Bad Boy Prince: A Modern Fairy Tale (Twisted Royals Book 3)

by Sidney Bristol

  “Where’s the beep come from?” Jaxon glanced around.

  “Anyone who goes in there has one of these.” Keith produced a small, plastic disc, the size of a quarter. “It sets off the sensor and you open the door.”

  “Oh...kay.”

  “Look, you’ve got questions you don’t want answers to.” Keith stared Jaxon in the eye. “Trust me, you do not want to know.”

  “I don’t want to know.” Jaxon shrugged. He’d have to do some investigating of his own to make sure that when he went through that door, no one was watching.

  “Good. If you keep that in mind, you’ll go far here. Christ knows some people could use that lesson.” Keith shook his head.

  “Are things always this short staffed?”

  “No, man. Shit has gotten real around this place. Used to be, it was the chillest job ever. These days? Fuck.” Keith glanced at the stairs, then the elevator. “Keep your head down, do your job, and anyone who talks about pulling one over? Stay away from them. Some shit is about to hit the fan.”

  Jaxon nodded.

  “Good. I’m gone. You need anything, radio downstairs and they’ll bring it to you. When that guy leaves, if you need to piss, there’s a bathroom in the boss’ office you can use, but don’t make yourself comfortable in there. Got it?”

  “I sure do. What about the boss?”

  “He took his elevator down. No one uses that but him, got it?”

  “Sure.” The blueprints hadn’t shown an elevator. Interesting.

  “Any other questions?”

  “No.”

  “Cool. Later, man.” Keith waved and headed down the stairs.

  Jaxon turned in a circle, surveying his new domain, before he came back to the door.

  Queen’s Nest was painted above it on a gold banner. Shelby had talked once about the place she’d been kept, the automatic doors and all the reinforcements. It stood to reckon that Yuri had implemented the same design here.

  If Zach was right, Freya was behind that door.

  It took every ounce of Jaxon’s restraint not to burst in there. What if he was wrong? What if doing so would set off alarms?

  He had to play this safe, for Freya.

  Jaxon circled the desk and sat down in the leather chair. He glanced across the monitors, spying nothing unusual. Given the kind of clientele that the Swan Palace drew, he doubted trouble would be an often occurrence.

  He turned his attention to the buttons marked “Queen’s Nest.”

  There was the door button, a lock button, a hold button and a reset button. He could hope their uses were as straightforward as they appeared to be.

  When the guy, whoever he was, came out, Jaxon would test out the buttons and see what they did and who, exactly was behind that door.

  Freya sidestepped, keeping the sofa between herself and Charles.

  He was going to ask.

  He’d asked the two previous nights.

  He’d do it again.

  This time she had to say yes. For Michelle.

  Part of Freya rebelled at the idea. She’d been cleaning up Michelle’s messes ever since high school. They might be twins, but they weren’t the same person. Still, Michelle was Freya’s sister. She was all that Freya had left in this world and she knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that Michelle would not survive Charles.

  “You look frightened, pet.” The man smiled. It wasn’t an endearing or disarming gesture. He stopped, seemingly content to stare at her.

  Freya’s throat closed up and everything in her said to run. To flee. This man was dangerous to her. It wasn’t just her imagination, either. Yuri had confirmed it. This man would break her, or kill her—if she couldn’t get away.

  There was no way out of this suite. She’d tried everything she could think of.

  But that would only put Michelle at risk of taking Freya’s spot.

  Which meant Freya needed to say yes. She needed to agree to marry this man to free her sister and then, if she was lucky, she could escape, or die trying. She would never become this man’s willing prisoner.

  Charles crossed to the bar.

  Freya made herself stand her ground when what she really wanted to do was run from the room screaming.

  She pivoted to watch him pour some of the liquor into a crystal glass.

  She’d considered guzzling the stuff herself, but that would only numb the panic for a moment and leave her vulnerable.

  Charles sipped his drink and turned once more to watch her.

  Freya wanted this over with. The anticipation, knowing that it was coming, it wore on her.

  “Was there something you wanted to ask me?” Freya pushed her shoulders back. She could do this.

  Charles took a step toward her.

  Freya flinched.

  He came closer still.

  She dug her heels in, balled her hands into fists, and stared right back into his cold, dead eyes.

  Charles lifted his hand and cupped her cheek, swiping his thumb back and forth.

  Freya’s stomach churned. She could taste bile on the back of her throat.

  “Not tonight, my pet.” He tapped her nose with his index finger before downing the rest of his glass.

  “What?” Freya watched him place the glass on the side table, then amble toward the door. “What the hell is this?”

  Charles paused a couple feet from the door and turned to glance at her.

  “I like seeing you like this, all worked up. It...gets me excited about our future. Tomorrow night, my pet.” Charles flicked his fingers and took another step.

  He was exactly three feet from the door when it beeped.

  She scanned the walls, the ceiling, the floor. There was something she wasn’t seeing that gained both Charles and Yuri entrance. What was it?

  No, stop that.

  Michelle.

  She had to think of Michelle.

  Freya pressed her hands over her eyes and counted to ten.

  She’d beaten depression. She’d survived the death of her mother. She’d damn well would have rocked her PhD. She could do this. She could. She just had to keep telling herself that.

  Freya paced to the windows, hugging her arms around herself.

  Did anyone even miss her? She’d been gone a month. No, more than that. Had her roommate found someone else? Would Jaxon even notice she’d missed their date? Did Michelle even know Freya was missing? What about Dad? She knew he wouldn’t do anything, that he likely didn’t even care, but had she at least rated a security briefing?

  There was likely no one who would miss her.

  She had to give Yuri props for that. He’d picked someone who could disappear without a single person giving a damn. Not even her twin. If their roles were reversed, Freya knew Michelle wouldn’t do the same for her. Freya could stop caring no more than she could stop trying to figure out a way to escape.

  The door beeped and whisked open again.

  Yuri, come to gloat again?

  “Freya?”

  That voice...

  It was deeper, richer than Yuri’s. Familiar. The sound of it sent warmth curling through her body. It was what had drawn her to him in the first place, how he spoke to people. That welcoming blanket of protection that seemed to extend around him.

  She turned, gaping at the man standing in the open doorway.

  He looked different. His hair was a little longer, and instead of the jeans and black T-shirt, he wore slacks, a sport coat, a white button down and dress shoes. What the hell?

  “Jax?”

  He glanced over his shoulder then crossed her room, his expression grim.

  Was this how Yuri found her? Was Jaxon part of it?

  She took a step back.

  “No, stay away from me.” She stumbled over her own feet.

  Gravity tipped her sideways.

  Warm, strong hands grasped her by the arm and around the waist. Jaxon hauled her upright, those green-gold eyes of him staring down at her.

  “What’s wrong? Did h
e hurt you?” Jaxon’s face twisted into a hard mask.

  “He? What about you?” She pushed at his chest.

  “Me?” Jaxon let go of her and took several steps back.

  “Is that what you do? Find girls for him?” Freya’s insides withered and died a bit more. She’d finally been excited about something, about getting to know Jaxon, and all along, he was playing her.

  “Freya, I don’t know what you think I’ve done, but I’m here to get you out of here. Now.” He gestured at the door. “I’ll take you wherever you want to go.”

  “What?”

  Had she understood him right?

  She could be free? Walk out of here with Jaxon?

  Jaxon licked his lips and glanced back at the door.

  “Look, can we sort this all out later?” he asked.

  “No.” Freya took another step back. What about Michelle?

  “I’m not going to hurt you, Freya, but I don’t know if I’ll get another chance to break you out of here.”

  Wait.

  Break her out?

  Jaxon had always struck her as one of the good ones. People liked him. Girls at the club trusted him without a second guess. Which would make him the perfect lure. But that wasn’t the Jaxon she’d come to know.

  Was he telling her the truth?

  “You’re serious? You didn’t find me for Yuri?”

  “It’s a long—fuck.” He growled, a frustrated noise in the back of his throat. “Yuri was hired by a guy to kidnap my friend’s girl. The one he set up that fake club thing for?”

  “Sharon?” Freya gaped at him.

  “Shelby, actually. I don’t know how Yuri picked you or knew who you were. Hell, I didn’t even know, until the cops started talking about bringing in the Secret Service. Come on, Freya—”

  “I can’t go.” She took another step back, even though it fractured her heart. Jaxon, of all people, had come for her. She barely knew him, and he was the one riding in here like some sort of knight. Or maybe he was fooling her. Yuri and Charles seemed dead set on breaking her.

  “Yes, you can—”

  “No. I have no idea if you’re telling me the truth or if this is another of Yuri’s sick games.”

  “Freya, I wouldn’t lie to you.”

  “I don’t know that.”

  “Yes, you do.” Jaxon took a step toward her, his green-gold eyes more gold than green. “You know me. If I were the kind of guy who’d set you up, would I have gotten fired like I did?

  Freya swallowed.

  No, the Jaxon she’d come to know, to care about, he wasn’t that kind of guy.

  He was good.

  “Yuri has my sister,” she whispered. The pain of those words broke her a little. Tears pricked her eyes and she wrapped her arms around herself.

  “Your—what?” Jaxon’s eyes widened into a look of horror. He didn’t know. He really was there to save her.

  “My sister.”

  Jaxon crossed to her, and this time she didn’t move. He wrapped his arms around her, surrounding her with his strength. She’d been alone for so long, the comfort of his arms felt foreign. At least until she smelled his cologne. It brought back memories of late nights, talking until the sun colored the horizon, and hope.

  “Michelle,” Freya whispered. “He has her, and if I leave, he’ll bring her here. I can’t let that happen to her. Michelle wouldn’t survive this.”

  Freya closed her eyes and buried her face against Jaxon’s chest. How was she going to survive it?

  Ten months ago...

  Freya stepped out of her heels, flexing her toes, and nearly groaned in bliss. Tonight only proved her theory: good heels were worth a fortune. These cute—but cheap—shoes had nearly crippled her. She’d picked a poor night to try something new.

  “You look like I do after PT.”

  She straightened and glanced over her shoulder. The security light bathed Jaxon’s smiling face in a warm glow.

  Every time she saw him, a part of her remembered that life wasn’t over.

  “Do they massage your feet at PT?” She dropped her flip-flops on the concrete and stepped into them.

  “No.” Jaxon bent and snagged her heels off the ground. He gestured toward her car and offered his elbow. Such a gentleman. “You seem stressed. Something happen tonight?”

  “Yes.” She braced herself for contact and slipped her arm through his. Warmth unfurled in her stomach, and she leaned against him. Not because she needed the support, but because, for these few moments, she was something resembling human.

  “Anything I can help with?” he asked.

  “Not really. Sandy’s boyfriend dumped her. She spent most of the night crying and doing shots.”

  Freya rolled her eyes. “I get that she’s upset, but this is her only job. She has to suck it up and work. The rest of us can’t pick up the slack for her.”

  “She’s a kid,” Jaxon said.

  “A kid who is learning a difficult lesson about life.”

  “She was in love with that douche bag.”

  Freya rolled her eyes.

  “Love makes you do some crazy things. You know how it is.”

  They reached Freya’s car and she pulled her arm from his. She turned to face him, his words rubbing her raw.

  “No, I don’t know.” She stared at his chest.

  “You’ve never been in love?” he asked.

  “I don’t believe in love.”

  “What? Are you serious?”

  “Yes. The whole concept of marrying for love is a recent phenomenon. A hundred years ago people were picking partners based on who could care for a future family the best, who would bring something to the table. These days, people use love as a bad excuse for their poor choices. Look at Sandy. She’s twenty-one years old, she’s pretty, but she’s uneducated and has next to no money. Judging from her clothes, she’s probably rung up a good deal of debt to impress her douche bag of an ex. And for what?” Freya wanted to slap her hand over her mouth.

  These were not the things she should say to a person. Not someone who didn’t know her. And especially not the nice guy who made her feel normal every now and then. But there it was.

  Freya didn’t believe in love.

  And now he knew.

  She drew herself up to her full height and stared him in the eyes.

  “You’ve never loved anyone? Family? A friend? A guy?” His questions were straightforward, no judgment tingeing his words.

  Freya rolled those questions around in her mind.

  She’d loved her mother. That went without question. But the rest of her family?

  “No, I don’t think so,” Freya said softly. “I believe two people can have a meaningful connection, but love? No.”

  Jaxon stared at her, his head tilted to one side and his gaze a little funny. She’d probably just destroyed any and all chances she’d ever had with him, but she had to be truthful. To herself and him.

  “Here’s the problem in your assessment.” He leaned his forearm against her car. “You say that you’ve never felt love. You haven’t experienced it. Right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Have you, I don’t know, tried?”

  “In college, they used to joke about how much I dated. That I went through guys like most people change their socks.” Freya shrugged and crossed her arms over her chest.

  “How long did you date them? A few weeks? A semester?”

  “Usually just one to three dates.”

  “Let me ask you another question. Do you believe in gravity?”

  “Of course.”

  “Why?”

  “Because...it’s there.”

  “You’ve experienced it.” The corners of his mouth turned up.

  “Yeah, I’m pretty sure we all have.”

  “But you can’t see gravity. You can’t touch it.”

  “Jaxon...”

  “The wind.” He snapped his fingers. “You believe in that?”

  Freya stared at him.


  “You can’t see the wind, you can’t hold it, but there are times when it blows soft, then it blows hard. That’s...”

  “Are you trying to say that love is like the wind? We all love differently?” She nearly groaned.

  “Maybe. Sounds good to me.” He shrugged.

  “That’s a really good analogy, and I’m willing to accept that, maybe it’s me. Maybe I’m the broken one. Perhaps I just can’t feel love.”

  “Or maybe you haven’t met the right person yet. Haven’t given them enough time. Three dates isn’t a lot of time to fall in love.” Jaxon rocked forward, his shadow eclipsing her.

  “We’ll have to agree to disagree, then.” Freya smiled, and it wasn’t forced. “I live for the day someone proves you wrong.” Jaxon returned the smile, his eyes lighting up.

  The old, familiar desire flared up. But he couldn’t change who she was.

  Freya Thorburn did not feel love. Not anymore.

  4.

  Present day...

  Jaxon stared at Freya. He wanted to keep holding her, to toss her over his shoulder and carry her out of here, to fix this, to do something.

  In the beginning, all he’d wanted to do was confirm that she was here. Get her out if he could, and if he couldn’t, call in the cops. The FBI. Someone with authority. But if he did that, what would happen to Michelle? He hadn’t even known Freya had a sister until he and Zach started digging, and they’d never considered her an important part to the investigation.

  Jaxon needed to talk to someone. Probably Shelby. She would have the most information about Yuri, given the time she’d spent with the FBI as an undercover asset. She’d known who Yuri Gabor was almost on sight. She had to know more.

  That meant leaving Freya here. The one thing he did not want to do.

  “Freya?” Jaxon bumped her chin, urging her to look at him.

  “Hey, I’m going to get you out of this. You and Michelle, okay?”

  Jaxon didn’t know how he’d do it, but he’d figure it out. If he wasn’t just focused on an exit strategy, there were other things to consider. Were there cameras? Check-ins? Other security measures that would give away what he planned to do?