Page 71 of Twins for the Off-Limits Lawyer

The casual way he acknowledged his relationship with Daphne—our shared secret, our mutual hypocrisy—somehow made the betrayal cut deeper. We'd both been living lies, but only one of us had been actively sabotaging the other.

"How long have you been helping her document my private life?"

"Three weeks of surveillance. Professional photographer, former MI5 apparently—your Mother doesn't do things by halves." James's voice carried a note of reluctant admiration that made my stomach turn. "The photos were supposed to be insurance, Edward. Leverage to convince you to end things quietly before they became professionally problematic."

"But they became public scandal anyway."

"That wasn't the original plan." James stood, moving to the window with the restless energy I'd seen him display during difficult negotiations. "The photos were supposed to remain private unless... unless other methods of persuasion failed."

"Other methods like destroying Lili's company?"

"I didn't know about the financial manipulation until Cece called me this morning." The words came out sharp, defensive. "Your Mother compartmentalized her strategy. I only knew my piece of it."

Cece made a sound of disgust. "Plausible deniability. How very convenient."

"It wasn't convenient," James shot back, then caught himself. "I'm sorry. I know how this looks. I know what I've done to our friendship."

The formal apology hung between us like a death sentence.

In twenty years, James had never apologized to me with such careful, diplomatic language. It felt like watching our friendship die in real time.

"You sat in my office," I said, my voice dropping to the tone that made opposing counsel nervous in court depositions. "You pretended to be concerned about my welfare while actively participating in my Mother's scheme to destroy the woman I love."

"I was concerned about your welfare. That was never pretense." James turned back to face me, and for the first time, I saw him without his diplomatic mask. "I watched you falling apart under the pressure of secrets. I watched you compromise your professional judgment for someone you'd known mere weeks. I thought... Christ, Edward, I thought I was saving you from yourself."

"By betraying me."

"By trying to prevent a larger catastrophe." His voice cracked slightly. "You have to understand—I've watched your Mother operate many times. I know what she's capable of when she perceives a threat to family interests. I thought if we gave her what she wanted quietly, privately, Lili could be protected from the worst of it."

The rationalization was so perfectly James—logical, diplomatic, completely missing the fundamental point about trust and loyalty.

"Protected?" I stood slowly, feeling the familiar calm that preceded my most devastating cross-examinations. "Lili lost her job, her visa status, her entire life in England. In what possible interpretation is that 'protection'?"

"It could have been worse." The words came out weaker than James probably intended.

"Worse? How could it possibly have been worse?"

"Your Mother could have destroyed her reputation permanently. Made her unemployable anywhere in media. Ensured she never worked in television again." James's diplomatic training was reasserting itself, his voice becoming more measured. "What happened was surgical, contained. Devastating, yes, but not total."

"Listen to yourself," Cece interjected. "You're talking about a woman's life like it's a strategic asset to be managed."

"Because that's how Lady Victoria sees everything," James replied. "People, relationships, careers—they're all variables in a larger equation. I thought if I could influence the calculation, make myself useful to her strategy, I could minimize the damage to everyone involved."

I stared at my oldest friend, seeing him clearly for perhaps the first time. The diplomat who'd been trained to serve power, who'd convinced himself that collaboration was a form of protection.

"Twenty years of friendship," I said softly. "Twenty years of trust. And you traded it all for the illusion that you could control my Mother's machinations."

"I was trying to save our friendship," James said desperately. "I thought if I could prevent a public scandal, if I could keep this private—"

"You destroyed our friendship the moment you chose her strategy over my trust." The words came out with crystalline clarity, each syllable carefully enunciated. "The moment you decided you knew better than I did what was good for my life."

James flinched as if I'd struck him.

For once, his diplomatic charm had no answer for the simple truth.

"Edward," he began, then stopped. "I'm sorry. I know that's inadequate, but—"

"It is inadequate. But more than that, it's irrelevant." I moved around my desk, the same motion I'd made thousands of times during our friendship. "Because this isn't about forgiveness or apologies. This is about trust, and you destroyed that beyond repair."

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