Page 16 of Risky Match
“Have you lost anyone investigating the coin thefts?”
“No, but please proceed with caution throughout this mission. We don’t want you to be the first. Your bodyguard will be your backup if necessary.”
“Does that mean Erin can be given the details of the mission?”
“No. As always, she will know you’re on a mission and will be on heightened alert. That’s all.”
“I understand.”
“Good. May you succeed in secret. Good luck.”
After reciting this Cover Royals motto, the screen goes blank before I can respond.
Before viewing the images of the coins, I take a moment to process the contents of the briefing.
After mentally reviewing the call and committing the details to memory, my mind settles on the fact that two agents have been lost. It’s possible they were killed in unrelated accidents, but that sounds unlikely to me. I can only hope that Walter is correct that the coin smuggling part of this conspiracy is less deadly. That thought sends an ominous chill through me.
No wonder my parents weren’t keen on my involvement in this CRM.
My training may be more important than I’d thought.
4
BRIANNA
Four days later.
Standing outside my parents’ palace apartment, I wait for their butler to let me in. The delay gives me time to mentally run through my list of remaining questions about the mission. Hopefully, my parents will answer them during breakfast this morning.
With a click, the door swings open, and the familiar, silver-haired gentleman ushers me inside.
“Good morning, Grayson. Are my parents in the dining room?”
“They are, Your Royal Highness” he says, bowing his head to me. He’s old school like my parents and believes in maintaining tradition, but his formality feels awkward given our history. I’ve known my parents’ butler since I was a small child. He used to slip me pieces of chocolate in exchange for promises to behave. As I grew older, it became a game. I’d threaten to do something egregious to extract chocolate from him. His wink told me he knew I was kidding, but it was our secret.
The memory makes me smile. Holding my hand out, I say, “Perhaps I should knock over the pitcher of orange juice this morning for old times’ sake.”
He wags his finger. “Tsk, tsk. There will be none of that today.”
A foil-wrapped square drops gently into my palm. It’s better than a hug from a favorite uncle.
“I guess I’ll have to be good today,” I tease.
It sounds childish, but this exchange is our way of showing affection.
“Enjoy your breakfast and good luck at Wimbledon. I’ll be watching,” he calls after me.
“Thanks. I’ll do my best,” I say over my shoulder, hurrying to the dining room. I’m anxious for answers. It’s my last chance to learn more details before my team’s flight leaves for London later today.
Entering my parent’s private dining room, my plan instantly goes up in smoke. In addition to my parents, my older brothers, Xander and Evan, are waiting for me.
“Surprise!” Xander says as he gives me a hug.
“I thought you two were both traveling.”
“We were, but we had to congratulate you in person and give you a proper send off,” Evan says.
We’ve always been close, but it’s touching that my brothers flew back just for breakfast. I appreciate their support even if I’d hoped to corner my parents alone this morning.
