Page 32 of Royal Player
“Peter Boucher.”
My stomach drops. He’s friends with Peter? That’s my soon-to-be fiancé. Does he know the truth about my family?
He goes on smoothly. “I know he’s blackmailing you into marrying him, and I know why.”
My heartbeat pounds in my ears. I can’t believe this. Nobody knows.
I finally find my voice, but it comes out breathy. “Why would Peter tell you this?”
“I’ve stayed at one of his resorts multiple times, and he knows of my ties to the royal family here. We became friendly. Obviously he’s quite sure of himself to plainly tell me the facts.”
I go cold. Charles probably wants to blackmail me, too, just to keep the whole thing quiet. “What do you want?”
His oily smile gives me chills. “I only want to help you. If you pay off your parents’ debt, Peter’s hold on you vanishes.”
“And you’re going to help me pay it off?” It can’t be that easy. I know this, but I need him to get to the point.
He leans in, lowering his voice, though we’re alone in the back room of the restaurant. Vaughn is posted outside the entrance of it. “Have you ever considered how valuable your virginity is?”
I gasp.
“Hear me out. An auction for your virginity, quietly done, here in a hotel suite. The ultrawealthy seek the elusive, the unique, the unattainable. You’re all three. You will never find such a gathering of the wealthy all in one place. One hour of your time to gain your freedom.”
Bile rises in my throat. “You disgust me. I would never sell my body.”
He leans back in his seat. “Understandable reaction to an unusual idea, but you’re in an unusually difficult situation, are you not?”
I toss my napkin on the table. “We’re done here.”
“Maybe you’d like to hear what Peter plans to do with your palace once he’s king.”
I stare at him. “Do with it? What do you mean?”
He pulls out his phone and taps it a few times. “Peter wants to turn your palace into a tourist attraction like a carnival ride.” He shows me the screen. “There’s your proof.”
I read an email from Peter in growing horror as he asks about European castles used in the tourism industry and wondering about the expense of turning part of it into a ride. He concludes Beaumont doesn’t have a theme park and this would make it more appealing to families. Suddenly I remember Peter asking me about my travel to Villroy, inquiring about their experience with destination weddings and their royal honeymoon suite. This is unreal. He wants to turn the palace that’s been in the Lyon family for centuries into a carnival ride? It’s blasphemy.
My head spins with all the implications. Peter can never be made king. Marrying him doesn’t solve anything. It only makes it worse. I have to pay him off and get him out of the picture as soon as possible.
“No one would ever know,” Charles says softly. “A small sacrifice for the good of your kingdom.”
I shiver, goose bumps breaking out over my skin. Duty to kingdom above self. It’s ingrained in me. But this is too much. Every cell in my body screams no!
He smiles, his voice gentle, and I’m frozen in horror. “I’m only trying to help you get out of his hold. You need the money, and I can promise a windfall deposited in your account immediately upon completion of the transaction. Tomorrow night. I’ll take a small percentage for arranging it.”
I meet his eyes, and they gleam with greed just like Peter’s. He seeks his own windfall, which means he expects a lot of money to pour in for me. I’m nauseous at the mere thought of it. I’d entertained the idea of giving my virginity away in a big adventure so Peter wouldn’t get everything, but I never took it seriously enough to follow through. I even dared to broach the topic with Oscar last night in my drunken state, but he was sensible and looked out for me. I appreciated that once I sobered up.
“Let’s go back to my office to work out the details,” he says.
I swallow hard. “I need more time to think.”
He gives me an indulgent smile. “Offer expires at midnight tonight, Princess. Then I share what I know.”
“So now you’re blackmailing me too?”
He lifts his palms. “I’m the only one offering to help you.”
I stand. “I don’t need your kind of help.”
