Twins for the Mafia Heir (The Warwicks #3)

29. Achilles

Chapter 29

Achilles

F antasia has accused me a thousand times over the past year of letting Piers Warwick escape the coup that would’ve taken his life, but I doubt even she knows just how right she was.

I’ve made my whole life, since the day my little sister was born, about keeping her safe and happy. And while helping her overthrow the London Warwicks and claim her stolen birthright from her father served that purpose… killing my best friend in cold blood did not.

Piers is shocked to see me, but steps quickly aside for Raleigh and me to bring a sleeping Sidony inside the house. He keeps his voice low, but I get the feeling he’d be yelling if he could.

“Achilles- what the hell are you doing here?! Who’s this-”

“Fantasia turned on me,” I say- and hearing those words spoken out loud makes the betrayal hit all over again. I collect myself enough to assure, “No one followed us.”

Piers opens his mouth, then runs a hard hand through his red hair and lets it fall slowly closed. I sense he’s holding back something snide. Or, worse, a searching question about Fantasia herself.

“What happened?” he chokes out at last.

I can’t answer that yet. I won’t do it in front of Raleigh, because something tells me if I do she’ll blame herself for all of this. But more than that, I can’t face it myself. Not after all the years I sacrificed for Fantasia and how much of my heart she held in her hand without even caring.

“Tomorrow,” I tell Piers, then glance at the clock. It’s nearly four a.m. “Tomorrow afternoon, maybe. We’re taking the den. How’s your mum?”

Piers shakes his head. “Dying. Probably any day now, though she acts like she isn’t,” he says ruefully.

I’m too tired to offer more elegant condolences than, “I’m sorry, Piers.” I put a hand on Raleigh’s shoulder, meaning to lead her out of the room, then remember myself. “Oh, Piers. This is Raleigh. My- wife.”

Piers’s mouth falls open again, and I move on swiftly enough that he can’t ask me anything upsetting. “Raleigh, this is Piers Warwick- the true heir of the Warwick family.”

Raleigh, Sidony, and I sleep past noon in a crumpled pile on a fold-out bed with no sheets, coverlet, or pillows- and it might just be the best rest I’ve had all year.

By two p.m., I drag myself creaking out of bed, feeling vaguely ill and dizzy. I’d kill several men for a single shot of espresso at this moment. Sidony is gone, but I can hear her bright voice from the kitchen, so my panic lasts only a second. Raleigh’s still dead asleep, sprawled over the middle of the mattress with her skirt hiked all the way up her pale legs.

I’d be happy to let her sleep on, but she probably needs coffee and food as much as I do. I sit back down on the edge of the mattress, leaning over to brush sticky hair off her forehead.

She jerks awake, almost tumbling off the mattress before I catch her by the upper arms. Her breath is racing, her eyes wide with fear, her skin clammy. I can see that it takes her a few blinks to remember where she is. And when she sees me, her whole body immediately relaxes.

“We made it,” she sighs.

I move more sweaty hair off her forehead and tuck it behind her ear. “We did,” I say softly. “At four a.m.. I thought you were awake when we walked in, but clearly not.”

Raleigh shakes her head, then pauses. “Wait, I think I remember… Did you… introduce me to someone last night?” I nod, and the memory sparks in her eyes. “Piers,” she says wonderingly. “You really did let him escape.”

I smile wryly. “I did. He was my friend. I couldn’t betray him, even if Fantasia wanted me to.”

Raleigh smiles up at me, the softest, must unguarded expression she’s ever shown me. I’m stunned by the tenderness of it.

If I can, I want to make her smile like this every day.

“You’re a good man, Achilles,” she says simply. “I feel like you don’t take nearly enough credit for that, but you are.”

I… can’t imagine what’s inspired her to say that. I was only protecting someone I saw as my family, a thing I’ve always done. To be praised for that seems unnecessary.

Just the same, I can’t deny the way my chest clenches at her words. “Thank you, Raleigh,” I manage.

I can’t stop touching her hair, or her arms, or her face. We all made it here, and Raleigh was an integral part of that. I’m dying to kiss her until she’s fully awake- and maybe move on to even better things- but there are people waiting for explanations outside the door to our room, and we should both be eating something by now. I brush my knuckles against her unbruised cheek one last time, and Raleigh leans into that touch.

The warmth and softness of her skin almost destroys my resolve.

“Let’s go get some breakfast,” I say, more for my sake than hers. “Well, lunch at this point.”

Raleigh flushes, maybe reading that lunch isn’t really what I’m hungry for right now. But she nods and rolls off the mattress. I follow her out of the den, and am immediately enveloped by the smell of pancakes and bacon.

In the living room directly in front of us, an aging woman sleeps in an armchair in front of a TV. A Scottish weatherman trades jokes with his fellow reporters on the likelihood of snow before Christmas. To our right, Piers is at the stove dolling out pancakes onto plates, while Sidony sits at his feet playing with- to my horror- what looks like an enormous raccoon .

“SIDONY,” I bark, startling everyone in the house- except the old woman who doesn’t even stir. “Get away from that-”

The mangy creature dashes away, and I realize it’s actually an obese cat in desperate need of a trim. I let out a sigh of relief, and immediately pull Sidony into my arms when she comes running.

“I’m very sorry, dove,” I tell her, giving her her three forehead kisses. “I thought your uncle Piers had brought another diseased monster into the house.”

“Have a heart, Achilles,” Piers protests. “That badger I took into Wesley Hall was tame as a kitten. It even let me feed it my veal.”

“It would’ve fed on you next if I didn’t throw it out,” I say stiffly. I want to remind him he’d only brought it into the house to impress a ten year old Fantasia, but the reminder of my sister sours my mood instantly. Perhaps it does for Piers as well, because he quickly changes the subject and turns to Raleigh.

“Raleigh, was it? You were pretty tired last night so I wouldn’t blame you if you don’t remember, but I’m Piers.”

“Piers Warwick,” Raleigh says pointedly, holding out her hand for him to shake. “It’d be hard to forget you.”

He flashes his crooked grin. “And you, Raleigh Ashwood .” He looks between the two of us, red eyebrows rising. “How and when did that happen?”

The sound of my last name attached to Raleigh’s makes me suddenly, viciously regretful that I didn’t keep her in the den for several minutes longer. It also reminds me of the small package still tucked into a pocket of my suit jacket.

How have I avoided hearing Raleigh’s married name up until this point?

Because everyone at Wesley Hall knew our marriage was a sham, and no one at Ashwood House had any idea who Raleigh was. I never got a chance to claim her there, not in an overt, nonsexual way.

The loss of that opportunity is just another thing to blame Fantasia for.

Raleigh is flushed enough that I know she’s mulling over her married name too. Does she like the sound of it as much as I do?

No, I realize, she’s probably just debating what to tell Piers about our marriage.

“No need to come up with a story,” I tell her. “Piers here has been my closest friend for several years, and… he’s seen the worst of everything.” I meet his eyes. His cheeky smile fades.

“That’s true enough, I guess,” he says. “So? What’s the not-a-story?”

I’m mindful of Sidony leaning her head on my shoulder. “Why don’t you eat some pancakes, little princess?” I tell her, and set her down. To my bemusement, she runs off in search of the cat instead. I sigh. “It was a political alliance,” I tell Piers. “Raleigh is a member of the Warwick clan from after the schism Marcus had with his brother. Fantasia wanted their branch to start paying tithes to her, and Thomas Sr.’s son was… less than enthusiastic.”

Piers raises his eyebrows at Raleigh, then frowns at me. “Political alliance,” he repeats with distaste.

“It was not my first choice,” I say. Why does that make me uncomfortable to admit now? I glance at Raleigh, who shifts awkwardly on her feet.

The last time I clearly outlined my expectations for our relationship, I told her I wanted nothing from her, and we’d be lucky to even become friends. I meant to sound cruel when I said them. I meant to push her away. Now my own words alienate me. I haven’t even known her a month, and already I can’t imagine keeping Raleigh at arm’s length. She’s too powerful, too mysterious, too neatly entwined in the emotional web of my life.

And she doesn’t know that, because I’ve yet to bother to tell her.

“Can I ask what your story is?” Raleigh says to Piers. “I only know who you are, not how you got here.”

Piers flashes a charming smile. "Well, it all began when Samantha and Charles Warwick browsed the orphan store and handpicked their favorite," he says, and I roll my eyes.

Once Piers starts telling a story, he can't resist embellishing every detail, building it up until you're hanging on his every word. He could be talking about a quick trip to the grocery store, and he’d spin it into an epic showdown with a woman who tried to cut him in line.

Raleigh’s eyes go to the older woman in the living room, still snoring away in front of the TV. “Is… that Samantha Warwick?”

Piers’s smile softens and saddens. “Yeah, that’s mum.” I remember his words from last night, how her condition is already so much worse from a year ago. “We won’t wake her, don’t worry.” To my surprise, he drops the dramatic intonation of his story. “She and da took me in when I was just about to age out of the system. I’d have been on the streets without a pound to my name. Then all of a sudden I’m in this big old house with clothes and food and my own room? Oh, and this bastard, I guess,” he says, smiling wryly at me.

I was twenty-two when Piers came to live in Wesley Hall, and, at the time, desperate to get out. I was sick of feeling torn between my grandfather’s plans for me and the deference Marcus Warwick demanded I show him. I also wanted to get Fantasia away from our mum, who was pouring more vitriol into her daughter’s ear by the day. The problem was, I hadn’t come into my inheritance yet, and was essentially living off the charity of my elders. I couldn’t carry off a nine-year-old into a life of total uncertainty like that.

Then Piers arrived, and it felt like I finally had someone I could rely on and share some of my worries with. He was seventeen, but wise far beyond his years, sardonic and seemingly untouchable. He mocked me openly and endlessly for all the privilege I took for granted, but in the end, we adored each other, and he adored Fantasia too.

“Yeah, life was real good,” Piers says. “Then old man Marcus decided to make me his heir, and… well, we saw how well that worked out for him and me. Luckily, Achilles was a pal and decided not only to not kill me, but to help hide me and mum. We’ve been living it up in Edinburgh since last year.”

Raleigh’s mouth is a thin line. I can tell she’s mulling over everything he isn’t saying, and what his true feelings must’ve been when he was faced with such a betrayal. Still, she doesn’t try to push further, and I’m sure Piers is grateful for that.

“So… what now?” she asks instead. Her gaze goes from Piers to me. “Are we all just going to… ‘live it up’ in Edinburgh now?”

“I’m not,” I say, drawing both their alarmed looks. “I need to go back to London. Fantasia… well, I need to speak with Fantasia.”

To be entirely honest, I don’t have a plan for how to deal with her yet. I still can’t look her betrayal full in the face, not without seeing the child she once was, the one that trusted me wholeheartedly. But I’ll have the flight back to think on what I’ll say-

“You can’t!” Raleigh bursts out, pulling me from my thoughts. I expect her to tell me it’s too dangerous, or that Fantasia will never listen to reason. Instead, she hits me with logic far more damning. “Christmas is in a couple days, isn’t it? After everything that’s happened, you should be with Sidony for it.”

Fuck, is it really almost Christmas? I check my watch, and sure enough, a tiny twenty-three stares back. My stomach sours. All of Sidony’s presents are still at Wesley Hall. Or, if any of our belongings were ever delivered to Ashwood House, they’re sitting there unclaimed. Fuck, again.

“I… suppose it can wait,” I say reluctantly. After all, Fantasia isn’t going anywhere. And Raleigh is correct, Sidony will be crushed if she has to go through Christmas without me. But she’ll also be disappointed when she wakes up the morning of and has no presents to open.

I glance over at Piers, then with a faint sigh ask, “Piers, you mind keeping an eye on Sidony for a bit?”

Piers looks up from his pancake prep, his brow furrowing as he considers it. “Aye, no bother. She’ll be right as rain with me.” He adds with a wry smile, “I’ll make sure she’s not adopting any more stray creatures, at least.”

I give a small nod of approval, then look down at Raleigh.

“Care to come Christmas shopping with me?”