I wasn't chosen because I was special.I was chosen because I was available and geopolitically convenient.My complete lack of qualification was outweighed by my lack of Russian connections.
The Grand Duchess had lied to secure my cooperation.Or at minimum, had withheld the truth about what I was signing.
And Archie had known.Every time I'd mentioned the six months, every conversation about what came after, every moment when I'd talked about going home, he'd known I was operating under false assumptions, and he'd said nothing.
I thought about the night we'd slept together.How vulnerable I'd been.How I'd told myself it was safe to let my guard down because it was temporary.
He'd held me and touched me and made me feel safe, all while knowing I was trapped in a permanent arrangement I'd never agreed to.
The Peter deception was nothing compared to this.At least with Peter, he'd been trying to get to know me.
Archie was in his study - I'd seen the light under his door when I'd passed earlier.And we were going to have a conversation right now.Not tomorrow.Not when I'd calmed down.Now, while the rage was still burning hot enough to get through this without breaking.
I grabbed the marriage contract and headed for the door.
CHAPTER 18
Archie
The sabotage reportswere spread across my desk in what Roberto called a "timeline analysis" but what looked more like organized chaos.Incident dates, access logs, staff schedules, security footage timestamps, all arranged in overlapping patterns that were starting to form a picture I didn't like.
"The luggage damage occurred during a fifteen-minute window when the security cameras were offline," I muttered, making notes in the margin."And the speech substitution happened during a shift change when no one was monitoring the document room."
Someone was exploiting gaps in our security.Someone who knew the palace systems well enough to identify those gaps in the first place.
I pulled up the access logs for the music room on the day Betty's dance lesson had been sabotaged.Three people had entered that morning: the instructor, a maintenance worker checking the heating system, and,
My door burst open.
I looked up, already forming a greeting, and the words died in my throat.
Betty stood in the doorway holding a leather folder I recognized immediately.The household copy of our marriage contract.Her face was white except for two bright spots of color high on her cheeks, and her eyes,
I'd never seen anyone look at me with that particular combination of fury and betrayal.
"When were you planning to tell me?"Her voice was calm.Too calm.The kind of calm that preceded hurricanes.
