Page 172 of Mexico Can Choke On It
“I had to subdue you to get you alone. Which meant immobilizing your arms so I could—”
“No, explain why we’re here, not how you got me here, you lying, cheating jackass.”
“Oh. Nigel caught sight the moment you arrived and sent me to retrieve you.”
“Great. So much for my career in espionage.”
“He’s coming to meet us,” Bryce continues, not taking his eyes off me. “You look… Christ, you’re stunning.”
My traitorous heart tries to soar, but I squash it like a bug.
Nope. Not falling for that shit anymore.
I point the taser at his chest. “Save the smooth talk for your next sneaky fuck. I’m not here to relive mistakes. My brother is about to marry a con artist, and somebody needs to stop him.”
Bryce raises his hands slowly. “Agreed and understood. I’m also here for him.”
“Then why are we playing hide-and-seek in the linen closet? Shouldn’t we be dragging Gavin away from the altar?”
“There’s a lot that’s happened since you left—”
The closet door swings open, and Nigel appears holding Miss Muffy like she’s a furry Fabergé egg, dressed in a suspiciously familiar peach dress.
“Miss Brinkman,” Nigel says briskly. “What a pleasure to have you with us again. I’m afraid we haven’t time for pleasantries.”
I stare at the ruffly peach gown, then at the dog. “Is that… my bridesmaid’s dress?”
Nigel nods, adjusting the dog’s glittering tiara. “Miss Whitfield made a last-minute substitution.”
The absurdity lands hard and fast. “Let me get this straight. I got replaced by a dog.”
“Indeed.” Nigel turns to Bryce. “How much have you told her?”
“None of it,” Bryce admits. “I was waiting for you.”
“Well, howgentlemanlyof you both,” I snap. “Allow me to drop the first bomb: Fiona’s family is broke as hell. Her dad’s accounts are frozen, he’s running from the feds, and this whole wedding is an elaborate heist designed to drain my brother’s bank account.”
I blink. They look at me like I’m not done yet.
“Hello? No gasps? No ‘oh Petra, you brilliant sexy genius, we never should’ve doubted you’?”
Nigel nods. “Yes. The Whitfield estate is bankrupt. This wedding is a calculated play to secure your brother’s assets before the truth goes public.”
Bryce steps forward. “You were right about Echo and Fiona working together. But it’s worse than you thought.”
“When Mr. Sterling showed me Echo’s sketchpad,” Nigel begins, “I instantly recognized the gentleman depicted in those rather obsessive portraits. That man is His Royal Highness, the King of Liechtenstein.”
“The King of where-the-fuck? Is that a real place, or did you make that up?”
“Very real. Very small. Very rich,” Bryce interjects. “The kind of country that has more money than people.”
“What I failed to realize,” Nigel continues, “was that Echo had been serving as the artist-in-residence at the royal palace mere days before arriving here.”
“Echo poisoned him, Pip. Nearly killed the man. Those bizarre sandwich diagrams you discovered? That was his recipe book for royal assassination.”
I blink. “I’m sorry—did you just say hesandwich-poisoneda literal king?”
“To steal the reservation,” Nigel explains. “Interpol has been hunting for Echo, but they had no idea of his whereabouts until I contacted them with our suspicions.”
