Spy Girl (Spy Girl #1)

She gives him a noncommittal shrug as sirens sound in the distance, causing her to rethink the situation. “Actually, I didn’t. You did all of this. I was kidnapped along with the Prince and Ari. You saved us.”


Gallagher studies her. Her gown is ripped and torn. Her feet are shoeless and bloody, but her hair is still perfectly coiffed and priceless jewels glitter from her neck and wrist. “I don’t know what kind of look you were going for here, but it’s bloody gorgeous.”

She looks down at herself and smiles. “Thank you.”

“How’d I do that?” He takes a peek out the broken window, where what’s left of Ophelia lies.

“Explosive band-aid to the head. After you took out her guards, she came out of the office with a gun, threatened the Prince, and made you give up the two you had.”

“Fingerprints?”

She raises her hands. “I had on these gloves the whole time. Found them in the street.”

“Weapons used?”

“A wire, a brick, their guns, the band-aid—actually, technically it was a pore cleansing strip.”

“What’s that?”

“You put it on your nose to clean out your pores.”

“Impressive,” Gallagher says.

“I’m really sorry I knocked you out,” she says sincerely.

“It’s okay,” Gallagher says. “But next time we work together.”

The Prince keeps looking from her to Gallagher and back again. “For God’s sake, will someone untie us?”

Gallagher stares. “That all depends on you. Will you tell the same story? That I rescued the three of you?”

The Prince stares back, incredulously.

“I think Miss Von Allister would like to retain her cover, Prince Vallenta. My agency works closely with the Americans, and we had no idea she was an agent. Exactly who are you working for?” he asks, turning toward her.

“Black X,” she whispers.

Ari shakes his head. “Don’t lie to him, Huntley. Sir, we work for the CIA—we’re undercover together. Our mission was to protect the Prince.”

The Prince’s eyes widen, and she can see the hurt in them. It guts her.

“I’m sorry,” she says to him as the sirens get closer.

Gallagher stares at the Prince. “So, do I have your word?”

The Prince nods, silently.

Gallagher finds a rope and ties her to a chair. He waits until the police arrive to untie the Prince, who is quickly whisked back to the safety of his castle.

Ari and Huntley are briefly questioned and then driven home.

On the way there, the radio pauses for a moment of silence in honor of the passing of King Vallenta.

She knows the Prince probably hates her, but she texts him anyway, telling him she is sorry about his dad.

Then she cries.





MISSION:COMPLETE





The day that follows is full of news reports about the Prince’s kidnapping by a rogue terror group, his rescue by an unnamed British agent, the official story of Ophelia’s death claiming she was killed during the kidnapping, and the passing of the King.

Ari and I are besieged with interview requests from reporters wanting to know about us being kidnapped along with the Prince.

Needless to say, we haven’t responded.





Ophelia’s memorial service is held the following day at her church in France. Her sister left Montrovia, returning to France, after shockingly abdicating her right to the throne. Viktor did not attend Ophelia’s funeral and hasn’t been seen since. It’s rumored that he was picked up by the Montrovian government, questioned, and then was allowed to privately mourn the death of his fiancée at his father’s summer home on Lake Como. Intelligence believes he had no clue what Ophelia was planning.





The country and the world mourn together on the third day as Montrovia lays their beloved King to rest. Ari and I are allowed to attend the funeral.

Daniel was taken to the American Embassy from the palace the night of the kidnapping, not to be heard from since.





On the fourth day, I alone receive an invitation to attend the coronation ceremony of the new King of Montrovia. The coronation is held in a massive old church on the castle grounds. While the King’s funeral the day before was all black, this is a colorful affair with much pomp and circumstance. Richly hued robes worn by the bishops of the church, fully decorated military dress uniforms, banners displaying the country’s flag and crest, and a choir in bright red robes. The rest of the guests are in formal attire—suits on the men, long demure gowns and hats on the women.

Although this ceremony is being televised around the world, the actual number in the church is limited. I’m shocked I was invited.

My heart swells with pride to see Lorenzo seated on the ornate gold throne. He stands and is draped in the Imperial Robe then sits back on the throne where he’s handed the Royal Scepter and the Rod of Equity and Mercy. The crown is removed from a gilded platter and placed on his head.