Page 20 of A Queen and HER Bad Boy (Spies and Royals #4)
“I expect that you will not make the same mistakes Venice did.”
“Of course not,” Bris answered carefully, fighting her every urge to heatedly defend her brother, but being very careful not to offend this political powerhouse. “I’m my own person—I’ll make my own mistakes.”
The lady sucked in her cheeks and then threw her head back in a delighted laugh. “And your father expects to rule through you? I doubt that very much.”
Bris had no idea how to form a diplomatic answer. Was the woman happy about this development or planning to object to her coronation? “I hope my rule will be for the benefit of this country.”
“Yes, that is easy to say when you’re unaware that you’re dependent on the goodwill of wealthy toads to fund your empire.”
“This country has its own resources,” Bris answered evenly.
Never mind that they weren’t available to them at the moment.
The Island of Aeaea jealously guarded their offshore drilling rights and had been known to sink ships that ventured too close to their territorial waters.
“We’ll enjoy a mutually beneficial relationship with our allies—while they respect our independence as a country. ”
“Tell that to the moguls in America who want to set up their sweatshops here.”
“I shall,” Bris promised firmly.
The countess smiled broadly, her approval evident. “See that you do.”
“No one has ever accused Bris of being a pushover,” Achilles said next to her, his voice warm with what sounded suspiciously like pride.
The monocle was back up again as the countess inspected him next. “I don’t doubt it. And what of his Royal Highness, the soon-to-be prince-consort? Will you magnify the strength of your queen or drain her of it?”
That was bold.
Achilles might have his failings, but backing down from a challenge wasn’t one of them. He grinned in response, the expression transforming his face from marble statue to devastating charmer. “You mistake me for someone who has that kind of influence over her.”
The countess laughed again, clearly delighted. “If you believe that, then you don’t know women.”
Past her shoulder, a beautiful socialite entered the ballroom in a sparkling red dress that caught the light like liquid fire. Immediately Bris realized her tactical error in dressing in an unobtrusive white, especially when she saw her husband’s head turn sharply toward the entrance.
Her stomach clenched in surprise. Charisse Oshear had entered the party.
What was she doing here? Bris had seen the guest list and hadn’t noticed an invitation going to the American heiress.
Her heart could only take so much, but she sneaked a glance at Achilles.
His face mirrored her shock, his expression going carefully blank in the way it did when he was hiding something important.
Was there any trace of love in that expression?
No, but her prince wasn’t someone who showed his cards to the world, and he certainly wouldn’t now.
Charisse’s color was high, which made her look far more radiant than the distantly amused socialite she’d been at Venice’s wedding.
Her red dress clung to her curves like it had been painted on. Every man in the vicinity was staring.
Too late, the countess turned to see what had stolen their attention, and she let out a scoff that only the very rich and elite could risk without inviting censure. “Is this a friend of yours?” she asked them, her tone suggesting she already knew the answer and disapproved.
“Y-yes,” Bris answered quickly, her voice catching slightly. “A very good friend.” She refused to look at Achilles again, though she could hear his breathing change, becoming shallower and more controlled.
“Hmm.” The countess wasn’t pleased, her disapproval evident in the tight line of her mouth. “Watch out for her.” She left on her heel with a swish of expensive fabric.
Bris wasn’t entirely sure of her meaning, but she definitely took it to heart as she watched the socialite approach like a red-dressed missile.
Near Charisse’s delicate arm, an older man she recognized as the CEO of Oshear Industries escorted his daughter through the guests with the confidence of old money and established power.
Spotting them and cutting through the line of guests who crushed against them for their turn to meet the future sovereigns of Tirreoy, Chris Oshear grasped Achilles’s hand in a firm handshake.
“I’ve heard so much about you. My daughter won’t stop singing your praises.
I’m not surprised, to be frank. I knew your father well. ”
Achilles broke from his stiff posture to step forward eagerly. “You… knew him?”
“He was a good man. A hero.”
Bris shifted uncomfortably at the touchy subject, careful not to show too much emotion.
Achilles fully blamed her father for his death—the idea that Chises Mnon would do away with the hero of this country was unbelievable!
General Peleus had sacrificed his life to usher her family and his own to safety.
If anyone had killed him, it wasn’t his best friend.
Atreus Mnon seemed the more likely culprit.
How could Achilles believe that wretched man after everything that had happened?
No matter how she argued, Achilles wouldn’t listen.
“We worked together in the past on several military initiatives,” Chris Oshear continued, clearly enjoying having Achilles’s rapt attention. As he namedropped and prattled on about Achilles’s father to his hungry ears, she practiced her impersonation of an elegant houseplant.
Charisse, on the other hand, had never been so animated.
A myriad of tragic emotions played over her flawless features—longing, hurt, determination.
“Achilles,” she finally broke in, her voice breathless.
She wrapped her fingers through his in something closer to a caress than a handshake.
“I—I wanted to be the first to congratulate you on—on your… marriage.”
Achilles struggled to cover whatever he was feeling, the muscle in his jaw ticking with tension. “As you know, it was very last minute.”
Bris hadn’t detected this bitterness earlier, but only a fool wouldn’t know it was absolutely justified.
She’d just hoped that she’d be the silver lining in all this and…
well, she wasn’t. The consequences of their hasty marriage were pouring down on them like acid rain, corroding everything they touched.
“May I talk to you alone, Achilles?” Charisse tugged on his hand with possessive familiarity. Bris might as well have been wallpaper for how much Charisse acknowledged her. “I need a few words with you.”
Achilles glanced over at Bris, something unreadable flickering in his dark eyes. “Will you excuse us for a moment? I should probably… explain.”
How much? Wouldn’t those details be their country’s deepest darkest secret? Or was this more about letting Charisse cry all over him while he, in turn, vowed to never forget her… or worse? Was this the beginning of a liaison?
Panic choked her, like it never had when Achilles had been his own man. He’d always run from woman to woman, but what would he consider acceptable as a man forced into matrimony? And what was Bris supposed to do, tell him, “No way—you’re not talking to another woman again?”
Her fingers clenched into fists before she nodded with regal composure. “By all means, don’t let me keep you. I’m sure you have so much catching up to do.” She turned to Charisse with a smile sharp enough to cut glass. “Charisse, I have to say what an unexpected pleasure it is to see you again.”
Was that queenly enough a response? Bris briefly thought of yanking her back and dragging her through the dessert table by her meticulously styled hair.
“Be sure to try the cream puffs,” she added sweetly. “They always work wonders if you’re feeling hangry.”
Charisse’s eyes narrowed on her with barely concealed venom before she turned her straight back against Bris and led her husband away. And that looked really, really bad… another miscalculation on her part. Bris hadn’t been prepped for this beforehand.
Another well-wisher greeted her with effusive compliments about her dress. She’d never felt more alone. Where was Phoenix in all this? Likely he’d seethe at this latest faux pas. Were these missteps going to be a part of her new life now that she’d failed to secure her husband’s affection?
“Are you serious right now?”
Bris swiveled with a gasp. Deedeelicious!
She’d secured an invitation too? Now she knew someone was actively plotting her downfall.
The redhead looked stunning in a sleek black dress that hugged her like a loving shadow, the perfect foil to Bris’s white—every move casual and confident, like she belonged in this rarefied atmosphere of wealth and power.
She lowered her camera phone with a knowing smirk.
“Did you really let him go with the other woman?”
Bris gaped at her usual openness, torn between hugging the one familiar face in the crowd and having security eject her from the premises. Deedee hugged her first, enveloping her in the scent of expensive perfume and barely contained excitement.
“You looked like you needed a friend, no offense intended.”
Bris let out a shaky breath. Sink or swim, she was swimming, but with her head barely above the water. “Who exactly invited you to record my crash and burn?”
“Gena…” Deedee’s ruby lips curved in a slow, satisfied smile.
“Achilles’s sister told me that I might as well finish the job I started—she gave me her invite since she can’t escape her real life as easily as some do.
Oh, and she mentioned something about appreciating the thought, but she’s got a lumbering bodyguard shadowing her every move, so she’s not going anywhere.
” She eagerly passed on the juiciest parts of her message.
Deedee’s camera phone swept the room, capturing candid shots of the glittering crowd. “Got to get some good B-roll.”
“You’re wasting your time,” Bris warned her, though it came out sounding more like a royal command than a suggestion. “I’m not giving you anything viral.”
“Oh babes, too late,” Deedee said with obvious glee.
Achilles and Charisse! Bris’s heart leaped in horror. “How about you make us look good this time? I’ll make it worth your while.” She was dead serious, her voice dropping to barely above a whisper.
“Honey, I made you look amazing last time—everyone is rooting for you two, can’t get enough of the fairy tale romance. Trust me, this is incredible for your brand. The only time you need to worry is when nobody cares what you do.”
Tell that to the High Consortium. They didn’t want a ticking time bomb with a messy personal life on their hands.
The damage was done if Deedee had already captured Achilles leaving the party with Charisse.
She took a steadying breath, fighting for control.
“He had to explain to her why… we married so quickly. They were dating before we…. Anyway, just make sure that your viewers don’t misread that. ”
“They won’t. No worries, bestie.”
Bris’s annoyance flared like a struck match as the truth of her words hit her. “Look, I can just call someone to get you escorted out of here.”
“No, you still need your redemption story, girlfriend,” Deedee said with the confidence of someone who held all the cards.
She was acting like she was doing them a favor!
Was she? Bris knew nothing about the intricate world of social media where Deedee reigned supreme.
Despite how much she used those platforms, they seemed to use her right back, never the other way around.
That might be happening again. Could she trust her unpredictable friend… acquaintance… frenemy? “Just… be nice.”
“Always am, sweets.”
That was definitely up for interpretation. Bris’s gaze drifted back to where Achilles had disappeared with Charisse, temporarily forgetting the viral threat in her overwhelming worry about losing her husband forever.