Page 7 of A Queen and HER Bad Boy
She giggled and caught his arm, forcing him to sit down next to her. “Only if you promise to find us our own place there.”
Achilles caught the sharp intake of breath as Bris turned sharply away.
Chises Mnon seized the mic next. His hard gaze ran from Achilles to his daughter before they turned on his son. “How delightfully convenient that this charming getaway lies within such proximity to Tirreoy. The people you serve won’t care to have you gone long. Your true obligations, of course, await you in the capitol.”
And he’d just effectively killed the happy mood.
“My affairs are all well in hand,” Venice retorted. His stiff jaw brooked no further argument. “I’ve appointed trusted advisors to fill in when it is necessary for me to leave.” His eyes drifted to his wife, and it was clear that they’d discussed this development together.
“Yes, yes,” his father cut in. “Sir Phoenix of Stavros, of course.”
“No, Phoenix won’t be necessary,” Venice said. “He is due for retirement.”
His father froze in cold disbelief. Venice was fighting back in front of everyone and at his own wedding. Achilles had never been so proud… or quite so uneasy when he noticed that enraged flash in Chises Mnon’s eye.
Bris and Venice were blind to their father’s baser nature—they’d been so sure that their father hadn’t killed his, telling Achilles never to believe the Myrdon’s lies, and yet Achilleshad felt of their father’s cruelty firsthand. The man would do anything to secure his rule. Couldn’t Venice see that?
The reception had fallen into an eerie hush, champagne glasses frozen halfway to lips as hundreds of guests hung on every word.
Chises Mnon quickly smoothed his features, burying his fury beneath a politician’s mask and turning to the crowd with a practiced smile. “Ladies and gentlemen, let’s give the happy couple some space to enjoy their cake!” His commanding tone carried through the tent, jovial but firm. The band immediately struck up again, and servers began circulating with champagne.
He whipped around to his son like a furious bear. “This is the time you decide to disobey my wishes? With civil war boiling just below the surface?”
Uh oh… the mic was still live!
“Especially with that threat,” Venice answered evenly. “Now is the time to appoint a trusted staff. Certain arrangements were found… unacceptable.”
Nowthatwas a mic drop if Achilles ever heard one.
This was far more rebellious than Achilles toting around the girl that wasn’t Chises Mnon’s choice of bride into the fray. Did Venice have any idea what sort of force he was going up against?
Only then did Chises Mnon notice the sea of rapt faces staring up at them, realizing too late that they’d broadcasted their explosive argument. To make things worse, a few camera phones were out to collect the evidence. Chises Mnon made a sharp gesture to cut the microphone, the damage already done—Venice had just publicly challenged his father in front of every powerful family in the kingdom.
“We’ll discuss these politics… later,” his father promised in a hiss that promised retribution.
Venice took on a bored look that Achilles recognized as barely concealed defiance. “Yes, I’ll inform you of my other appointmentsaftermy honeymoon.”
And that was a dismissal. Good for him. Venice had never been more ready to rule Tirreoy than now—ironic since the man who’d forced him to the throne was likely second-guessing his decision to put him there.
Chises Mnon grinned in a chilly grimace that was infinitely more terrifying than his anger. “Yes, of course! This is your wedding. Let’s put this political talk behind us and enjoy the rest of this evening. We have much to do.”
Chapter Three
Whoneededmenanyway?
Bris bristled when Achilles stole another glance at her. Sheesh! At this point, he’d be worse than Sir Jax Montgomery, only Achilles was more stubborn and refused to approach her after his disastrous threat of what he’d do if she slipped off with that guy.
She should grab Montgomery first chance she got, just to show Achilles that he didn’t rule her—or her heart.
Her loyalty to her brother kept her in one place. After the speeches, they cut the cake and had gone through the promised dances until, grabbing her sparklers, Bris joined a line of guests leading them to the limo decorated in soda cans and whipped cream.
The author of this masterpiece laughed beside her. If anyone should be down in the dumps, it was Deedee, or Deedeelicious as she was known on her viral videos on TalkieTalk. The redhead was Venice’s ex-girlfriend and Livvy’s best friend, but she was in great spirits. She danced her sparklers through the air, glancing over at Bris. “Hey, Sugarpop. Spill the tea—Achilles found more arm candy, huh?”
Bris wasn’t in the mood to make the social media star her confidante. “Yes, they look great together.”
“Not to be rude,” Deedee said, “butthat’snot going to last.”
Oh yeah, Deedee had dated Achilles too. Well… “dating” was a strong name for it—the two had flirted nonstop during the same trip that Venice had found Livvy, and Bris suspected it was to get Venice’s ex off his back… with benefits. Deedee probably knew what she was talking about firsthand.
