Page 89 of Reveal Me
‘I know.’ I press my palms against the cold glass of the window. ‘But it’s the only place I know she’ll be.’
Anderson looks up from his schematics. ‘The publicviewing areas will be cordoned off. You’ll be hundreds of yards away behind barriers.’
Ben exchanges a look with Anderson. ‘The crowds will be massive. Tourists, royal watchers, media. It’ll be chaos.’
‘Good. We’ll blend in as we position ourselves as close as we can get to the entrance.’
‘And then what?’ Ben asks in a slightly gentler tone. ‘After the ceremony, they’ll whisk her back to the palace. You’ll still be on the outside looking in.’
‘Then I’ll wait.’ I turn back to the window, watching the morning traffic crawl past Westminster Abbey. ‘She won’t do anything rash during the wedding. She won’t risk ruining Sabrina’s day. But after …’
My mind wanders back to that park she told me about. St James’s Park. It’s not much to go on, but I have fuck all else.
‘I can only hope.’ And it feels utterly fucking pathetic. I’ve spent my entire adult life being in control. In the club, in business, in every relationship I’ve ever had. I dominate situations, bend them to my will, make things happen through sheer force of determination and resources.
This is teaching me what true powerlessness feels like. I’ve never been less in control in my life. I hate it.
It’s killing me but I can’t save her. No matter how much I want to. I have to accept facts.
This is one battle Layla has to fight alone.
Chapter Forty-One
LAYLA
I stare at my reflection in the Rose Suite’s ornate mirror. Today is the day. Sabrina’s wedding day—and my last official appearance as a member of this family—a fact that they’re not yet in possession of.
Tonight, after the last guest stumbles out of the reception, I’m telling my mother exactly where she can shove her marriage plans.
I’m done being the dutiful daughter.
Done being manipulated.
And I’m definitely done being treated like a broodmare for the monarchy’s breeding programme.
The baby pink bridesmaid dress hangs from my frame. The weight has fallen off me this week. Being away from Sean is taking its toll, but thank God I have a small part of him here with me. My fingers drift over the collar automatically. The diamonds are cold against my throat, but the weight is familiar. Comforting. I might not have a phone or internet access, but I have other ways of communicating with him. When he sees today’s television coverage, he’ll know. I’m still his. No matter what.
I close my eyes and picture him somewhere out there. He’ll be out of his mind with worry. The thought makes my chest tight, but it also makes me stronger.
Tonight, I’m going to take the first step back to him. And God fucking help anyone who stands in my way.
A knock interrupts my plotting. ‘Come in.’
Sabrina floats into the room, and Christ, she looks stunning. Her wedding dress is straight out of the fairy tale she’s been dreaming up since we were children—ivory silk that moves like water, lace sleeves that probably took some poor seamstress months to create, and a train that goes on for miles. The tiara holding her veil makes her look like an actual princess instead of the reluctant one I am.
‘Well?’ She spins, beaming. ‘What do you think?’
‘You look like you stepped out of a Disney film. The good kind.’
She laughs, tears threatening her perfectly applied makeup. ‘I feel like I might throw up.’
‘Nerves or morning sickness?’
‘Both.’ She blows out a breath. My sister is the only person in this entire palace who’s excited I’m home. My father hasn’t come near me, which means my mother has told him everything. Good. It’ll save me a job.
I place my hand on Sabrina’s still flat stomach and pray to fuck she makes a better job of parenting than our own parents did. ‘I can’t believe you’re going to be a mother.’
‘I know.’
