Chapter 3
R aphael
A yawn came over my comms. “How much longer?” Will asked.
Johnnie’s voice returned, “Ten minutes.”
I hadn’t seen anything of Jared since we got in the building, nor had he emerged when the arsehole attendee had grabbed hold of Alexandra.
Internally, I bristled, trying to keep my emotion off my face.
I was a stand-in. Will had filled me in on how the fourth member of their team, Toni, had needed emergency time off because his mother was ill in a hospital in another country. He’d made a joke about it.
It all added up to an increasingly negative view I had of Princess Alexandra’s security.
From first impressions, they were sloppy as fuck. For starters, mostly absent Jared had treated me with disdain, though I made up a quarter of his protection unit. I knew nothing of their practices, how they communicated and the language used to alert to situations. The team had taken over handling the incident with the attendee, but once outside, the man had been released without a word. We didn’t know his name. We didn’t have a picture or anything to tie back to this event should we encounter him again.
And no one gave a fuck when I challenged them on it. I’d demanded an ID check, and Will had told me to stop worrying, though that activity was part of our job.
All of this was so different to how we looked after Leo, and he was arguably less vulnerable than a princess.
I was equally certain my feedback would not be well received, but I’d give it to Ben and he could talk to the owner of the business. To ignore it would be enabling a potential attack, and I couldn’t allow that.
Princess Alexandra continued her steady circulation, mingling with a group of artists and smiling, though without the same energy from earlier. When we’d got here, she’d been bubbly and excited, but that had changed. Probably from the handsy attendee.
I didn’t take my eyes off her. Not as she concluded her talks and signalled to Riss that it was time to leave, nor as she congratulated the gallery owners and stepped out into the hall, and certainly not as we readied to emerge into the street.
She shone. Even if her mood was blue, she radiated something compelling that commanded my attention and had my body on high alert. Aside from being gorgeous, with that luxurious brunette hair and brown eyes, high cheekbones, and expertly applied make-up emphasising her lips, she was magnetic. Every time she lowered her eyelashes, I got lost in the sweep back up. Every graceful move caught up in a spell.
She shimmered in a sparkly dress and tasteful jewellery, every inch the nation’s treasure. The one they loved to see up to no good.
Through the art gallery’s glass frontage, a selection of photographers were still visibly present, but the gallery staff who had been at the barrier and checking invitations were no longer there. The gap between the fences was wide open, and members of the public milled either side.
It meant the princess would need to walk straight through them to reach the vehicles at the road.
My pulse sped up, and I pulled up short and put a finger to my earpiece. “Insecure exit. Crowd control required.”
“Negative. Just get in the fucking cars,” Jared reported back.
I swore and hustled to keep my position in our formation. This time, I was on Alexandra’s right, and she slid me a curious look.
It was strange being close to someone I knew but couldn’t acknowledge. Maybe at the other end of the journey, she’d stop and say hi or ask me what the hell I was doing here.
There wasn’t time to think about that. We emerged into the warm night, and cameras lifted.
My heart thumped faster.
I’d hoped to find Jared out here managing the crowd, but he was striding on ahead and ignoring the very obvious danger in his hurry to leave. Across the other side of Alexandra, Riss, a formidable and solid woman with black hair in a tight bun, held herself with lethal poise, muscles bunched like she was ready to throw down.
We descended the steps. At the front of our diamond, Johnnie called out for the people around to make way. Some did. Others ignored him, maybe wilfully, or maybe because they had no idea who was amongst them.
I scanned every face. Searched every hand.
We reached the barrier, tightening our formation to move through as one.
Suddenly, on the far side, a man lurched forward.
“Riss, hard left,” I snapped.
The bodyguard spun to face the danger. I recognised the man. It was the guy from inside the gallery.
“Princess Lexi, how did you enjoy the naked portraits?” He stuck a phone in front of her face, but Riss instantly blocked his reach. “Tell us why you were so fascinated by the sexy pictures.” He struggled to get past Riss.
I wanted to fucking deck him but kept going, and we adjusted our positions to cover the bodyguard left behind.
A few metres further and we reached the safety of the cars. The chauffeur had the doors open, and the princess climbed inside. He closed her in but hesitated.
“Is one of you accompanying her?” he asked.
Riss had travelled down in Alexandra’s car but was still occupied in keeping the threat at bay. We needed to leave, immediately. Yet neither of the other men were moving, and Jared was already in the first vehicle.
It wasn’t my place, but I took charge. “I can.”
Johnnie shrugged. “Go for it.”
Without further delay, I rounded the car and climbed in the other side. My action seemed to speed everyone else up. Riss gave up being a human blockade and joined the two others in the final car, and we set out.
It took several streets of distance before my heart calmed and I stopped scanning our surroundings, wondering what the ever-loving hell had just happened.
Then awareness gathered around me.
I was alone, mostly, in a plush car with a woman who was staring at me. I faced her.
“Hey, Alex.” Why was I launching in with the informal? “I mean Your Highness.”
Her expression slipped to incredulous. “Bodyguards usually stick with ‘ma’am’. Only friends refer to me as Alex.”
I blinked, annoyed, even if she was right. “Excuse me. We were friends, once.”
“You are not excused. As I recall, you didn’t act very friendly last I saw you, and that was a long time ago.”
I let out a breath that was fifty percent irritation and the other part relief that she remembered me as much as I did her. “I was trying to help.”
The cars merged onto a busy road, nose-to-tail evening traffic slowing our progress. Alexandra didn’t reply.
“Your security is shite. Does that kind of thing happen often?”
She glanced at the driver. “Why are you on my team, Raphael?”
So she remembered my name. “I work for another crew and was borrowed as a favour to replace your fourth team member.”
An expression crossed her face, too fast for me to pin it down, but it was something close to sadness. “Toni is with his dying mother. They weren’t going to let him leave, but I insisted. Awfully random to have you appear in his place, but anyway, your criticism of my bodyguard team is noted. Now you’ve gifted me your so-valuable insight based on a few hours of experience, there’s no reason to continue this conversation.”
I stared back, open-mouthed. “You used to be nice.”
She collected her phone from her wee bag, keeping it low and out of sight of the windows. “I used to be a lot of things until someone stripped his shirt and ruined it all.”
Silence fell around us, thick and heavy.
Had to get my mind off the night in question. Of half-naked me and sweet, hot her. Of the fact she obviously blamed me for it.
“I should’ve tackled that man and left Riss to deal with ye.” I just couldn’t help the gripe.
She didn’t even look up. “At least Riss would allow me some peace and quiet after a stressful evening.”
Fucking hell.
None of this had been what I’d expected. I’d imagined reconnecting with Alex again. Getting a chance to apologise to her had been important to me, but I’d assumed she’d accept my explanation. That I’d work for her with extra diligence because of our shared history.
Only in the last part was I right. Princess Alexandra was still pissed off with me even years later, and any apology I could make would fall on deaf ears.
A short while later, we were back at the palace. Our car halted, and I readied myself to wish her a good evening, but someone opened her door and she swept out, her heels clicking on the cobblestones as she disappeared into the house.
I followed more slowly, seeking out Jared. The man reached the entrance. I called his name. He didn’t stop.
A hand landed on my shoulder, and Johnnie turned me. “The boss asked me to show you our digs. Beer after?”
Adrenaline still coursed through me, but I agreed and let myself be managed. Though every instinct yelled at me to fix the things I knew were wrong.
I n a modern pub on Islington Avenue, with a football match blaring on a TV screen that took up most of one wall, I nursed a beer, the glass cool against the still-warm night.
Johnnie and Will watched the match and talked shite about the teams. I was stuck in my funk.
My phone buzzed, and I lifted it to find Ben’s name on my screen.
“Got to take this,” I said to the others, not that they were paying any attention to me.
Outside, I found a quiet spot against the wall and answered my boss. “Thank fuck. A rational person.”
Ben chuffed a laugh. “Ye haven’t found much of that there?”
“Understatement of the year.”
“Talk to me.”
In a rapid list, I gave him my thoughts, ending with, “If your friend, Barrington, wants a kidnapping on his hands, he’s close to getting his wish. Their setup is the sloppiest shite I can imagine.”
“He messaged me an hour ago with feedback. His team lead, Jared, took credit for a good evening’s work, and advised Barry that his training enabled ye to act quickly when the photographer launched at your subject.”
My mouth fell open in incredulity. “He has to be fucking kidding. Jared told me nothing. He didn’t even stop when that happened.”
“Yet took all the credit. Aye, he did. But there’s more. Have ye checked the headlines tonight?”
I frowned. “No. Was it reported?”
My phone vibrated with a link Ben had forwarded me from a gossip site. I opened it. The headline screamed: ‘Sexy Lexi’s Eye for Naked Ladies’ and was accompanied by a shot of one of the portraits displayed in the gallery, the princess nearby. The article went into detail about how Alex had been enamoured with that specific painting and how that meant she had a kinkier side than the newspaper had guessed at.
I growled frustration. “That is gross.”
“What’s interesting to me is how unbothered Barry was. If this was Leo, his publicist would be up in arms.”
I knew that to be true. Leo weathered an enormous amount of publicity. Rumours of the breakup of his marriage were frequently touted because it made money for the sites that gossip-seekers visited. The fact he and Viola were the perfect couple with two sons and a wonderful life together meant nothing.
“Ye can’t stop them talking shite but ye can keep them away so they can’t get the shot,” Ben grumbled.
I closed the article. “The whole event was a shitshow. I’m gutted that I didn’t see the guy taking pictures of her inside the place.”
My brain refreshed the scene. It had to be the man who’d grabbed Alexandra. He was a chancer paparazzo who’d got onto the guest list somehow, and the phone in her face outside was his last-ditch attempt to get a reaction. We absolutely should’ve taken his details. There was nothing stopping the arsehole from trolling her next event as he clearly had access.
I scanned the article again then asked a question of my boss. “How can I get hold of the photographer’s name? The article didn’t have an author or any credits.”
He clucked his tongue. “Leave it with me.” A pause followed. “You’re only there a few days, but why do I get the impression you’re going to turn that team on its head?”
I didn’t have the right. Jared wouldn’t listen to me, and a glance through the window showed me the two boozy bodyguards who I suspected wouldn’t give a damn. Barrington might, though. Riss was another possibility. All I knew was I couldn’t ignore the gaping holes in the protection they provided.
I said goodbye to my boss with a promise to catch up the following day. The tightness in my chest still hadn’t gone. If a wannabe journalist or photographer was able to get as close to Alexandra as the man had today, a stalker or someone who meant her harm had equal chance.
It couldn’t be allowed. I had to do something about it, even if they didn’t like it.
Another message landed, this time from my best friend and in our team’s group chat.
Jackson: What do bodyguards and testicles have in common?
I thumbed a reply of a sobbing emoji because his jokes were the worst, just as another of our team answered.
Valentine: They’re ugly and hairy?
Valentine: WAIT, they come in pairs? Tell me I’ve got this right.
Jackson: They’re always behind a big dick. I actually like your answers better.
Without planning it, I dialled my friend. Jackson and I had gone to Edinburgh Uni together. He knew a little of my history with the princess but not the full story.
Jackson picked up immediately. “Miss me that much, huh? It’s been one day.”
I sighed. “Maybe a bit. I…just needed to run something by ye.”
“Hit me.”
How did I start? I didn’t even know what I wanted to say. “I talked to Alex today.”
“Ye mean Her Royal Highness Princess Alexandra?” He put on a posh voice. “Was she snarky with ye?”
“Aye, a little. I didn’t expect it.” Or maybe I had and I wasn’t being honest with myself.
“I never got the full story of what happened. Tell me and I might be able to suggest a way to fix it.”
In a rush of time, I was eighteen and reliving the scene. “It was a comedy of errors. I was studying when my phone started blowing up with messages from other aviation students who were at a house party. They go hard and were trashed. I gave up my books to join them. In the party, I spotted Alex.”
She’d been dancing in the sweltering, sweaty living room in just a cropped top and booty shorts. I’d gotten a shot of lust so damning I was stunned. Then I took in the bigger picture and clocked the way some of the other men were looking at her. One in particular was trying to get close enough to rub up against her. I’d had a bad feeling about him.
“She was with another lass who I knew, and I took her friend aside and said I was worried about Alex getting felt up by this guy who was watching her. The friend listened and pulled Alex out, bringing her to me to explain. She was annoyed. Not at me, but at the fact she couldn’t go anywhere without trouble. There was always someone wanting a piece of her. I told her she could dance closer to me and I’d make sure no one touched her.”
Jackson made a funny sound. “No wonder ye ended up a bodyguard.”
“Shame I didn’t have the skill back then. She danced with me and her friend. When the other lass went to get a drink, Alex looped her hands around my neck and got right up close.”
“Wait. I can’t believe it’s taken ye five years to tell me the story. Ye dirty danced with a princess?”
I swallowed, because what came next destroyed any of the good feeling from our minutes alone where I’d kept my touch on the curve of her waist but she’d grazed hers under my t-shirt. “Someone took a picture, not of us, but the flash brought me to my senses. I spun around to shield her from it. Alex’s friend returned in that same second, and we jogged her arm so she spilled her revoltingly sweet cocktail over Alex. She was a sticky mess. Alex slipped into the bathroom to clean up, and I waited outside with no clue what to do. Then I had the bright idea to knock on the door and offer my shirt.”
“Which she accepted?”
“She did.” I’d never forgotten how hot she looked in my clothes when she emerged from the bathroom. “I still felt that overprotective vibe, so escorted her out.”
She’d kissed me on the cheek, the heat and scent of her driving me wild again.
“I opened the door for her, and she nudged against me as she passed. It was the exact second a waiting paparazzo took a picture. It was all over the news the next day. My face was in shadow so couldn’t be made out, but I was bare-chested, and the princess was in an oversized man’s t-shirt in the doorway of a house, as if leaving a hookup. The gossip rags had a field day. They never identified me, but it was humiliating for Alex who had to endure asinine commentary on her letting loose in her student years and implying she was sleeping around.”
Jackson swore low. “That’s hardly your fault.”
“I flew at the guy and threatened to break his camera. He took off running, and when I turned around, Alex had gone.”
“Ah, with the assumption that you’d made it worse. She hasn’t spoken to you since?”
“She was only in Edinburgh for a short time. She moved on without me ever getting a chance to clear my name.”
“Why would ye need to?”
“I think she thought it was an act because I’d set her up.”
There was a pause. “Like you were the one who called in the photographer? Why would she think that?”
“I don’t know. Maybe because I’d sidelined her at the start? Her friend never spoke to me again, though, so it’s just my assumption.” Plus her attitude tonight doubled down on my hunch.
He made a sound of derision. “Ye were in hiding. Ye had even less reason than her to be splattered all over the tabloids.”
“She didn’t know that.”
It was true. At age fifteen, I’d fled my Mafia-wannabe father with my younger sister in tow. Ariel was now dating Jackson, and the older brother we moved to live with, Gabe, was due a baby any day with his wife, Effie. Things had turned out good for us. Princess Alexandra’s existence appeared not to have changed at all.
Jackson gave up words of comfort. “I know ye. Injustice bothers the fuck out of ye. Clear the air with her. Fix it and regain your peace of mind.”
He was right. I’d find a way.
We said our goodbyes, and I breathed a little easier, the conversation having brought peace to my frazzled soul. That fell away when my gaze touched on a scene across the street.
Islington Avenue was home to dozens of bars, restaurants, and other busy venues. Directly across from where I stood was an exclusive nightclub, the name HELL lit up by neon-orange lights swirling in the summer night. It was after eleven, and a line formed with clubgoers to the right of the entrance, many of the crowd wearing masks of light scraps of lace or more elaborate designs of demons and angels.
To the other side was an unlit alley that led down the left of the building. A taxi had slid into it and stopped by the club’s side door. My gaze locked on to a couple falling from the car, the light from the vehicle’s interior highlighting their features.
Princess Alexandra giggled and stumbled on her sky-high heels, a wig covering her hair but not fooling me for more than a second. Her companion, a tall lad in expensive clothes and with floppy blond hair in his eyes appearing every bit like a European prince, threw an arm around her, an e-cigarette held between his lips. He was familiar, though I couldn’t place where I knew him from, but he was rolling as much as she was.
The two of them tied masks to their faces and entered the club. I almost choked at the attempt at disguise. It wasn’t enough.
My principal had snuck out without any security.
I was moving before I even registered what I intended to do.