I should’ve hid Marco better. I should’ve simply known she’d react the way she did. I scour the facility for her, but she’s not here.

Relief doesn’t come.

Where would she go once she left this place?

Short of death, she might try to escape.

That thought sends me stalking towards the palace gardens. I consider asking the guards if she’s passed this way, but I don’t want to shed light on the fact that I can’t control my queen. I’m not that desperate. Yet.

She’s not outside. Not in the gardens. Not near the fence.

I head back inside, scrubbing my face. Where could she be?

Her office.

I go there at once. The lights are on, the computer’s running, but Serenity isn’t here. She’s leading me on a goose chase.

I head over to her desk and pick up the thin pile of papers sitting on top of her keyboard.

At first they don’t make sense. I’m looking at a rib cage, a pelvis. Another rib cage, another pelvis. Someone’s gone in and circled orbs—tumors. As I flip through the scans, a horrifying pattern shows up. The tumors are becoming bigger, and more numerous. Some disappear, but those are the minority.

The last image I see is not an x-ray; it’s a color-coded image of the brain. A small cluster of color is circled.

I nearly drop the papers. As it is, I stop breathing.

I’m almost positive that I’m looking at Serenity’s cancer. The Sleeper should’ve minimized or altogether eliminated the growth of malignant cells. But these images suggest a different story.

The papers crunch in my hand. I bring my fist to my mouth.

While the Sleeper can’t cure someone of cancer—yet—it is capable of controlling it. Yet I hold proof it hasn’t done that.

This was a deliberate act of sedition. And it will cost Serenity her life.

Usually I’m a cold, calculating bastard. Not this time. My wrath is a living, breathing thing. Every ounce of fear I feel—and I feel a great deal—fuels it.

Goldstein is a traitor.

“Guards!” I bellow.

They come running into the room.

“Collect Dr. Goldstein and take him to interrogation,” I order.

They leave just as swiftly as they came.

I promised the man that his life was tied to my child’s. Not only did he ignore that warning, he also tried to take Serenity away from me. And he might have succeeded.

It’s time to let him know just why no one crosses me.

NOW I MUST find where Serenity went. She’s a smart woman, she knows I won’t let her die, and it appears she’s figured out before me that Goldstein played us both.

All this time I thought Serenity’s symptoms had been the result of her pregnancy.

Fool.

I’d been had.

The thought brings on a wave of rage so strong an animalistic cry forces its way out of my mouth. Without thinking, I grab the back of the bookcase next to Serenity’s desk and topple it over.

I do the same to the filing cabinet. I hurtle a paperweight across the room, and it punches a hole through the drywall. I can hear my guards running back towards this room.

“Stay out!” I yell.

So help me God, I will kill the first man that comes through the door, and I’ll enjoy it. Lucky for them, they listen to my order.

The quiet drone of the computer catches my attention. The screen is dark but all it takes is a jiggle of the mouse and it comes to life.

Two windows are up on the screen. The first is an informational page on two drugs. A single, chilling word pops up repeatedly throughout the article.

Abortion.

I taste bile at the back of my throat. For one sheer instant I believe my wife rid herself of our child.

Anger, betrayal, and soul-searing fear all move through me, and for one second I feel the devastation Serenity always alludes to. I feel as though I’m losing everything all at once.

And then I remember. The x-rays, the scans. She found her medical file. The site she left open gave her only a definition.

She didn’t seek out the drug; she must’ve found evidence of it in her medical records.

The second wave of my rage rushes through me. Her miscarriage was no accident.

Goldstein killed my child.

I almost leave then. I already know that Goldstein will not die quickly, and I’m eager to see that man suffer as none have before him.

However, the second window catches my eye. On the screen is the palace’s directory. It’s listed in alphabetical order, and about five people and their corresponding contact information fill the space of the screen. Four of the names and faces mean nothing to me. But the fifth one, the fifth one I see almost daily.

It’s my newest recruit. The Beast of the East. Alexander Gorev.

Serenity

DR. GOLDSTEIN AND the Beast of the East. Two traitors who are in communication. Two traitors who are sharing my personal information. Two traitors who’ve tried to kill me—if my assumptions are correct—and succeeded in killing my child.

I smile viciously as I head to the office Gorev uses while in Geneva. This is one of the few times I’m actually pleased with my fractured conscience. I wanted an excuse to kill this sad sack of human flesh. Now I have it.

The random assortment of numbers scribbled on Goldstein’s note referred to Gorev’s fax machine, a number registered in the royal directory.

I don’t bother going after Goldstein. Not yet. The doctor will face my wrath later, once the Beast is nothing more than ashes.

Do these men not realize what I did when my father died? Did they think it would be any different with my child? How cocky both must be to think I wouldn’t find out.