Royally Screwed - Lynn Van Dorn Page 0,84

him was remaining behind with Angelo.

There was, predictably, a silver limo with the flag of Mirea waiting for them on the tarmac at the Mirean airport. Not being able to decide between black or white, Yuri’s parents had compromised on silver, which went well with the black, crimson, and silver of their country’s flag.

Malcom opened the back door of the limo for Yuri then sat himself in the front seat next to the driver. At once, Yuri saw the back of the limo was not empty. Alex sat there, waiting for him.

“Hello,” Alex said. “You’ve been causing quite the stir. Archie sends his regards and his thanks. Compared to the uproar those pictures have caused, his little threesome in Monaco has been all but forgotten by our father.”

Yuri flung himself into a seat and slammed the limo’s door shut. “Fuck him and fuck you, too.” So far, there was no word from either Philippe, Jacki, or Angelo and Yuri was wild with worry and in no mood for his brother’s quips or condescending concern.

“Why did you never tell us?” Alex asked, ignoring the insult.

“Tell you what?” Yuri looked out of the window at the Eruvian mountains instead of at his brother.

“That Angelo has been abusing you. We would’ve put a stop to it. No trade agreement is worth what was done to you.”

Yuri wanted to hit something and settled for striking his thigh with his balled fist. “Dammit,” he said. “Angelo didn’t do that to me. He’d never hurt me. Not like that.” Yuri shivered. “I should be by his side. It’s my fault he was stabbed. What’s he going to think when he wakes up and I’m not there?”

Alex’s mouth dropped open then he closed it. Finally he said, “I have far too many questions. If Angelo didn’t beat you then take those pictures, who did? How is it your fault he was stabbed? We were under the impression it was a mugging of some sort and that you weren’t present at the time. What’s going on, Yuri? I demand an explanation.”

“I don’t owe you anything,” Yuri groused. “You may be the heir, but you’re not that much older than me, and I’m an adult. I’d appreciate being treated like one.”

Alex waved away Yuri’s complaint like it was a troublesome fly that didn’t really matter. “Tell me about the pictures. Tell me why Angelo got stabbed. I’m on your side, you know. I’m always on your side. Tell me what the hell is going on and I’ll do whatever I can to help.”

Yuri deflated under his older brother’s persistent concern. “Blackheath. It’s all Blackheath.”

“That duke you were dating earlier this year? What exactly are you saying, Yuri?”

“He’s not a duke. He’s the heir to a dukedom. And I’m saying it was all him. He stabbed Angelo in front of my house. He had to have released the pictures as well, and he made it seem as if they had come from Angelo. I hate him. I wish I’d never met him.”

Alex was silent for what seemed like ages. “Are they faked?” he finally asked.

“Are what faked?” Yuri caught his first sight of Lake Foudre and knew they were almost home.

“The pictures, Yuri. Please tell me they’ve been Photoshopped or doctored in some way. Because otherwise…” Alex swallowed hard.

This was awful and exquisitely embarrassing, and he’d have to go through the same conversation with his parents. “I don’t want to talk about it. Not twice.”

“Oh, Yuri,” Alex said, a wealth of sadness in his tone.

“I asked for it,” Yuri snapped, unable to remain silent under his brother’s pity. “I wanted it. Well. At first. I was… it was… I can’t explain it. Not to you. But it started off as consensual. Even that last time, I asked for it. He just wouldn’t stop.” Yuri shivered despite himself and hugged his arms close to his chest.

“I… don’t know what to say.” Alex looked flabbergasted.

“That’s a first. Francis hurt me. He hurt me more than I wanted. Angelo was there and he saved me. That’s why he attacked Francis at Oxford. And I thought Francis had given up, because I hadn’t seen him for ages, then he popped up again, spouting a lot of mad nonsense. Angelo came. He knew I was upset. And then Francis attacked him. I think he was coming for me. That knife he had was for me. But Angelo stopped him, and was stabbed, and if he dies it’ll be all my fault.”

“More Blackheath’s fault, I should