Page 66 of His Queen

Just when I think he’s about to grab me, my ankle twists painfully, and I stumble to the ground, getting a mouthful of dirt as I gasp. The man launches himself on top of me, knocking the wind out of my chest and crushing me with his weight. I’m scratching and clawing, kicking as hard as possible, ignoring the blazing pain throbbing in my ankle.

His hand clenches my wrist, and the other comes down hard across my face, a sharp pain searing my cheekbone. But it’s not enough to get me to stop fighting.

“You’re wasting your energy, little one. You won’t win,” he sneers, his breath hot on my face, eyes flashing with something dark and primal like he’s an animal about to rip into his prey.

I grimace, screaming, tears spilling down my face. He lodges his leg between my legs, and it feels like my stomach is torn open. His hand bunches the fabric of my nightdress up my side.

“Stop!”No, this can’t be happening. Not again. Please, not again.

His grip on me tightens, cutting off the air in my chest as I scream and fight against his hold. His hand moves over my left breast, and then he tugs the neckline of my nightdress down, exposing my nipple. I sob loudly between my screams, shaking my head wildly, tears blurring my vision while I’m desperately wrenching my body in an effort to get away from him.

Through the flailing and clawing, I manage to clasp my fingers around his wrist, the one holding the knife, and with all my might, with every ounce of strength I have in me, I attempt to push it away, trying to keep the blade from coming closer to my face, my throat.

A gunshot sounds in the distance, and my attacker’s attention shifts for only a split-second, and it’s all I need to grab the knife and yank it out of his hand. His eyes reflect his confusion, which morphs into horror when he realizes what’s about to happen.

I don’t hesitate. I don’t think it through. I act. And with a steady hand and quick motion, I cut the blade across his throat, and time slows as I watch a line of red quickly open, blood gushing from the wound. His jaw drops, and his hands fly up to his neck while a sickening wet gurgle emanates from his throat.

Blood floods down from him and onto me, the hot liquid seeping through my nightdress. My vision blurs as more blood sprays across my face, drenching me in its sticky warmth. The putrid metallic stench rushes up my nostrils, and I gasp for air—that’s when I taste the coppery tinge on my tongue, and with it comes a hard crack inside my head as locked memories burst free.

CHAPTERTWENTY-TWO

MIRABELLA

The night everything changed.

The summer nightheat seeps through my pores as I stand in the center of Mrs. Del Rossa’s beautiful rose garden, my face turned toward the stars, listening to the quiet hum of crickets around me.

I close my eyes and breathe deeply, savoring every bit of tranquility flowing through me. And as I opened them again, a bright shooting star blazes across the sky. Without hesitation or second thought, I seize the moment and make a wish. It’s more of a dream than a wish that I hope will come true. The dream of a thirteen-year-old orphaned girl who wants true love more than anything in this world.

“Mirabella!” Mrs. Del Rossa calls from the back porch. “Mirabella, where are you? It’s time for dinner.”

“I’ll find her,” I hear Nicoli say, and excitement bubbles in my veins. I love to play hide and seek with him, even though he always finds me way faster than I want him to.

Quickly, I duck down on the grass, crawling toward the first row of oak trees. As I huddle behind the thick trunk, I glance around before breaking into a sprint. I love how the fresh air fills my lungs as my breathing becomes labored, the way it burns with every breath. Sweat beads on my forehead, and I’m smiling as I weave through the trees, my feet pounding against the soft earth, feeling alive and free, the way I always do when I’m outside at night.

“Mirabella!” Nicoli’s voice cracks through the empty spaces between the trees, and I chuckle, deciding to run in a different direction, away from the house. Just one time, I want to be able to hide until he’ll eventually give up and I get bragging rights for a change.

I’m filled with so much excitement as I move swiftly, ducking beneath the branches. For a moment, I lean against a tree trunk, trying to catch my breath, when I hear familiar voices. Nicoli better not be cheating by getting Caelian and Isaia to help him.

Inching closer, I see that it’s Mr. Del Rossa speaking with Rocco, his head of security.

Placing my hands against the tree, I stay hidden while peeking around it. They’re standing a few feet away from the family mausoleum, the door open and dim lights casting a beautiful glow through the colored glass. Did I really run that far?

“What are we going to do with him?” Rocco asks, and Mr. Del Rossa shakes his head.

“I don’t know yet. This is a delicate matter. I can’t rush into a hasty decision. But no one can know he’s here. Especially the children.”

“What if someone finds him?”

“No one ever comes here. And I’m the only one with a key to this place. Just let me—”

His phone rings, and I inch a little more behind the tree, ensuring I won’t be spotted.

“What?” he answers. “Again? And Nicoli can’t find her? Yes, okay. We’ll have a look around.” He hangs up. “Seems like Mirabella is playing hide and seek again, and my wife is starting to get worried.”

Rocco grabs his radio and starts speaking into it, giving instructions for everyone to keep an eye out for me. I bet they’re all rolling their eyes because this is not the first time Mr. Del Rossa has the entire security crew looking for me.

I stifle a snicker.Who's the best at hide and seek now?

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