Page 89 of A Queen and HER Bad Boy
And he said none of those things. She was already stiff with discomfort. “You looked into C.I.R.C.E. then?” she asked.
“I don’t know what to believe, to be honest.” If anyone knew the truth behind the government propaganda, then her father should.
And he had to keep his eye on that snake of an earl. He twirled Charisse, using the movement to glance over her shoulder at his wife. Bris had broken away from Dimitri, and the man was nowhere to be seen.
His mother’s warning burned through his senses, putting him on high alert. Where had he slithered off to? Nothing changed the fact that Bris’s life was in danger tonight.
He scanned the ballroom, noticing his sister in an elegant red silk gown that made her olive complexion come alive in Grecian perfection. And Dominique’s firm hand was against her back.
Achilles felt his jaw tighten. Now that he knew her bodyguard was sent by Chises Mnon to act as a prison guard to keep him in line, he had to think of a way to break her free. The man had dressed in a tux meant to blend in with the crowd, but that was impossible with the broad military set of his shoulders.
There had to be a way to get around him.
“Achilles? Are you okay?” His eyes shifted to Charisse. She nibbled on her lower lip like she was afraid to say more. “I’m sorry about your father.”
He was seriously bad at this interrogation thing. “Me too. Did your father say more… about mine?”
“Only that he was a good man,” she whispered, “before… he left for Aeaea.”
So, his mother had corrupted him with the Myrdon philosophy. “Then it’s true.” Achilles’s heart sank as he said it.
“I’m sorry, Achilles. My father didn’t want to go into it at all, only that he wanted to remember the man that he used to be before the… rumors. He has no idea what he’s become now!”
“Now?” This time she’d caught his full attention. “Who he is now?” he repeated.
Charisse was back to biting those perfect rosebud lips in her distress, and she nodded, the loose strands of her blonde curls wisping around her jaw. “I thought you already knew!”
Knew what…?But Achilles knew; he’d suspected it ever since he’d talked to O Skia. “He’s still alive.”
“Yes,” she breathed. “The assassins who have gone after him have been unsuccessful so far. He’s on the Island of Aeaea—the civil unrest in those jungles have concealed him for years. No one can get near for fear of terrorists and guerrillas, and so rumor is that he lives quite comfortably on the backs of those who live there.”
“My father?”Again, he remembered how he’d shouted out his fears to Aggie Mnon when he’d tried to distract him from killing Bris.“What does he have to do with this?”
“Everything!”
“Would my father get involved in our politics?” But Achilles already knew the answer, didn’t need to ask it, only wanted the confirmation that this was the man who’d want his son on the throne, the spider who’d ally with the Myrdons and become the invisible hand that moved Achilles around like a chess piece.
Charisse’s face was pale with concern. “No, why should he come here? His life is in danger. If he steps one foot off his island, then Chises Mnon would…” she cut herself off before she said more.
“You’re not really that good at keeping anything back from me,” he said. “Your face says more than you think.”
She let out a resigned breath. “He’d order your father’s death if he came anywhere near you. My father thinks he used you as bait to—to lure him closer. I honestly think that’s why Chises Mnon took you and your sister into his home in the first place. He’s always talking about smoking out the rats.”
By using children as bait? It had worked perfectly! His mother’s frantic warning, that useless ring thrust into his hands—all for nothing. The Myrdons knew exactly what his father-in-law was planning, yet they’d all played along with this sick charade. Atreus, Chises, his own father—willing to gamble everything, even innocent lives, for a chance at the crown.
And Bris was trapped right in the crossfire. Cold panic hit him—she was the only thing standing between them and everything they’d ever craved. Aggie Mnon’s hands felt like they were back around his throat, choking him while his taunts bled through his mind:“You should be thanking me for this opportunity. We’ve got great plans for you.”
A surge of fury nearly overwhelmed him. Friend, foe, or family—he’d fight them all “Bris is in danger,” he growled.
The rose-colored sash across her bodice lifted at Charisse’s sharp intake of breath. “What? Now? At her coronation?”
His eyes swerved to where his wife stood beside her father on the elevated dais, the ancient Crown of Tirreoy glittering under the chandeliers on a velvet cushion between them. “My father has big plans for me.”
His mother had warned him—probably knew her children were all in danger because of the devils she’d married. Two of them! That was a losing streak in his opinion, though perhaps she’d once believed in this twisted cause. Atreus Mnon was on the outs with her. Could he have guessed she wasn’t on the same page?
“Big plans?” Charisse’s cheeks flushed bright red. “You actually think he’d go so far as to hurt your wife?”
He shook his head. “No.” Same playbook as with Aggie Mnon. “He’ll make the Myrdons do the dirty work.”
