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Noah: Did Alfred kidnap Sophia?

Unknown Number: Yes. He’s working with Larissa.

Noah: Where are they keeping her?

Richard sends an address along with a room number, and I want to whoop for joy. Then another text comes in.

Unknown Number: You’re in danger.

Noah: Right now?

Unknown Number: Possibly.

I look around, frantically trying to spot the butler, but he’s nowhere to be seen.

Noah: Give me a list of all the people on the yacht.

Three little dots come up when Richard starts typing, but Alfred calls my name…chortling. “You’re falling behind, Flower Girl.”

Whatdid Cassian give him?

I follow Cassian and our host, leaving Noah to do his thing, prepared to stab a thug with a hair pin should one jump out and try to grab me.

“Come along, come along.” Alfred sways down the deck, sloshing his new martini. “Let’s continue our little toury-tour. Do you want to know how much this darling yacht cost?” He lowers his voice like it’s a secret. “One hundred twentymilliondollars.”

“Impressive,” I say, but I’m not actually all that impressed. I mean, yeah, that’s a stupid amount of money. But who needs a yacht?

Cassian steps in close to me, eyes slightly narrowed, and whispers, “I need a yacht.”

“Let me guess. One that’s worth one hundred twenty-onemillion dollars.”

“You know me so well.”

“I’ve heard you can work directly with the company and get exactly what you want.”

Cassian lifts his bottled water to his mouth, smirking. “Good to know.”

I don’t know much about boats, but this thing is enormous. It has eight guest cabins, a master suite, a gym, a dining room, and a small pool. We’ve passed no less than ten staff members, all dressed in nautical white. The good news is that no one has tried to kill us.

Yet.

“So, what do you think of my new toy?” Alfred asks, leading us onto a deck. He chooses a padded pool chair and stretches out his legs like he’s lounging in the sun.

“I don’t think you’ll get a lot of use out of it from jail.” Noah sits sideways on another pool lounger, leaning forward like he’s settling in for a friendly chat. “How about you tell us why Gerald is working so hard to keep Cassian off the throne, and maybe we can request a lighter sentence for you.”

Alfred chuckles to himself, taking another sip of his martini.

“I wasn’t aware there was bad blood between us,” Cassian presses. “I barely know the man, and yet he’s gone to great lengths to ruin me.”

“Did Gerald even get nominated last time?” Noah asks.

Cassian shakes his head. “I don’t believe so.”

Alfred watches the conversation, tipsy and content. “Maybe he’s working on someone else’s behalf.”

“Maybe?” Cassian asks sharply.

Alfred shrugs.