Page 68 of Made for Reign

“Lucille, I?—”

“Mrs. Worthington! Miss Audrey!”

Maria bursts through the morning room doors, her usually composed demeanor completely shattered. Her face is flushed, and she’s breathing hard like she ran here.

“Maria, what on earth—” Lucille begins, but Maria cuts her off.

“It’s Mr. Vega,” she gasps, pressing a hand to her chest. “He’s been in an accident.”

FIFTEEN

REIGN

“Careful with the fucking corners,”I growl as Marcus and I maneuver the canvas into the back of my truck. “This is her best piece.”

“Would you relax?” Marcus adjusts his grip and slides the canvas into position. “I’ve disarmed bombs with less care than I’m giving this painting.”

I can’t help but snort. “You’ve never disarmed a bomb in your life.”

“Disarmed, shaped charges.” He helps me lower the protective cover over the painting. “Same principle. Steady hands, calm breathing, don’t fuck up or everything explodes.”

It’s Sunday afternoon, and Marcus and I are loading Audrey’s painting into my truck, preparing to submit it to the San Diego Regional Art Competition. The June heat shimmers off the asphalt, but up here in the mountains, the air stays cool. Perfect weather for what’s coming.

The canvas shows the view from my cabin’s studio window, the one she painted during our weekend together. Mountains rising through morning mist, pine trees catching golden light. But it’s more than scenery. There’s something honest in thebrushstrokes, like she worked out her frustrations on the canvas. Every stroke shows what she can’t say out loud.

It’s the kind of piece that wins first place.

“So, what exactly is this contest?” Marcus asks as we secure the tailgate. “And why are you entering her work without telling her?”

I pull off my work gloves and toss them into the truck bed. “Art competition in San Diego with a cash prize and gallery showing. She told me about it this morning, but she’s too scared to submit.”

“And you’re just going to submit it for her?”

“Pretty much.”

Marcus leans against the truck bed, watching my face. “What’s your long-term plan here? You and Audrey can’t keep sneaking around forever.”

I grab a beer from the cooler and crack it open. The cold liquid doesn’t do much for the tension coiled in my shoulders. “We’re managing.”

“Managing.” His tone is flat. “That’s not a plan, that’s a holding pattern.”

“It’s working.”

“For now.” He crosses his arms. “But Vega’s not stupid. How long before he figures out why his fiancée keeps disappearing to paint landscapes?”

I take another swig. “He won’t be a problem much longer,”

“What the hell does that mean?”

I weigh my words. Marcus has been my partner for five years. If anyone deserves the truth, it’s him. But some information is dangerous even with someone you trust.

“Just what I said.” I meet his stare. “Gio’s days are numbered.”

“Reign.” His voice carries a warning. “What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything.” And it’s true. I didn’t pull the trigger, didn’t plant the bomb, didn’t give the order. But I sure as hell didn’t stop what’s coming either. “I got a tip.”

“What kind of tip?”

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