Page 83 of Trapped with the Undercover Prince

Anna stood straight and stiff next to him. “I’d like to take a shower, please.”

Zar swore a blue streak in his head but managed to keep the vitriol in there and sound calm when he said, “Of course, a hot shower, comfy pajamas, and some chocolate are in order.”

Brigette blinked at him.

“Don’t look so surprised,” he said. “Believe it or not, I paid attention to how you recovered from upsetting incidents once or twice when we were growing up.”

“You are a man of many talents today, little brother.”

“Surprise,” he said, deadpan.

Anna choked on a chuckle. “Don’t make me laugh.” She covered her mouth with one hand. Her shoulders shook, but he didn’t think it was all from humor.

He put his arm around her and pulled her along with him as he started walking for his suite. He didn’t care if his mother yelled at him; he wasn’t leaving her alone or with anyone else this time.

“Zar,” Brigette said as she followed them. “You’re needed in the war room.”

“Anna and I will be there after we freshen up.”

“Zar—” Brigette began.

He interrupted her. “We won’t be long.”

His sister sighed. “I’ll tell Mother.”

A moment later, he and Anna were alone.

A sob worked its way out of her. “Zar?”

“We’re almost to my room,” he said, kissing her temple.

“I’m s...sorry.”

“Anton made his own choices, and he paid for them dearly. There was nothing you or anyone else could have done.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about.”

They reached his door, and he ushered her inside, then closed and locked the door.

He turned, and she was there, her face buried against his shoulder, her arms around him tight.

He enfolded her in his arms and breathed in the scent of her hair and skin, letting it calm his racing heart. He hadn’t even known how stressed he was until this moment.

Another sob made its way out, then an avalanche of them were pouring out of her.

“You’re okay,” he whispered to her over and over.

“Stop saying that,” she croaked out, smacking one palm against his arm. “You were the one he wanted to shoot. You were the one he was going to kill, and for what?” She pulled away and threw her hands in the air. “For what?”

“Greed has always been one of the worst afflictions.”

“That’s what it’s always about...power.” She shook her head. “I don’t understand how anyone can convince themselves that murder and terror is justified, all for something that is all too fleeting.”

“I don’t know if it’s narcissism or something else, but there are always going to be people who believe the rules of morality and social justice don’t apply to them.”

“Stupid.” Her gaze was so bleak and cold it sent a shiver across his body.

“Come on.” He took her hand and guided her into the bathroom. He turned on the water and set it to a comfortably hot temperature. When he turned around, he found her standing there with all her clothes still on, looking so forlorn and hopeless, it twisted his heart so tight it had to fight to beat.

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