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“I get it,” I tell him. “It’s just sad.”
“Who knows? She may not even care to know me.”
“I think everyone would rather know who they really are, Alaric. No matter what. Isn’t truth always better than deception?” I shrug. “For her well-being, I agree. Let’s leave her out of it for now, but if things turn out alright, I don’t see the harm in going to meet her. Maybe she always wanted a brother.”
His lips curl at the corners. “We’ll see.”
He can say whatever he wants, but I know Alaric Barclay. He wouldn’t have gone through all the trouble of finding her if he didn’t want to meet her. She changed the way he saw the world. Her existence made him search for the truth. And he’s a better man for it.
“Are you nervous about the wedding this weekend?”
He lets out a breath. We’ve been calling our operationthe weddingbecause we all know what it means, and we couldn’t care less about Vincent and Anne-Marie’s wedding. There’s something much bigger at stake.
“I think Leo may have actually found the perfect people to pull it off. Their plan sounds foolproof, and what I like even more is that none of us will be implicated if it goes badly.”
“Except Leo.”
“Leo’s earned his grandfather’s ire more than once.”
That’s what bothers me. They need Leo’s blood to get into the room that holds The Secret File. He can always say it was taken from him, but his grandfather isn’t an idiot. This move is risky.
“Don’t worry about him,” Alaric says breezily. “That guy has nine lives, and I’m pretty sure he’s only used up one so far.”
I fall back onto the pillow. I’ve been doing nothing but worrying about the wedding. It’s the best, sound plan we’ve had yet, but that doesn’t mean it will go off without a hitch. Leo’s team will be breaking their way into the file. The only thing we have to do is give them his blood. They’re finding their own way onto the island. Of course, they are using the map and the information Leo gave them, so Sir Franklin will know that someone betrayed them, but he won’t know who.
We hope.
“He’ll be fine,” Alaric promises. “We all will be.”
“Jarvis, you motherfucker!”
My spine goes as straight as hardened steel as Oliver bellows through the house.
“Fuck.” Alaric throws the sheets off him. He stops to pull on a pair of boxers, and I grab a small blanket and run from the room, hoping we don’t have another teapot incident on our hands. “Wait,” Alaric calls out, but I’m already turning the corner.
A ferocious Oliver stands in front of Leo’s door with a piece of paper in his hands. My sweet, sweet prince lifts his foot and stomps the door. It swings open, crashing against the wall.
“The fuck, dude?” I hear Leo grunt. “What’s your problem?”
“My problem? My fucking problem?” I get there just in time to see Oliver throw himself at Leo, fists swinging.
Oliver connects with his jaw, and Leo roars, throwing himself right back at Ollie until they hit the ground with a thump.
“You fucker. You couldn’t resist. You just couldn’t fucking resist.”
Alaric comes running into the room as I stand in front of the grappling pair. “Oliver... Ollie, what’s wrong?” I ask.
This seems worse than a teapot conflict, but with Oliver, you never can tell. Maybe Leo put the toilet paper on the holder the wrong way. He’s very particular.
“Alright,” Alaric grunts. “Come on.” He bends down and snatches Oliver off of Leo and pushes him away. Oliver stumbles back a few steps, and I move in his way and grab his face.
“What’s wrong?”
“He’s fucking psycho,” Leo snarls from behind us.
“Psycho? You haven’t seen psycho yet.” Ollie runs his hand through his hair. “Plus, I’m not the one who set this shit up behind everyone’s back.You’rethe fucking psycho.”
He bends down to snatch the piece of paper off the ground and shoves it in my face.