Page 69 of Wicked Queen

“The good news is that they assumed he went back to Silverstone,” Norris informed us all. “He stayed in London with a friend. That’s the most we know. We’re attempting to track his mobile signal.”

So, he’d had the good sense to turn off his phone—that was something. He had some experience with the paparazzi as a driver, but it wouldn’t prepare him to handle how frenzied they could become. He might be my brother, but his unofficial status meant he wasn’t protected by the various legislations that had been enacted to keep the leeches at a slightly safer distance. That would have to be rectified. If the stubborn arse would finally allow me to intervene on his behalf. Now that the world knew the truth, he would have to accept that.

“We could deny it,” Georgia said. “The press spin wild stories all the time.”

That was true, but it had been all too easy for the intrepid reporters to dig up enough facts to make it a more than viable theory. Anderson’s mother had worked for my father after my mother’s death. She’d disappeared only a few months before giving birth. Then I’d been photographed brawling with him weeks ago. It all pointed to the truth.

“We could, but we’ll never kill the story,” I said.

“We can contain it more by making it a non-story,” Norris said.

I flattened my palms on my desk, drawing a deep breath. There was only one way to do that. “It’s not a story if we acknowledge it.”

“Like hell it isn’t!” Georgia’s eyes flashed to Clara for support, but she was absorbed with her mobile.

“Scandal is like a dead body. The smell dissipates once you deal with it,” Norris explained. “It only lingers if you try to ignore it.”

Clara hadn’t chimed in on this charming analogy. Rather she was looking increasingly upset, her hand rubbing the baby absently as her thumb scrolled through her screen.

“This is unbelievable.” She slammed her phone onto the table in disgust.

“If only,” I muttered. “Then we wouldn’t have to worry about this at all.”

“This paper is reporting that we chose Anders for the Games because he blackmailed us,” she huffed, clearly offended on his behalf. “They’ve already forgotten that he was one of the most successful race car drivers we have. He was famous before we even approached him! If we’d left him out then they’d be saying we were trying to hide it.”

I didn’t point out to my wife that if she hadn’t asked him to participate in the Games, this likely would never have happened. I would have gone on keeping my father’s secret. No one would be any the wiser and Anderson Stone wouldn’t be in hiding somewhere in London. He wouldn’t even know and he wouldn’t be in love with my wife.

The trouble had started entirely with the Games, a fact I was not going to bring up.

“You’re quiet,” she accused when I didn’t respond to her rant.

“Trying to figure out what to do.” Standing, I crossed to her and took her phone. “The stories are going to drive you crazy.”

“Keep it.” She glared at the phone like it was a snake. “I’m tired of the lies.”

That was the trouble with lies built on truth, they wounded deeper than deceit itself. We were all reeling, because we’d each participated in this cover-up and we’d all be held up to scrutiny.

“We need to issue a press release,” I decided.

“Not another press conference,” Georgia grumbled.

“I think we’ve all had enough of those. A press release, but not until we find Anders.”

Norris and Georgia left to check the progress on finding Anders, leaving me with my wife. I knelt before her, resting my cheek on her lap.

“Remember when I proposed?” I asked softly.

“You offered me all of London.” I could hear the smile in her voice. It was reassuring that she still found that memory joyful.

“Have you changed your mind yet?”

“Not yet,” she promised, brushing my hair from my forehead. “We’ll deal with it.”

“How?”

“Like we always do. We’ll confront it and we’ll overcome it.”

“That will take forever,” I pointed out. We were still weathering the public outcry over Sarah. At least in her case, most people were more interested in watching her every move as she adapted to life after her coma. I could only hope Anders didn’t provide such colourful entertainment for those that would start watching him.