Page 36 of Prince

Chiara said, “Oh, no, no,” and scrambled after the phone as it flipped away from them.

Dree chased after it, mortified that Chiara might see the threats and figure out that she was either immoral or stupid enough to get mixed up with drug dealers. The answer to that was that she was stupid, of course, but the shame drowning Dree was more than she could deal with just then.

Chiara grabbed the phone off of the floor. “It’s okay. I think it’s okay. I don’t think it’s—”

She was staring at it, reading the texts.

“Oh, it’s nothing. I’m sure it’s nothing,” Dree said, holding out her hand because she didn’t want to smack her phone out of Chiara’s hand.

As Chiara read the texts, her eyes drooped, and her expression became sadder and sadder. “Oh, Dree. This person is saying very bad things.”

“Um,” Dree said. “Yeah.”

“We do not allow this sort of thing here in Monaco. We will tell Colonel Sault.” And she was off.

Chiara trotted through the hallways, reassuring Dree the whole way that this would be taken care of immediately.

Dree pattered along beside her. “I don’t want to make a fuss. I don’t think we need to tell anyone about this.”

“I know you are American and that your government does not take care of you when things like this happen, but we are in Monaco now. You will be safe here in Monaco. We will not let a man speak to you this way.”

Chiara led her through a couple more doors and to another office, where she knocked with an imperative, machine-gun rattle. “Colonel Sault? Colonel Sault! Ms. Clark has a problem we need you for.”

A nondescript, thin man answered the office door. His bristle of gray hair was the same color as his eyes, though his skin was a medium tan. Dree recognized him as the man who’d found Maxence in Nepal and hung out in the back of Max’s office all the time. He asked, “Yes?”

Chiara spoke to the man in a rapid-fire language that sounded like Italian, and she handed over the phone.

Dree said, “It’s no big deal. They’re back in America, and they don’t know where I am. I’m sure I’m not in any danger.”

Colonel Sault—Dree remembered Maxence had called him Quentin Sault—read the texts on Dree’s phone without expression. He handed her back the phone and said, “Tomorrow morning, please present yourself and your phone at our local police station office. I will call ahead to inform them that you are coming, and the technology department will take information from your phone. As you said, Ms. Clark, it is doubtful that you are in any current danger because it does appear these texts were sent from the United States. However, I must caution you to take care until we have more information. Do not go places alone. If you leave the palace, ride in a car rather than walking.”

“Thank you, sir, Colonel, sir,” Dree stammered.

She thanked Chiara for helping her, but Chiara said, “It is no problem. I feel better having Colonel Sault taking care of things. In any case, I shall call a car to take us shopping at my places.” Chiara held up a black credit card with two fingers. “I have already secured a petty-cash credit card for our purchases tonight.”

Chapter Eight

Marie-Therese Grimaldi

Maxence

Maxence was sitting behind the desk in the office in the palace. Afternoon sunlight filled the courtyard outside the window and brightened the room.

Dree Clark was wearing a shorter skirt than usual.

And no stockings.

She’d said a friend with exquisite taste had taken her shopping and picked out her clothes.

Maxence agreed that Dree’s friend had good taste for ready-to-wear clothes. Dree’s other dresses fell to the top of her kneecap, but this particular dress—a dark red, skin-tight confection that molded to her body like thick paint—had only enough material to reach her mid-thigh.

Every time she tugged at the hem, Maxence watched out of the corner of his eye, wishing her fingers were his tongue.

There were several meetings that morning, several secretaries from Monaco’s various ministries and a new ambassador from the Netherlands to be received.

But first, a scouting visit, and it would be an interesting one.

Max could handle everything in the daily life of the sovereign without a second thought.