Chapter 12
TWELVE
The armored limousine moved through the night like a ship, tinted windows hiding the world.
Shifting in his seat opposite Joshua and Leo, Alex waited for them to kick off the conversation.
Of course he’d talked to them before—they were actual soccer fans, with Leo holding particularly strong opinions on teams he liked and didn’t—but it had always been in passing, a few bites of small talk at a social event.
This was different, and Alex wasn’t entirely certain of the protocol.
It was Leo who broke the silence, his attention heavy on Alex even as the shadowed interior of the car swallowed all details. “How do you feel about Qatar?”
Uh?
Alex considered his response. “You mean how they bribed their way into hosting a World Cup?”
“They do seem to have a penchant for bribery.” Leo’s gaze didn’t waver. “You may have heard about the EU Parliament’s Qatargate?”
Was this some kind of test?
“Vaguely.” Alex fluttered his hand. “Something about a number of politicians being arrested, I think? Money stored in flats, suspension of some air transit agreement that was considered too favorable to Qatar?”
“Roughly accurate,” Leo said while Joshua was quiet, simply watching. “You may also be aware that the UK is in the process of negotiating a free-trade agreement with Qatar?”
Um.
Not really?
Alex tried to mask his confusion as he maintained a straight back. “I’m afraid I haven’t been following things that closely. Politics is my father’s domain, not mine.”
“What about—”
“I think that’s enough,” Joshua interrupted gently, one of his hands coming to rest on Leo’s knee. Leo studied Alex for a moment longer before he nodded, his stance loosening quite suddenly as he turned to smile at Joshua.
“Yeah, all right. I was just making sure.”
“I know.” Joshua smiled back before he turned to look at Alex. “My apologies, Alexander. You’re probably wondering what’s going on.”
“Alex, please.” Alex fought the impulse to shift under the full weight of Joshua’s regard. “I prefer Alex, if that’s okay. And yes, this is all a bit… odd.”
“Alex.” Joshua inclined his head. “See, here’s the thing.
A few days ago, the Head of Royal Communications received an anonymous tip, namely that Qatar may be trying to skew the trade negotiations in their favor.
Leo took it to his old team for further investigation—I don’t know if you’re familiar with James Boyle? ”
Alex swallowed, suddenly queasy. James Boyle was an institution, professional fixer and dogsbody to those who could afford his services. While Alex had never personally run into the man, he was well familiar with the rumors. Competent, ruthless, thorough—Boyle and his team didn’t mess around.
“I don’t—” Alex cut himself off. Anything he said could be used against him, right?
Except the prince and his consort weren’t the police, and no allegations had been launched against Alex himself.
It didn’t take a genius to figure out where this was headed, though, and should Alex jump to defend his father?
Because that, that was the entire point of this conversation. Wasn’t it?
Oh God.
“Alex?” Joshua prompted, his voice still kind.
“I know of James Boyle,” Alex managed. “Never met him, though. Is this… If you’re saying what I think you are, shouldn’t this be a matter for the police?”
“It will be as of tomorrow, when we hand over the evidence.” Leo sounded calm and precise. “Given the sensitive nature, we simply wanted to do our homework first rather than needlessly risk the reputation of several people, including some who are perceived as close to the Crown.”
“And, um.” Speak succinctly, Alexander. “I take it the evidence holds up?”
“I’m afraid so.” Joshua sighed softly, the sound nearly lost in the sickening rush of the driving car, of wheels slapping the road. It hadn’t seemed quite this loud before, and Alex sucked in a breath, and another.
“We’re not here to accuse you,” Leo said, and something must have shown on Alex’s face because Leo chuckled without much humor. “Honestly, we’re not. Just crossing some T’s and dotting some I’s, that’s all—no one seriously thinks you’re involved.”
That was… good, yeah. But it still meant… It still meant that Alex’s father was, quite possibly. Why would he do such a thing? They didn’t need the money, so why, why?
Alex shook his head against the dizziness. “But then why all this?” He gestured at the car, at Joshua and Leo, at himself. “Why come to the match and talk to me?”
“One”—Leo’s grin showed sharp teeth—“we actually wanted to see the game. Good seats on short notice are a perk of marrying into royalty, you see. Secondly, we wanted to check whether you knew anything at all.”
“I don’t,” Alex said quickly. “I don’t know if it’s true—it’s not like we ever talk about politics because we sure don’t see eye to eye, but… Just, we may not have the best relationship, but he is my father. So.”
“I’m not asking you to implicate him.” Joshua paused, glancing at Leo for a moment before he continued.
“The reason we wanted to talk to you—the main reason we wanted to talk to you—is that you deserve a fair warning. Once this breaks, you’ll be in the spotlight.
Not because you yourself are a suspect, but because you’re linked to this.
You’re a prominent figure, and the media will show no mercy. ”
Alex blinked against the spots flitting through his vision. No words would come.
“Listen, mate.” Sympathy colored Leo’s voice, his earlier brashness gone.
“The best you can do is turn into a broken record. Just keep repeating, again and again, that you have never been involved in your father’s politics.
If you have to say it a dozen times, say it a dozen times.
If you have to say it a hundred times, say it a hundred times.
Other than that? Play your fucking heart out. ”
That made sense. Right?
“Do you have people in your corner?” Joshua asked gently.
Alex thought of Jeff, of Lee. Of a couple of friends from school that would stand by him, scandal be damned.
“I do.” He cleared his throat. “At least I think so.”
Joshua smiled. “Good. Keep them close.”
Keep them close.
Somehow, Alex managed to smile back. Even if he couldn’t feel his face.
Isabella, Jeff’s girl, was everything Lee was not—poised and beautiful, well-spoken, and dressed with a touch of class. It was easy to picture someone just like her by Alex’s side, and maybe Lee needed the reminder because that was how it would end, wasn’t it? With Lee, alone.
He stuck with Oliver and Sanna for a little while, then drifted between groups of teammates scattered around the hotel’s outdoor terrace. The city setting hardly registered, the noises that defined Madrid at night filtered by the park-like green space that surrounded the hotel.
Still no sign of Alex.
Lee considered sending him a quick message, but he didn’t want to come across as needy. They weren’t boyfriends, so checking up on each other wasn’t something they did, no matter how much Lee wanted to. Alex was fine—probably, almost certainly.
The first players were already heading off by the time Alex finally showed. A smile was pasted on his face as he suffered some good-natured ribbing for having friends in high places, and he countered all speculation about what had taken him so long with variations of, “It’s classified.”
His eyes were hollow.
Jeff, about to leave with Isabella, didn’t seem to notice. He pulled Alex in for a tight hug, grin wide enough to split his face in two as he let Alex go with a, “We did it, mate. Can you fucking believe it?”
“We did,” Alex agreed, genuine joy washing over his face that was gone all too soon. Tension formed a thick knot behind Lee’s ribs. He smiled through it, keeping an eye on Alex even as he teased Jeff about turning into a sensible person who left before the party was over.
Jeff draped an arm around Isabella’s waist. “It’s the company I keep.”
Her laugh was surprisingly loud and just a hint wicked as she leaned into him. “I think we have yet to decide whether this is a ‘keep’ kind of situation.”
“Is that a challenge?” Jeff looked rather happy at the idea, and Isabella sent him a bright look.
“What do you think?”
They left soon after that, and Lee drew Alex over to the side of the terrace, where softly illuminated trees and blooming hedges granted them a hint of privacy. “What’s wrong?”
For a second, Alex’s facade cracked. “I’ll tell you later.”
Lee glanced around before he lowered his voice. “They didn’t, you know… They didn’t hurt you or something?”
“What? No.” Quickly, Alex shook his head, surprise in his eyes. “God no. They’re not—they’re good people. Why would you even think that?”
Lee exhaled. “Because you’re not okay.”
“I’m…” Alex’s gaze slid away, voice dropping to a whisper. “It’s family stuff.”
“Family stuff?” Lee repeated slowly, taking in the miserable tilt to Alex’s mouth, the tired slump of his shoulders. “What—did your dad instruct the prince and his consort to inform you of your impending engagement?”
“I wish.” The response was so quiet that Lee wasn’t sure whether he’d been meant to hear it.
“Alex?”
With a shaky breath, Alex dragged a hand through his hair. “Can I come over in a bit?”
“Is that even still a question?” Lee asked, and God, he wanted to touch Alex. Kiss him, unbutton that shirt and ease it off his shoulders, down his arms—but even more so, he wanted to find out what was wrong. “I’m in 412.”
“Oh.” The corners of Alex’s mouth pulled down. “I’m on the third floor.”
Mildly inconvenient, but nothing they couldn’t navigate. “Just bring yourself, then.” Lee shrugged. “Nothing odd about you wandering the hallways fully dressed. There are pillows for two, and we can share the cover.”
A tiny, relieved smile flickered over Alex’s face. “Fifteen minutes?”