Page 15 of A Queen and HER Bad Boy
Was it true? Would these rich bullies resort to murder? All he knew of the High Consortium was that they were titled nobility and corporate overlords who controlled Tirreoy’s mines, banks, media empires, and shipping routes, treating the nation like their personal chess board “They’d kill your own son?”
Bris’s fingers found his.
“You are not to worry about them,” Chises Mnon said, his tone suggesting Achilles was a child fretting over shadows. “You’ll find they’re quite reasonable when properly managed. After all, they need us as much as we need them—particularly when it comes to legitimizing Briseis’s claim to the throne.”
Achilles stiffened—this was why Bris would never be his, not truly. Her father would craft any lie or make any deal to be in control. It was bad enough to be his puppets, but who was this shadow organization they were working with?
Again, he remembered that he wore the ring his mother had given him. Would he actually have to use it?
The doors flew open, and Venice rushed through in all his wedding finery—his linen shirt creased and his usually immaculate appearance showing signs of whatever desperate journey had brought him here. But there was something in the steely confidence that he held himself, that made him look more like a future king than the puppets who’d replaced him. “I object!”
His father laughed to the side of them. “You’re a little late, Venice. You’ve been ousted from your kingdom for your rebellion. Congratulations! Your sister will rule in your stead.”And then ignoring his son like he was nothing but a gaping fish, he tilted his head at his daughter and new son-in-law. “Be ready to leave here in a half hour. Your plane is leaving promptly for Tirreoy.” He made a swift exit without another word to his son.
Venice glared after him, but surprisingly his wrath was mostly reserved for Achilles. He stepped in front of him, so that he couldn’t leave him as fast as his father did. “What have you done?”
Achilles knew how this would look like a betrayal, and he hated himself for it. He stepped away from Bris and tried to lead Venice away from her. “Admit it, Venice,” he lowered his voice, “You’re happy that you’re free of Tirreoy.”
Venice’s face reddened, but he didn’t disagree either. “I never took you for someone who wanted to take on the responsibility for yourself.”
“Because I don’t.”
Venice sputtered out in anger. “I knew it! What does he have on you?”
His mother’s life, for one. Achilles was sure that the prince would have no patience for pardoning the traitors that had tried to murder him. “He tied my hands,” he answered simply.
“And Bris?” Venice hissed. “How did my father convince her to go through with it?”
“Venice!” Bris refused to be left out, and just like when they were kids, she scrambled forward. “If you’re going to blame anyone, blame me! What girl doesn’t want to be the queen she was meant to be?”
Lies. Bris was trying to spare her brother the truth, but it wouldn’t be fair. “Your father usedyouto make her do it,” Achilles said bluntly. “He said you’d be assassinated.”
Venice’s reddened face immediately turned a chalky white. “I can’t believe…”
“If he’s telling the truth…” Achilles began… then they were all in trouble.
Bris threw her arms around her brother. “Venice, please! At least you’re free now. Don’t be mad.”
“I can’t… I’mnotmad at you. I’m mad at our father! I’m mad at myself. I should’ve seen…” Venice closed his eyes while Bris tried to comfort him with a tighter embrace. He sagged against it, though when his startling hazel eyes snapped back open, they caught Achilles in its watering gaze. “All I ask is you protect my baby sister. Do you hear me, Achilles?”
“Yes!” Achilles said, and the admission cracked something open inside his chest. If he was being truly honest, Venice’s broken plea had been the driving force behind everything—the real reason he’d thrown himself into this nightmare. The thought of Bris hurt, unprotected,lost—it would have destroyed him in ways he couldn’t even name. “I’ll protect her with my life.”
Even if that meant going against his baser nature. His lips still burned from their kiss earlier, his whole body begged for him to take Bris back in his arms and go right back to sealing their vows.
He let out a ragged breath. Yeah, that was hardly chivalrous, was it? He wasreallyglad Venice couldn’t read his mind. After how electrifying becoming her husband had been, becoming Bris’s unwavering knight errant would be more difficult than he could’ve ever imagined.
Chapter Five
Sunday, November 24th, DAY 2
—A little past midnight—
“Hurry!”Hisfather’shandswere on her back as he ushered her toward the helicopter. The wind cut through her thin wedding dress like ice, whipping her loose curls across her face and making her shiver violently. They’d just left the private plane, and Bris realized that no one was packing her luggage into their new transportation. They’d left so fast that they brought no help. “My things are in the cargo hold!”
“No time! You’re being followed!”
Panic—much of it stemming from memories she could barely remember, of her mother gasping in pain, crying out for her had served as warnings to stay in line. Safety was only a mirage when Atreus Mnon was at large.
Her eyes shifted to Achilles behind them, who was leaving the plane with his duffel bag slung over his shoulder, his hair flying back in the harsh wind. “I thought the Myrdons wanted this marriage,” she hissed. “What are we running from?”
