Page 107 of Royal Affair

"James, darling." Veronica's voice preceded her arrival, all red curls and elegant curves in emerald silk. "You look positively murderous tonight. It's very attractive."

"Hands off, V," Rupert drawled, appearing beside her with his characteristic lazy smile. "Our James is a one-woman man. Even if that woman currently looks like she'd rather poison his champagne than share a dance."

I shot him a look that could have frozen hell. "Fuck off, Rupert."

"See? Murderous." Veronica's smile was wicked. "Though I have to say, the princess has excellent taste in evening wear. That dress is divine."

"And completely wasted on our grumpy bastard here," Rupert added cheerfully. "Tell me, James—when exactly did you become such a miserable sod? You used to be merely unpleasant."

"When I started associating with you," I replied curtly.

Spencer snorted. "He's been like this since he was twelve. Some things never change."

"Charming," Veronica murmured. "And here I thought all that brooding intensity was part of your mysterious appeal."

Before I could respond, my phone buzzed discreetly. Marcel, my team leader, sending position updates. I scanned the message quickly—all operatives in place, Kozlov under surveillance, evidence package ready for transfer to authorities. Harrison had confirmed the intelligence was solid just hours ago.

Everything was proceeding according to plan.

"Business calls?" Spencer asked, noting my distraction.

"Always does." I pocketed the phone and checked my watch. The speeches would begin in twenty minutes. "If you'll excuse me."

"Where are you going?" Veronica asked.

"To ensure tonight proceeds smoothly."

I moved through the crowd with purpose, nodding politely to acquaintances while keeping my focus on more important matters. My team was positioned strategically throughout the ballroom—Marcel near the royal family's table, Davidson covering the main entrance, Thompson monitoring the service corridors.

But it was Mikhail who held my attention. The man sat with perfect composure, engaging in polite conversation with his dinner companions as if he weren't orchestrating a blackmail scheme against European royalty. His calm confidence was almost admirable.

It wouldn't last much longer.

I caught Evangeline's eye across the room and saw her excuse herself from a group of diplomats' wives. She moved toward thecorridor leading to the ladies' room, her movements graceful but tense.

Perfect timing.

I waited thirty seconds, then followed.

The corridor was dimly lit and blessedly empty. I caught up to her just as she reached the restroom door.

"Evangeline."

She spun around, eyes flashing with anger. "Don't."

"Please. We need to talk."

"No, we don't." She moved toward the door, but I stepped sideways, blocking her path.

"Tonight ends this. The photographs, the blackmail, all of it. After tonight, you're free."

"Ends what?" Her voice was sharp, dangerous.

"All of it." I kept my tone flat, professional, even though being this close to her was tearing me apart. "You'll be free to make your own choices."

"How generous." The contempt in her voice cut deep. "The great James Banks, solving all my problems. Only this time with forced consultation."

The anger in her eyes made my chest ache. "You want details? Stay away from the royal table during the speeches. When this goes down, there might be complications."