Page 27 of A Fierce Princess

“Call me Anna, please,” I say to him. I love when he’s called me by my nickname.

He reaches out tentatively and brushes a finger over my cheek. “Are you alright, Anna?” he says softly.

I swallow. I’m afraid for the first time in my life. Really afraid.

He sits up and looks down at me with concern. “What is it?” he asks.

I sit up so we are nearly nose to nose on the cushion.

I close my eyes and will myself to tell him. I can’t keep this a secret any longer. It’s his life that hangs in the balance. And my time is up.

“I-I have to tell you something,” I blurt out in almost a whisper. I feel tears well in my eyes because of the fear. Not just the fear that he’ll be killed or someone else hurt, but the fear that he’ll hate me. The fear that this amazing man that I’m falling for will never want to see me again. I curse myself for being so weak, for showing emotion like this. He stares at me in confusion.

“You’ve talked about your mother. Tell me more about your father,” I say to him in a rush to get it out before he speaks.

He stares blankly at me. “I…I don’t know who my father is…well, not exactly,” he starts. “My mother told me she fell in love while living in Europe. My father’s family didn’t approve of her. They were married in secret when they found out she was pregnant with me. They were going to tell people, but then something happened just a few days after I was born. My dad told her she had to leave…that he couldn’t be with her anymore. And so, she left. She took me home to her parents, and I lived there until I was a teenager. Then Mom and I came here. She didn’t want to leave here. Something about it spoke to her or what did she say, ‘it made her whole again.’ I can’t remember. I went back to Pennsylvania to go to college and shortly after she was killed in a car accident there on the island.”

“I know who your father is,” I whisper.

“What?” he says, leaning back to look at me.

I close my eyes again and speak. “I’ve implied my special skill with computers. I’m a hacker, a good one. And, ten days ago, I was looking for something, a misplaced family heirloom. I stumbled into the dark web into a place I hadn’t been before, and I saw a bounty for a life. Curiosity got the better of me because the name was familiar to me. So, I dug some more, and…it was a bounty on your life, Logan,” I say, opening my eyes again to look at him.

“You aren’t making any sense, Anna,” he says. There’s no shock in his eyes, and I realize it’s because he doesn’t believe me.

I take a deep breath. “What’s your full name?” I ask him.

“Logan Edvard Winters,” he says.

“Do you know the name Hansen?” I ask him.

He frowns and nods slowly. He takes a breath. “I think that might be my father’s last name,” he admits. “I saw something once in my mom’s room.”

I take his hand in mine. “Will you come with me?” I ask. “Please?”

I stand, and he allows me to lead him down to my cabin. We don’t say a word as we walk. The only cabin at this end is his and mine. I open my door and usher him inside, looking both ways before closing the door. I put my finger to his lips to silence him, and he nods.

I open my laptop and pull up the documents that I want to show him.

“I believe that this is your real birth certificate,” I say. I turn the screen to face him. He studies it intently and shakes his head. “This can’t be,” he says slowly.

I point to King Edvard’s name. “Edvard Hansen is your father,” I say. “King Edvard Hansen.”

“Susanna, that’s crazy…that’s…” He trails off as he stares at the document. I pull up his mother’s obituary and point out the foundation that was listed for donations.

“That’s his foundation,” I say.

“Yes, she was a supporter of it. That’s why it was listed,” he says.

I sigh and pull up a photo. This one is mine, well, my family’s. It’s a photo of King Edvard, Uncle Eddie, and my father as teenagers.

“That’s my father, and this one is yours,” I say, pointing to him.

Logan stares for a long time at his father. There’s really no denying it. He’s a spitting image of my Uncle Eddie, except for the eye color. He has his mother’s eyes, but the face structure, nose, mouth, lips, hair color, everything is so much like my Uncle Eddie it is a bit unnerving.

“I…How…I don’t understand,” he stammers, sitting back on the bed.

“May I tell you my theory?” I ask him.

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