4. Wesley
4
WESLEY
The onboarding process is quick.
After two hours of paperwork and protocol review, I’m sent to retrieve my things from home. My roommate, Noah, is furious that I’m leaving without warning. I offer to pay another month’s rent just to shut him up.
It’s past dinnertime when Jack leads me to my condo in the guest wing. The only time I was near anything royal-related was at age thirteen. My summer camp took us on a tour of the botanical gardens, but I only remember being so focused on getting Anastasia Rosso’s attention. We ended up kissing in a gazebo.
Jack stops in front of the door and holds up a single key. “There’s a map of the palace on the kitchen counter. Be in the east wing Antonia room at eight tomorrow morning.” He steps closer. “Andrew was being nice. I stuck my neck out to get you this job. Don’t screw it up.”
My stomach sinks. My skills don’t speak for themselves after all. I take the key. “Yes, sir.”
He gives my single duffle bag a long glance before walking off.
Inside is a fancy efficiency with a king-size bed and a kitchen blocked off by a breakfast bar. The bathroom is enormous and there’s even a balcony overlooking the garden. To my surprise, the refrigerator and cupboards are stocked with foods like fresh fruit, protein bars, and canned goods. Even the linen closet is a mini drugstore.
I plop on the end of the bed with a huff as dizziness overtakes me. Twelve weeks ago, crime bosses fought over who I got to kill for. Ten weeks ago, I made my first good decision in years. Six weeks ago, that decision nearly cost me my life. Thanks to Jack, it only cost my job instead. This morning, I was roommates with a guy allergic to showers.
Now, I’m in the fucking royal palace to be a security detail for a princess the country doesn’t know it has.
I take a hot shower and trim my beard before studying the file about my client—Nina. She’s won plenty of academic awards and even took her high school volleyball team to the championship her senior year. Every Instagram photo and Facebook post she’s ever put out there is included. Pulling up her Instagram now, I see it’s private with fewer posts than on file.
I note the frequency and content of her pictures. Very few of her face in high school—mostly with her friends or sister. Nina doesn’t post or wear anything remotely revealing, but her volleyball uniform hugs her curves. There are a few photos with two different boyfriends, and whoever researched her concluded that her recent breakup was because he cheated. Who could cheat on her? She’s perfect—at least on paper.
The file depicts the tension between her and her father. After a second glance, I notice she’s posted nothing including him until her college years.
Under a section solely about her father, it states he worked as an architect manager for thirty years, had frequent alcohol purchases, and attended AA on and off. He was a man grieving his wife, no doubt. Nina likely had to grow up fast, creating distance between her and Pierce.
I examine the information hours into the night. It’s the first time since my life imploded that the night is dead silent. I stare at the ceiling, knowing that nightmares will haunt me when I fall asleep.
In the morning, I text Mom with hesitant fingers, explaining that I have a new job and will get in touch when I can. Memories slit my chest open every time I talk to my family. Our final interaction years ago was ugly; they saw a hint of the person I had become, and I knew it was better to leave before they saw the rest.
I arrive early to the meeting. Relief washes over me when spotting an Antonia statue marking the room. I walk past the Maldanian goddess to find others already waiting. Jack introduces me to Mason Antoni, a retired military soldier assigned to Maia. He’s around six-one of a similar build to my own. His hair is more gray than brown, and a beard clouds his unsmiling face. There are two others—Gregory and Silas—whose appearances I instinctively memorize.
Jack flicks on a projector at one end of the conference table. “Now, we were given the itinerary, but Mr. Laffley stressed that this news will likely throw it out the window,” he explains.
Still, we review the blueprints and environment of listed and unlisted locations before discussing Mineté and its known gangs. Even though it’s unsafe, many tourists will visit because it’s the city’s oldest neighborhood. As Nina learns about the country, there’s a possibility she’ll visit. Her safety risk increases even without public knowledge of her lineage. She’s beautiful—both sisters are. Dangerous men in those neighborhoods will notice that.
And Maldanian men are notorious for wanting to make themselves known.
Possibly because we’re so forgotten on the world stage. Maldana is a low-threat, low-risk country. Most of us cherish that, some of us resent it. We want to be taken seriously.
Working with Santiago, I was.
I was feared as his soldier. Trakas was ready to make me a millionaire because of it. But I was loyal to Santiago—to a fault. Despite the darkness rapidly growing inside of me, I had everything I wanted. I will never be brought to justice for any of it. I caress the burn scar on the back of my left hand, its soft, raised flesh still tender.
“Beck,” Jack says.
I blink. “Sir.”
I clench and unclench my wounded hand as he slides over a work phone. I push down my near-constant self-deprecating thoughts and study the iPhone. It has the appropriate numbers saved, and the case has a built-in, scan-protected wallet with proof of employment and a credit card.
The only times I’ll be off duty are when Nina is on private palace grounds and when the night team—Gregory and Silas—starts monitoring the princesses once they go to bed. Cameras line the hallways of their hotel.
Jack instructs us of safety points and their code names if we’re separated or compromised even though many of these preparations will never be used. A thrill jumps down my spine while we take time to study the blueprints of the hotel. Regardless of how unlikely an attack is, planning for it requires well-rounded considerations that never cease to interest me. It’s a single puzzle piece with many different outcomes. My dexterity in preparation helped me succeed—except I used it for the wrong people for years.
After the long day of meetings and briefings, I flop into bed at seven p.m. Once the Laffleys arrive in the country tomorrow, I’ll sleep even less than I do now. Jack instructed Mason and me to dine at a nearby table during dinner and monitor from a distance until they return to their hotel.
My fear of the inevitable nightmares usually keeps me from falling asleep. Tonight, it’s the anticipation for the future. The money from this contract will last me at least another year. What happens after that, I don’t know. I have to become someone entirely new. Do I want my family to be part of that?
I lie back, staring at the ceiling.
Years ago, I became El Revalté, the Ghost. He was known for his deadly silence, for creating ghosts without a trace.
Santiago gave me that name, thinking I would be thrilled. And it stuck. Underground, I was known solely as El Revalté. Above ground, I was Beck, never Wesley.
El Revalté will never die—he’s already dead. He’s a stain on my soul that I’m forced to carry into every room. Mom, Cora, John, and Joey deserve a family member without such darkness.
I shut my eyes.
Just try.