The Phoenix

by Jillian Dodd

“It’s a stunning mansion in the seventh arrondissement with a garden overlooking the Champ de Mars.”

  “Yeah, but can I see the Eiffel Tower?” I tease.

  “Panoramic views actually.”

  “Um, speaking of your properties, I have something I need to tell you.”

  “Does it have to do with the three people staying at my DC estate?”

  “Yes. Did they arrive safely?” I ask.

  “They did. Who are they?”

  “I don’t want to disappoint you, and I fear that you will be angry with me. I lied to you about one of my missions. Of course, I didn’t know it was you I was lying to when I lied. Like, if that helps any.”

  Ares sucks in his breath, his brilliant mind having already figured it out. “Are you telling me that man is The Priest?”

  “Yes. The boy is his son, Chauncey,” I confirm. “And the woman is the nanny.”

  “Why didn’t you kill him? He shot your mother in front of you!” Ares yells through the phone.

  “The scene was set exactly as I had imagined. I was prepared to seek my revenge. I had him down on his knees in his living room, and I told him who I was. He sincerely apologized, but I knew even before then, if I hadn’t already pulled the trigger, I wasn’t going to.

  “Then, things flipped on me. His scared young son was behind me with a gun in his hand. I would have died before I allowed his child to see what I had seen.”

  “They say revenge doesn’t change anything,” Ares says somberly.

  “It certainly wouldn’t have in this case. The Priest was a hired gun. If not him, someone else would have taken the hit. The end result would have been the same. Mom would have been dead.”

  “I can see your reasoning on that, but—”

  “We heard the sound of helicopters getting closer. The Priest asked me to take his son and keep him safe. After I told you that he was dead, I called Intrepid for help. He drove us to Zurich. Chauncey had a key to a safety deposit box there, just like I did. When we accessed our vaults, a team of mercenaries arrived. We managed to escape due to some safe passage deal Mom had bought. It was quite the adventure,” I say. “Intrepid smuggled us into London and got an MI5 agent set up as the boy’s nanny. Lorenzo allowed them to stay at his house there, and the boy started school. We weren’t sure if his father had survived the blast or not until we read of John Hillford’s death. Hillford had ordered the hit on Mom, double-crossed The Priest, and caused his wife’s death. The Priest killed Hillford in retribution for all of us.”

  “I see,” Ares says in a slightly irritated tone.

  “The Priest and I aren’t all that different, Dad,” I say. “We’ve killed people because we were told to.”

  “You just called me Dad,” Ares says softly.

  “Are you disappointed in me?” I ask, tears filling my eyes.

  “Quite the opposite, sweetheart. Your character impresses me more with each day I know you. I understand why you wouldn’t want his son to witness what you had.”

  “Thank you. Any news on the general?”

  “Not yet. Enjoy your dinner. And good night.”

  I eat my food, drink my champagne, and fall into bed, exhausted.

  MISSION:DAY FIVE

  I’m woken up at the crack of dawn by Ari.

  “We need to talk about my wedding,” he says, plopping down on my bed.

  “Do you really think now’s the—”

  “Absolutely. What better time, if we don’t have much time left?” he replies, shutting me up. “Can you please be excited for us?”

  “I am thrilled for you. It’s just that the Olympians arrive today. The opening ceremonies take place in less than seventy-two hours. It’s going to start, Ari, and I’m scared.”

  “You? Scared? Of what?”

  “That I won’t be able to stop it.”

  “I told you that we’d do it together.”

  “How are we going to do that when you’re off on your honeymoon?”

  “We will be honeymooning in Montrovia, here at the villa, until the Olympics are over. I’m not just going to abandon you and our mission. And, if Lorenzo, the king of Montrovia, can manage to come to the wedding, surely, you can. Allie said you still haven’t given her an answer as to if you’ll be her maid of honor. She’s freaking out a little. The wedding is tomorrow.”

  I pick up my phone and call Allie, feeling bad. I am excited for them. It’s just—no. He’s right. Who knows what this week might bring? Might as well live it up while we can.

  When Allie answers, I say, “I hear the wedding of the century is coming up soon, and your maid of honor has yet to RSVP.”

  She giggles, and I can picture her sitting there, blushing. “Oh my gosh! Do you really think it will be the wedding of the century? I mean, it might be. My agent heard about it and contacted Vogue. And guess what. They are coming to my wedding!”

  “Allie! That’s incredible.”

  “It will be more incredible if you are there,” she says seriously.

  “I wouldn’t miss it for anything. As a matter of fact,” I say, just realizing I have one maid-of-honor duty that I’ve totally failed on, “I’m flying there around lunch. You need a proper hen party.”

  “My friends and family are arriving today. We planned to just go to dinner, but that sounds like more fun,” she says. “Is Ari celebrating tonight?”

  I hit Mute on the phone. “You having a stag party?”

  “Yep,” he says with a grin. “Lorenzo said he’s taking care of everything.”

  I go back to Allie. “He is. Tonight.”

  “Oh, this is so exciting. I can’t believe we’re getting married tomorrow!”

  “Me either,” I say. “I’ll see you soon!”

  I hang up, realizing I now have to plan a party in a few hours and travel to—

  “Where is the wedding?” I ask Ari, realizing I don’t even know.

  “France. Saint-Jean-Cap-Ferrat. We have hotel suites booked, and the wedding will take place on the grounds of a historic villa.”

  “How did you get it all set up so fast?”

  “One of the perks of being the son of a billionaire, I guess,” Ari states. “Dr. Kate hooked us up with this celebrity wedding planner. I guess she’s done a lot of over-the-top events, and for an exorbitant amount, she was willing to plan our dream wedding. She’s been in France pretty much since we hired her, prepping everything.”

  “Do you have her number? Maybe she can help me with this hen party I’m supposed to throw today that I have yet to make a single arrangement for.”

  Ari chuckles. “Actually, Dr. Kate is expecting your call.”

  “You knew you’d talk me into it, huh?”

  “I hoped. Huntley, have you ever done anything spontaneous in your life?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “I never have until recently,” he says. “I was raised to follow rules. To set goals for my life and achieve them. The path of my life was planned in advance for me to reach maximum potential. The first spontaneous thing I did was jump on the motorcycle to rescue you. I know my injuries weren’t serious, but as I was crashing, for a brief moment, I thought I might die. And all I could think was that I’d have one regret—not telling Allie how I felt about her. As I did, the second spontaneous thing tumbled out of my mouth when I asked her to marry me. I didn’t even have a ring! But I do know that, if the world as we know it is going to end, I want to be by her side when it does.”

  “That’s really sweet,” I reply, shooing him out of my room and calling Dr. Kate.

  She answers with, “A hen party, huh? I have to say, this is not something I thought I would be planning as part of my job. But I’ve already been in contact with the hotel and the wedding planner.” She tells me the schedule for tonight.

  “That sounds like a really nice evening. Thank you for planning it, Kate.”

  “You’re welcome. I took the initiative to have the villa’s staff pack for you. Just get ready and get on the plane.”


  “Will you be there? At the wedding?”

  “Of course. It’s part of my mission,” she says before ending the call.

  Daniel barges in my room like he owns the place while I’m getting ready. “I’m heading over to the Olympic Village,” he says. “Today is check-in and our first on-site practices. Do you want to come help me get settled?”

  “Why don’t you sit down?” I reply instead. I need to inform him of a few things.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I know your plan. You and Lizzie are not allowed to hook up at the Olympic Village. People would talk like crazy if she were there.” He starts to say something, but I hold up my hand. “No arguments on this, Daniel,” I say, flashing the engagement ring he gave me in his direction. “You owe me. But, because I’m a nice person, I will arrange for you to meet Lizzie here in private. But only here. Nothing in public. If anyone asks where you are going, you can answer honestly. That you are going to visit me.”

  “There’s no need for that,” Daniel counters. “Lizzie is going to announce today that she’s ending their engagement.”

  I shake my head. “No, she’s not, Daniel.”

  “But she—”

  “You know things are complicated in Montrovia. You need to focus on winning, and she needs to continue the charade until the Olympics are over. We have it all worked out. She will leave the castle via a secret tunnel. Ellis will pick her up in a car with deeply tinted windows, and she will not get out of that car until she’s in the garage, and the door is shut. If you text her, please change her name in your phone to something people will think is me.”

  He gives me a defiant look. I imagine he was impossible to deal with as a child. Adorable and determined.

  “No. If she doesn’t announce it, then I will. I’m going to tell the world that I’m marrying her.”

  “You’ll look like a fool, Daniel. Especially when she denies it.”

  “She won’t do that,” he huffs.

  “Yes, she will. Maybe you should call her.”

  He marches off to his room.

  Five minutes later, he comes back in and dramatically throws himself across my bed. “You suck.”

  “I did what I had to do. For all of us.”

  His mouth pulls up into a smile, revealing both dimples. “Can I watch the video before you destroy it?” I playfully smack him upside the head as he grabs me and pulls me on the bed with him. “At least my plan worked.”

  “It was the dumbest plan ever, but you’re right. And I’m really glad you’re happy, Daniel. I feel bad for Lizzie. The queen has been pushing her really hard. Interviews, photo shoots—anything to up her social media status in the world.” I let out a laugh. “Ohmigosh. I forgot to tell you! At the Olympic Village, guess what I saw! Teacups with her face on them!”

  He laughs along with me, then rolls over and props his head up on a pile of pillows. “You know what this means now. You’re going to have to wear my lucky shirt every day.”

  “It would make my wardrobe planning easy, I guess. You should know, I’m wearing a red dress to the Royal Olympic Ball.”

  “My favorite color.” He lets out a sigh. “I suppose we’re going to have to dance with each other all night? Pretend to be in love still?”

  “I think that would be expected.”

  “Oh, maybe I should wear a fully sequined stars-and-stripes tuxedo. Maybe a matching top hat.”

  “If you do, we’re definitely not dancing together,” I joke.

  “I wish I were going to Ari’s wedding with you. I feel bad I can’t come, but it’s the freaking Olympics. Why couldn’t he wait a couple of weeks? Is Allie knocked up or something?”

  “I don’t think so. Besides, you’re the one who mentioned talk of a coup. Maybe we’re all in danger here in Montrovia.”

  “If something like that happens, all bets are off. I’m grabbing Lizzie, and we’re getting the heck out of here on Air Force One.”

  “Nice. Forget all about me,” I tease before turning serious. “Hopefully, Lorenzo can stop it. Or figure out if it’s even really a threat.”

  “Huntley, if my dad is worried, we should be worried, too.”

  “Yet you’re all still here.”

  “That’s because it’s the freaking Olympics!” he says again, this time with a laugh.

  “I know. And I promise to be back in time for the opening ceremonies.” I kiss his cheek, get off the bed, and then grin back at him. “And I won’t be wearing that ratty shirt.”

  As I’m getting in the car to go to the airport, my phone rings.

  “Your jet or mine?” Lorenzo asks.

  “I thought you were hosting the stag party tonight?”

  “I most definitely am, but with the wedding festivities tomorrow, it makes more sense for me to fly there than fly everyone here and back.”

  “Definitely mine then. Can we come pick you up, somewhere discreet? I don’t think the press needs to be aware of our travel plans.”

  “I have a few staff with me.”

  “Bring Juan. That’s all you’ll need.”

  “That means you must stay very close to me,” he says sexily. “I’ll need protection.”

  “You’re incorrigible. Meet me at the house down by the dock in ten minutes.”

  I let Ellis know to make a U-turn, and as he does, a store sign catches my attention.

  “Stop the car!” I yell out.

  Ellis screeches to a halt. I have to admit that I’m impressed by his quick reaction.

  “Why?” he asks.

  “I need to run in a store,” I say, hopping out of the car before he can question me further.

  I walk back half a block, coming to stand in front of the store called Punk Rocker. I close my eyes, taking a deep breath and trying to remember.

  When nothing comes, I open my eyes and go inside, where I’m immediately greeted by an older woman with purple hair, a nose ring, and numerous beautifully colored tattoos.

  “Whatcha need, honey?” she says, smacking her gum as she speaks.

  “Do you have any Cure T-shirts?” I ask.

  She narrows her eyes and studies me. “You a punk rock girl under your ritzy exterior?”

  “My father loves their music,” I say with a shrug.

  “Well, cheers to him.” She doesn’t move from her spot, just points to the middle of the store.

  I make my way to it, passing a lot of black clothing—studded jackets, leather jeans, graphic and band T-shirts, and a full collection of accessories. My attention is quickly distracted by a cute metal-spiked bracelet set on a thick leather band. I pick it up and try it on. While I’m deciding if I should buy it, a memory comes rushing back.

  I was trying on a bracelet with glittering rhinestones. My mom was holding a T-shirt in her hand.

  “I’ve never heard of The Cure,” I told her.

  “My best guy friend in high school loved this band,” she replied, a smile lighting up her face.

  “Why did he like them?”

  “’Cause it’s The Cure,” she muttered. “Something no one should want.”

  “Like, in our lives?” I asked, not understanding if she was talking about the band or something else.

  “In all our lives,” she replied. “That is why I need to meet with someone this afternoon without you. I’ll find a place close by where you can keep an eye on me though.”

  “Okay,” I said. “Are you buying the shirt?”

  “Yes.” She smiled. “I definitely am.”

  “That’s a badass bracelet, isn’t it?” the saleswoman says, approaching me. “And the spikes match the ones on the designer heels you’re wearing.”

  “They do. I think I definitely need it.”

  She takes the bracelet from my hand and leads me to the cashier’s desk. “You’re that girl who was dating the prince, right? The one who inherited a bunch of money and has that hot brother?”

  “Yes, I’m Huntley Von Allister.” I hold my hand out to shake h
ers. “It’s nice to meet you. You have a bit of a British accent. Have you been here long?”

  “Born and raised in Wales. Followed a man—well, a band—to Montrovia and loved it so much that I decided to stay. Worked as a waitress for nearly twenty years. Went to the casino seven years ago on my fortieth birthday and hit the jackpot on a slot machine. Won twenty-seven million dollars, bought a house, and opened this store.”

  “That’s amazing. I remember coming here with my mother about six years ago. You must have been newly opened.”

  “I was. So, did you buy anything when you were here?”

  “My mom bought a band T-shirt. The Cure. She passed away not long after that, so when I was driving by and recognized the store, I just had to stop.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss,” she says. “And, for the record, I think Lorenzo should be marrying you. He doesn’t look at her the way he looked at you. What’s the real story on all that?”

  “What happened with you and the guy in the band?”

  She nods in understanding and grins. “Young love doesn’t always work out, right? The real world interferes.”

  “It sure does,” I agree.

  I pay for the bracelet and wear it out of the store, her comment about the real world on my mind. I’m suddenly feeling thankful to be leaving Montrovia. At least, when Lorenzo is with me, I know I can keep him safe. Once the Olympics starts, all bets are off, so I might as well enjoy every minute of whatever time we might have left.

  I hop in the car, and Ellis drives down to the docks to pick up our passengers.

  When Lorenzo gets in, he greets me with a delicious kiss on the lips, and I’m very thankful the windows are tinted.

  “Your brother will meet us at the airport shortly,” he says. “I have yet to tell him of our plans for today other than that.”

  “And what are the details?” I ask.

  Juan gives me a smirk. “A night filled with debauchery, of course.”

  “Of course,” I sigh, my raised spirits quickly diminished as I imagine Lorenzo partying with other women. I scoot away from him, pretending to make more room for Juan.