Page 23 of Suspicions on the Stage
“Damn it, Briarton,” I mutter as I push off the door and slink over to my dresser. “You’re an idiot of the highest order and have been for years. Now you have to figure out how the hell to quit being an ass and make it up to him, especially because you want them both.”
Yanking my shirt over my head, I grunt in irritation at my own stupidity. I toss it toward the hamper, then strip off the rest ofmy clothes, heading into my en suite to take a quick shower. I make it as fast as I can, padding into my bedroom to dig up the most casual loungewear I own. If I’m going to stop being the man my shithead father tried to train me to be, I need to stop doing the things I learned at his fucking feet.
Once I’m clean, fresh, and dressed in a tee and sweatpants, I slip on trainers and look in the mirror. I don’t look a damn thing like a Briarton should when spending time with his superior and a Prince, but that’s a good thing. I want to make changes—real, lasting ones—and not putting on a costume everywhere I go is a start. It seems small, but I can barely remember a time when I didn’t see my father in a suit or dressy casual clothes that were perfectly pressed and accessorized.
Growth doesn’t come easily, but it always starts small, and this is my first step.
how you like that
MORGANA
While Iggy, Slade, and Kaspar escape the pleasantly fresh-smelling house to get cleaned up, I trudge upstairs behind Lucas and Liam. I don’t need to shower, but I want to get comfortable during the brief strategy session and dinner. Lucas is already in the shower in the main bedroom, and I guess Li is using the one near the guest rooms. I don’t bother shutting the door; I just strip my clothes off, tossing them towards the laundry basket in the corner as I walk to my dresser. I smile at the neatly organized drawers that scream Slade—he worked on getting the leftover clothes from everywhere and sent them out to the trash when the guys helped me air out this room.
The dresser is big and the drawers deep, so the one holding my lingerie is full, stacked by type, as if Marie Kondo went crazy on my stuff. I grab comfortable undergarments, then yank open drawers until I find lounge gear. A pair of yoga pants and a ripped tee shirt later, I’m wiggling into my garments, then picking up the brush on top of the enormous piece of furniture. Running it through my long black hair, I scrunch it into a messy bun and sigh in relief.
I’m not an introvert, per se, but I’ve learned the value of using a cozy atmosphere at home to help maintain my peace since the trial.
“Lucas?” I call out loudly enough that he can hear me over the shower. “Heading downstairs to wait with Channing.”
The sound of the door sliding open in the bathroom is followed by him replying, “Aces, babe. See you in a few.”
More slippery sounding movements emanate and I chuckle as I realize my prince is in there with my adorable bear. Smiling happily, I turn on my heel and head down to join my friend. Knowing they’re enjoying the newness of their relationship makes my chest tighten with emotion. I hum as I head down the steps and pad through the trophy room to the back living area. Channing pulled our luggage in here to get it closer to the laundry room, and that makes me grin even more. She’s really a diamond in the rough that everyone passed over—something I will not ignore, as the man in my position did previously.
“Morgana?”
Turning, I follow the sound of her voice through the kitchen and out onto the back patio. My assistant has the patio enclosure pulled down, the fire pit stoked to a steady warmth in the middle of the circle of furniture. She’s made the area cozy and comfortable in preparation, which is just another example of how fucking amazing she is at her job. “Damn, you’re good, woman.”
Channing blushes, pushing her glasses up as she points to the newly mounted flat screen on the back wall of the house. “Lucas and Prince Liam left very specific instructions about what renovations to do in what order to help get your houseinto livable condition. One of them was to have contractors add the enclosure and various comforts out here, and the other immediate request was the basic deep clean on the main floor.”
Those fuckers definitely paid for this and didn’t mention the extent of their plans.
“Well, you did a hell of a job,” I reply as I look around the remodeled patio that’s been turned into a full-on outdoor suite with seating, tables, a kitchen/grill area, a bar, a firepit, and an adjustable enclosure for weather proofing. “This had to cost enough to pay two more assistants for an entire year.”
She coughs, looking away. “I’m not supposed to disclose that information. I was instructed to refer you to the guys. Sorry, Morgana.”
Snorting as I shake my head, I wave my hand at her. “Don’t feel bad, Chan. You don’t have to be in the middle of our friendly power struggle over their obscene amounts of wealth. I wouldn’t want to spend the money on something that could end up not being permanent, and I’d never spend school funds to fix up this dump like Magnus did. I know why they had you doing this stealthily.”
“Thank hell,” she breathes as she bustles over to the bar and pours two glasses of bourbon from a fancy outdoor decanter set. “I didn’t want you to be mad, but I also kinda agreed that you deserve for this place to be completely transformed. You shouldn’t even recognize it as what it was when you got here; it just perpetuates the trauma from that asshole.”
Damn—she’s gotten even saucier. Wonder if that’s from the guys at her ‘side gig’.
Walking over, I take my stainless steel glass from her and clink it with hers before I take a sip. The bourbon is expensive—deliciously aged and smooth as it slides down my throat. This is definitely one thing this state has on lock down and I’m here for it. “Now, talk to me about how to work this crap. I’m pretty sure we’re going to break stuff down that we all want to look at, and I’m hoping this tech will help us.”
Channing grins broadly. “Thanks to Eli helping me; it most definitely will. Just wait until I show you our new information hub.”
Nice to know they built me an HQ, while I was off threatening bikers and meeting demons.
Lucas and Liampop out of the back door with pleased looks and low-hanging sweats. Liam’s hair is gathered in a topknot and Lucas is deliciously opposite with his blond hair and tanned skin. I watch them slink over to grab drinks for a moment, unable to continue fiddling with the TV/monitor when they look so tasty.
“Close your mouth, Morgana. You’ll catch flies,” Channing says as she smothers a giggle.
Whipping my head around to glare at her, I find I don’t really have a retort. My nose wrinkles and I stick my tongue out at her, raising a middle finger to top it off. She laughs even harder, her eyes dancing as I try to focus on the multimedia setup again. “Shut up.”
Liam comes over, dropping onto the big couch beside me, and puts his feet up on the extended ottoman. “You did exceptionally well with this, Channing. I’m impressed.”
“Thank you, prince,” she says, looking flustered at his praise. “I had some help with the tech, of course. And um, some of Jackson’s people came over to make sure everything and everyone who came to this place was checked for magic or bad intentions. I wanted to make certain we weren’t adding to the issues we already have here.”
Lucas beams at her. “No fucking poisoned food or hexed housewares then?”
