roughly, no longer wanting to walk down there when he’s standing at the entrance, almost as if he’s guarding our escape.

But I have to.

Casey seems to think the same thing because he doesn’t let go of his gun and moves us down the hall and out of sight.

“If he makes a move, if anyone makes a move, I’ll end them.”

I nod and shiver slightly, wishing Mikhail was here with me, but he’s still back in the other room. And I’m here without him.

“I shouldn’t have left him, Casey.”

“Gael is with him,” he says softly.

“But he needs to see this,” I whisper and then realize I’m going to have to just send it to him and hope he sees it. With shaking hands, I forward him the picture, because things could end badly at any minute. And I need him to know. And if he eliminates Daniil…well, even better.

We make it to the bathroom and Casey ushers me inside while he stands on the other side of the door. The music is louder in here, something foreign and upbeat. It’s making me a little anxious, to be honest. Almost as if the music is possessed by something. Or maybe that’s the mood I’m in right now. Daniil has soured everything about this trip.

I don’t even have to use the bathroom, but I needto kill a fewminutes so he doesn’t think I’m up to something. Daniil is already suspicious. I wash my hands, staring at myself in the mirror, my face pale, eyes wide.

I need to keep it together. For Mikhail. He deserves the best from me. He needs to have someone loyal fighting for him.

When I exit, Casey is leaning against the wall, his breathing slightly labored, a bead of sweat falling down his temple.

“You okay?” I ask, and he turns his gaze toward me. He looks pale and disoriented. “Oh. Oh no.”

Something’s wrong.

Something’s very wrong.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

He clutches his stomach, and I press my hand against his neck. His pulse is racing, a tremble moving through his body. “What is it? Tell me, Casey.” Panic lines my voice, my heart thumping loudly in my ears. I feel like I’m going to pass out.

For the first time since being married to Mikhail, I’m genuinely afraid.

“I don’t know…”

“Was it the soup? I told you not to eat that. There were fish heads in it.” It’s a Hail Mary, a wish, but deep down I know it’s not true.

“No, it’s…”

He slides down the wall, and I follow him, crouching next to him and pressing my hands to his face.

“Casey,” I say, and he moans, his face pale, sweat slicked across his forehead. “I’m calling an ambulance.”

He shakes his head, but I’m already dialing 911 and begging the operator for help before running back toward the dining area, the phone cradled in my hand. As I race toward it, a waiter stops me.

“Hey. Are you okay? Do you need assistance?”

“No, I’m not okay,” I say, my breathing labored. “I—Something’s wrong.”

The man stares at me, confused before I wave my hand towardthe hallway with Casey slumped over. “Something’s wrong. He did something to him. He’s hurt. Oh my god?—”

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