Fender carried Gilbert outside and placed him on the grass in the backyard, so he could look at the stars with his closed eyes, ascend to heaven easier. More men were dispatched to the palace, cleaning up the dead men in the hallway and disposing of them. The rest of the staff came from the safe room, unharmed, and the news of Gilbert devastated them all.

It devastated me more—because he’d died for me.

Once Fender knew I was unhurt, he ordered his men to work and left me alone in my bedroom. He didn’t comfort me. He didn’t speak to me. He had a lot more on his mind at the moment.

I was covered in blood, so the first thing I did was take a shower. My nightgown was ruined, so I sealed it inside a bag and threw it in the trash. I didn’t bother to dry my hair or do my makeup. I just sat on the bed with my arms crossed over my chest, replaying the events over and over in my mind. Gunshots echoed. Their voices sounded like they were still in the hallway. Gilbert’s bravery. His dead face. The bloody rug. It cycled over and over—endlessly. Night deepened, but I was too flustered to lie down and try to go to sleep.

Not without Fender.

My bedroom door opened, and I immediately looked up to see him walk inside.

He was in fresh clothes. The blood had been washed off his hands. But he wasn’t in his sweatpants—like he intended to leave. His eyes were soft as they looked into mine, coming to the bed with his heavy footsteps. He lowered himself on the mattress beside me, stared at the floor for a few moments, and then turned his chin to regard me.

I had stopped crying, but looking at him now made me want to cry again.

“I’m leaving.”

“Can I come with you?”

He shook his head. “I won’t be gone long.”

“Are you…getting the people who did this?”

He nodded.

“Please be careful.”

His dark eyes had no reaction.

“But yes…make them pay for what they did.”

His response was immediate. “I will.”

My hand went to his, holding on tight.

He squeezed my fingers in return. “While I’m gone, I want you to move all your things to my bedroom.”

His eyes remained steady as they looked into mine, but mine turned confused.

“I never want to be apart from you again, chérie.”

Eighteen

Machete

Fender

I piled into the SUV with my men, and we left the palace.

I took twenty men—but left forty behind.

With my elbow propped on the windowsill, I held the phone to my ear and called Magnus.