Page 27 of Royal Bargain

I stand there for a moment, heart pounding again, but for a very different reason. The glow of the spotlight is gone. The theater feels colder now. Bigger. Emptier.

And somewhere out there, one of my father’s men knows exactly where I am.

11

LIAM

Idon’t like this. Not even a little.

Annika’s still riding the high from her set—cheeks flushed, eyes sparkling. She looks so damn alive it almost hurts to look at her. And I’m supposed to just walk out? Leave her with a guy I hauled in at the last second and pretend that’s good enough?

But I’ve got no choice.

I nod to Mac as he steps into the White Swan Café, swaggering forward with all his usual confidence. He’s the guy you wouldn’t want to mess with on his best day. Nose’s been crooked since his fight of ‘17, always has a permanent scowl, that sort of thing. But he’s solid, and dangerous where it counts. That’s why I trust him.

“She’s yours until she’s home,” I mutter as I pass. “No detours. Eyes up.”

He grunts. “Got it.”

Still doesn’t sit right. I glance over my shoulder once more before slipping out the side. Annika’s talking with Ingrid, fingers twitching near her necklace—her nervous tell. My chest tightens. She’ll be fine. She has to be.

But if Burns is calling at this hour? It’s not good. Never is.

The city’s humming around me as I drive, headlights turning slick in the rain, streetlights streaking past in smudges of gold and white. I take the long route to campaign HQ. Needed a minute. Needed air. Needed something to push back the itch crawling up my spine, telling me to turn the hell around.

By the time I get there, it’s damn near midnight. The building’s lit up like the Fourth of July, and every light makes my gut twist harder.

I park out back and head in, bracing for tension. Maybe a fire to put out. Maybe headlines already catching flame.

Instead, there’s Senator Burns—grinning like it’s cocktail hour.

“There he is!” he booms, clapping a hand on my shoulder and shoving a glass of something strong into mine. “Our man of the hour!”

“What the fuck?”I ask, staring at the drink like it’s a nuclear bomb.

Burns is grinning so wide it looks almost painful. “You’ve outdone yourself, Liam. Just got the latest numbers—primary polls have us soaring. We’re ahead by double digits in half the districts we thought we’d lose. This is huge.”

My brain tries to catch up to what’s going on, drink still in my hand, processing the fact that I was pulled from Ana’s side to come to a… a fucking party.

Inside the headquarters, it’s like a damn party. Campaign staffers are wandering around with drinks, music’s playing low from someone’s speaker, and a few aides are already laughing too loud like they’ve had more than one glass of whatever Burns handed me.

Burns clasps my shoulder again, voice lower now. “I knew I made the right call putting you in charge, Liam. Your strategy—the security firm angle, the small business endorsements, that charity fundraiser you floated? All of it’s working.”

I nod, slowly, trying to keep my expression neutral. “That’s… great. I just figured, when you called…”

“You thought the sky was falling?” Burns laughs. “That’s the Brannagan in you. Always waiting for the hammer to drop.”

He clinks his glass to mine and takes a sip. “Relax, kid. We’re winning.”

I let myself be dragged into the current of celebration. Someone passes me a second drink. One of the interns gives me a high-five like I just hit the winning goal in overtime. Even I can’t help the small smile tugging at my mouth at the win we’ve just had.

Burns holds court at the center of it all, glass raised, red-faced and gleaming like the king of a small kingdom.

“You want to know the turning point?” he says, voice pitched just loud enough for our group of staffers to hear. “Harborview District. Once we locked that down and took care of the… complications, everything started lining up. Like dominoes.”

There’s a round of cheers, but I only half-hear them. Something about that sticks out to me, but I can’t put a finger on it.

Harborview?I repeat the word to myself, trying to make sense of it.