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Chapter Nineteen

“ I literally couldn’t be more focused on the Qasira,” Lottie protested. “I saved her life last night. She moved me into the palace. I’m with her all the time. She bought me. Everything is on track.”

Ace leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. “You’re shagging her. That’s not focus. That’s having too much fun on the Nightingale’s money and becoming a bloody liability.”

They were having a late breakfast in the safe house cafe across from Sami’s Place. Ace had called the meeting.

“Total bollocks,” Lottie said. “The closer I get, the more Zynara listens. She is one-hundred percent wrapped around my little finger.”

Bili snorted into her mint tea. “Your little finger?”

Lottie blinked. It was a sign of just how intense last night had been that the obvious comeback took a few moments to surface in her mind.

“All my fingers, babes, but back off, will you? We’re doing fine.

We blew up Malik’s yacht and pissed him royally, one of his pet billionaires conveniently expired mid-orgy, his media profile is tanking, and I won a hundred million off him at poker last night.

He is definitely running scared. The attack last night was proof. You’re welcome.”

“You won what?” Bili looked stunned.

“ How much?” blurted Ace.

They gaped.

“Yeah.” Lottie was as cool about it as she could be, given the circumstances. She sulked into her cup. “One-hundred and forty million actually, but the Nightingale sequestered the whole fucking lot of it the moment it landed in my bank account—”

“The Circle’s bank account,” Ace corrected.

“Yeah,” grumbled Lottie again. “I was a multi-millionaire for slightly less than two hours. It was really fucking nice while it lasted.” She’d had the craziest feeling everything in her life had been going right, for once.

Bili squeezed her hand. “All in Her Majesty’s service,” she said. She was talking about Queen Alexandra of Britain, but there was another queen— Qasira— Q’sar— whatever— that Lottie would rather give her life to any day.

Ace still looked dazed. “Nice work.”

“Thanks.”

They looked at each other. They were back where they’d started.

The mission had stalled—this emergency meeting was proof.

Lottie was secretly prepared to admit that a lot of the blame fell on her—she was completely gone for the Qasira and it not only compromised her judgement, it obliterated it utterly.

The Nightingale could squawk all she liked back in her nest, but Lottie was in love with a princess who was real, who had a heart that needed her, who had hopes and dreams, and who didn’t deserve to be manipulated by forces that cared more for bottom lines than they did for Zynara.

She wasn’t going to admit that to Bili and Ace, though.

They were still looking for someone to blame.

“We could have used the Saudi’s death to greater impact,” Bili mused, “except you negotiated our silence. Now we can’t use it without exposing ourselves.”

“We did it to detonate his boat—”

“As a gift for the Qasira,” Ace pointed out. “Did she like it?”

Lottie stuck up a finger. “Loved it. Really touched her soul. Never had a present like it. Screw you.”

“But his oil pipeline deal went through anyway.” Ace’s tone was blunt.

“None of it’s worked, Finch. Malik’s still heir, the summit is floundering, the Q’sar is nowhere to be seen and Zynara’s distracted.

Now there’s been an attack on her life. We know Malik killed his older brother.

He’s clearly feeling threatened by Zynara now.

We need to speed things up. And I hate to lay on the pressure, but it’s down to you. The Nightingale is getting impatient.”

There was a pause. They grimaced at each other. This was stupid.

“Tell me again why we just can’t kill him?” Lottie grumbled.

“Because the Queen of England has prohibited it. You kill him and you will be explaining to Her Majesty why you murdered her cousin. And you’ll be doing it on your own. From prison.”

Lottie sulked.

“Okay. Petrov,” she said. “That deal matters.”

Ace nodded. “If he signs with Malik, we’re screwed. If he backs Zynara’s hydrogen developments, we shift the narrative.”

“I can handle Petrov—”

The other two sighed loudly. Ace pushed back from the table and put one foot up on her chair. She rested her elbow on her knee. Lottie would have admired her upper arms once, but a princess commanded her thoughts now.

“I can!” she protested. “I’m playing a longer game. You want to undermine Malik? You want Zynara on the throne? Then trust me. I’ve got this. I promise!”

“We’re running out of time.”

“Well, we step it up. Ace—be ready to torch a refinery or two. That will rattle his cage.”

Ace barked a short laugh. “Your only bloody tactic is explosives.”

“I’m good at explosives!”

“Maybe you should try some craft. Some cunning. Some strategy.”

“Ouch.”

Bili held up her hands. “Alright you two. Back to your corners. Let’s not take it out on each other.”

There was another long silence.

The sounds of the medina went on around them—the hum of people living a simpler life, selling silk slippers, trading spice and hawking jewellery.

The chatter was a mix of English and Arabic and the sound of it made Lottie feel…

comfortable. She had the curious feeling of finding a sense of place here—something she’d never experienced before—and she knew that had almost everything to do with a woman.

One she was wholly and completely obsessed with. One who was just as fixated on her.

Ace still had an axe to grind. “If you want to play house with a princess, go ahead, but don’t pretend you’re still committed to the mission unless you’re prepared to act like it. The Nightingale had a message just for you. She said, ‘Remember Libya.’”

Lottie’s hands were clenched so tight they trembled, but she didn’t argue. Not because Ace was wrong, not because she was scared of going back to that prison in Libya—but because she wanted to defend Zynara. Not use her.

And that was all of the problem.