to go,” Dante said, handing over her bag of disks. “We’re out of time.”
“But I might not have the right disk.”
“There was nothing in the bathroom. I looked.” Not waiting for an answer, he headed toward the door.
But Paloma didn’t move. As anxious as she was to distance herself from Gomez’s body, she still needed to find that blackmail evidence. But if it wasn’t in the bathroom …
Dante stopped at the door to the suite and frowned back. “What are you doing? We need to go.”
“I told you. I can’t leave, not until I’m sure I have that disk.”
“What difference does it make? Gomez is dead. He can’t blackmail you now.”
“But the evidence still exists. What if someone else finds it? I have to make sure it’s gone for good.”
“We don’t have time. The power’s about to come back on. If we don’t go now, the cameras are going to catch us inside.”
“But—”
“Listen, Princess. Maybe you won’t get arrested if they find us here, but I will. And I’ll be damned if I’ll rot in prison just to cover your royal ass.”
The bitterness in his low voice shocked her. Not that she expected him to like her. Few people in País Vell did.
But his anger seemed deeper, almost personal, as if she’d directly caused him harm.
Stung, she crossed her arms. “I’m not doing this for myself.”
His gaze sharpened. “No? Then who are you doing it for?”
Aware that she’d blundered badly, she rushed to cover the slip. “What I mean is … It’s a bad time for this to come out.”
That much was true. Three weeks ago, a group of La Brigada separatists had tried to assassinate her family in a bomb blast. Luckily for her, they’d failed. But her father had retaliated hard, imposing a curfew on the separatist region and prohibiting gatherings of any sort. Instead of quelling the rebellion, he’d only angered the separatists further, inciting even more violent protests—which had resulted in several deaths.
She didn’t agree with her father’s reaction. She’d tried for years to convince him to modernize the monarchy and enact some badly needed reforms—including granting autonomy to Reino Antiguo, which País Vell controlled. But her old-fashioned father refused to change. She had higher hopes for her brother, but Tristan wouldn’t assume the throne for years.
In the meantime, it was up to her to protect the citizens of País Vell, even if they thought the worst of her.
“People are already upset with my family,” she explained. “If anything bad comes out, they’re going to protest again. And someone else could get killed.”
He still didn’t believe her. Cynicism blazed in his coal-black eyes. But she didn’t owe him the truth. They were temporary partners in crime, nothing more.
“Either way, there’s nothing else here,” he finally said. “It’s pointless to hang around.”
“I’m not so sure.” Still smarting from his derision, she fished the key from the bag and held it out. “I found this in the safe. There must be another one in the suite somewhere.”
Dante strode back toward her. He took the key, examined it with the penlight and gave it back. “It doesn’t go to a safe. It’s the key for a safe-deposit box.”
“You mean in a bank? Are you sure?”
He lifted a sardonic brow.
“Right.” Of course a thief would recognize keys. But how could she find Gomez’s bank box? Where would she even look?
Her panic escalating, she glanced toward the office again. She couldn’t leave here without that footage. She’d never have another opportunity to get in. Once the police realized Gomez had died, they would cordon off the area and confiscate his belongings—eliminating any further chance to find clues.
“At least give me a minute to grab his laptop. Maybe he left some information on that.”
“Five seconds,” Dante warned, his voice hard. “And then you’re on your own.”
Paloma whirled on her heels and dashed across the penthouse, refusing to dwell on Dante’s anger. It didn’t matter what he thought. She had far more to worry about than this thief’s poor opinion of her. Working quickly, she unplugged the lightweight laptop, tucked it under her arm and raced back across the room.
Dante opened the door to the hall and went out. Her pulse erratic, she trailed him into the vestibule and back to the stairwell door. Then she followed him down the spiral staircase, her mind whirling, her soft boots slapping the stones.
What a disaster. Gomez was dead. She probably hadn’t found the blackmail evidence, so her brother was still at risk. All she had was a bank key, a laptop computer and a handful of random disks which might not yield any clues.
And if anyone discovered she’d been in the penthouse …
She shuddered, picturing the media circus that would cause. It would bring back the worst of her scandals, resurrecting the stories of her older brother Felipe’s death—which people still blamed on her.
At the bottom of the tower, Dante paused. “We’ll head to the service entrance. It’s the fastest way out.”
“Great.” She needed to get past those surveillance cameras before the power came on. Once news of Gomez’s death came out, the police would study the footage for signs of foul play—and she couldn’t afford to be implicated in any way.
Dante exited the tower. Staying close on his heels, she ran after him down the hallway, trying to decide on a plan. Once she was safely outside the casino, she could circle around to the main entrance and go back in. She would pretend she’d lost sight of her bodyguard when the power went off and feign ignorance about his attack.
But what about the disks and laptop? How was she going to account for them? There was no logical reason for her to have them, no explanation that made sense.
Unless she stowed them in the bushes and returned for them later. But what if someone found them first? She didn’t dare risk losing the only possible clue to that blackmail evidence she had.
Tightening her grip on the laptop, she pushed her pace, trying to keep up with Dante’s strides. She could ditch her bodyguard completely, pretend she’d hooked up with Dante when the power went out, and have him drive her home. With her wild reputation, no one would question that.
But leaving the casino without her bodyguard would infuriate her father, especially after that assassination attempt. It would reinforce his belief that she was reckless, irresponsible, undoing the efforts she’d made to convince him that she’d reformed.
But what other choice did she have?
Still trying to find a solution, she turned the corner behind Dante and raced down another hall. But
