He didn’t understand how much that question hurt. He couldn’t. “Theo, I grew up in a double-wide that was one inspection away from being condemned. My mother drank herself stupid most days of the week, and when she didn’t have the cash to pay for that alcohol, she used other methods. My childhood washell. And when she went on a particularly brutal bender, she’d rant about how things were supposed to be different for her. About all the dreams her pregnancy with me had dashed to pieces. Dreams won’t get me anywhere but following in her footsteps.” She set her fork aside. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be an asshole, I swear. But what is an entertaining theoretical question for you is one that brings up a whole lot of emotional bullshit for me.”
“It seems we’re all destined for futures that are practical and stripped of dreams.” He downed the entirety of his drink and gave himself a shake. “I’m the one who should apologize. I’m feeling particularly morose today. It’s not a good look for me.”
Galen pushed to his feet and gathered their plates. “Thanks for telling us, Meg.” Here, in this place, he was softer than she’d ever seen him. Notsoft. She didn’t think there was a scenario where Galen could be soft. But it was as if the sea and the househad dulled some of his sharper edges. The anger that had rode him so hard for the last two weeks was nowhere in evidence.
She stood and walked around the table to press a kiss to Theo’s lips. “You don’t have to apologize for having a full spectrum of emotions, Theo.”
“Don’t I?” He shook his head. “I need some air.” He held up a hand before Galen could speak. “I’m not leaving the property. I’m going to take this bottle and go sit on the chair by the pool for a little bit.” He walked away before either of them could say anything.
Meg joined Galen at the sink. She grabbed a hand towel. “You wash. I’ll dry.” Through the window, she watched Theo stalk to one of the chairs and drop into it with a grace that he possessed even when angry. “Is he upset about the birth certificate or something else?”
“He’s pissed because I reminded him that we can’t have it all, no matter how much we want it.” He scrubbed a plate, rinsed, and handed it to her. “In a perfect world, Theo’s uncle wouldn’t be trying to kill us. He wouldn’t have a country he needs to serve more than he needs to pursue his own happiness.” He shot her a look. “You wouldn’t be going back to New York without us.”
“Galen…” She dried the plate. Meg didn’t usually make a habit of asking questions unless she knew she was willing to hear the truthful answer. But she couldn’t seem to help it with these two. “What would a perfect world look like for him?”
“For us,” he corrected. Galen kept washing, as if mulling it over. The tightness in his shoulders gave lie to that assumption, though. He knew what he wanted. He was just working around to voicing it. Finally he handed over the last pot and turned to face her. “You’d go back to New York, and we would, too. Theo would keep playing the stock market because it entertains him, though eventually we’d have to find some kind of business to buy to focus his ambition.” He leaned against the counter. “You’d goback to school, and we’d spend the next year or two going round and round while you yelled at us that you had your own life and yet somehow you’d end up in our bed again and again until we convinced you to stay. Eventually, you’d get over the fact we have money, and when you got bored with the accounting shit, you’d figure out that dream of yours and we’d go chase it down together.”
For a moment, she let herself picture it. Being with them. Creating a life together. It wouldn’t be easy. They were all strong personalities and there would be countless clashing in the future as they found a way to piece themselves together into a whole. But It was a lovely dream. “I’d make you work for it.”
“I know.” His lips twitched. “And without a doubt, you’d find ways to break the rules just so we’d punish you.”
She finished drying the last pan and set it aside. “It’s too bad it’s only a dream.”
“Yeah. Too bad.” He pulled her to him and wrapped his arms around her, both of them facing the window. Galen rested his chin on her head. “That man right there is destined for great things. He’s not ours, no matter what any of us want. He’s Thalania’s. If Theo had his way, he’d find a path forward where he gets us and he gets the throne. It doesn’t exist. And it’s breaking his fucking heart.”
Theodore had the birth certificate.
Phillip cursed. Read the report. Cursed again. He should have known better than to let Dorian handle this mess. The man was both inventive and cruel, but he had a soft spot for his son that prevented him from taking the necessary measures. He still thought the boy would fall into line, and so he hesitated.
Phillip couldn’t afford to hesitate.
Theodore might not know what that birth certificate signified yet, but he was too smart for anyone’s good. He’d figure it out.
It was time to escalate matters.
He reached for the phone and paused. Doing this through unofficial methods hadn’t worked. Calling for an official assassination of a former Crown Prince… It would get out. He didn’t have full control of the various departments yet. Theodore’s influence went too deep and though no one had stepped in when he was exiled, there was still a simmering resentment aimed directly at Phillip. They blamed him for making the choice he did, and there were key administrators who actively worked to make his life more difficult than it needed to be.
If it got out that he had ordered Theodore killed…
No, that wasn’t an option.
There had to be another way.
Ah. Yes. That will work nicely.
He dialed his head of security—well, technically, Isaac Kozlov was Edward’s head of security—and waited. A few seconds later, a gruff voice came on the line. “What can I do for you, my lord?”
“I need to see you immediately.”
“I’m on my way.”
Exactly two minutes later, Kozlov walked into his office and shut the door. He was a giant of a man, well over six feet tall and looked like he could lift the solid mahogany desk over his head without effort. A particularly brutal scar wrapped around his neck, and in the years that Phillip had known him, Kozlov had never once even attempted to hide it. It was distasteful.
Kozlov sat across from him. “What can I do for you, my lord?”
“I have just received information that Theodore is in danger. I need him extracted and brought back to Thalania.”
Kozlov didn’t blink his eerie gray eyes. “I haven’t seen this information. What is your source?”
