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Beside her, Nadia saw that Agnes’s hands were clasped together tightly, and her face had lost a little color. If she had to walk up to the front row on her own, every eye would be on her, and she would be painfully aware of it. Worse, she obviously had never learned the cherished Executive skill of hiding her feelings, and she was already wearing her misery on her face.

“Let’s go look for Nate, shall we?” Nadia asked, hooking her arm through Agnes’s and urging her away from the tent, into the building.

“B-but the service is about to start.”

Nadia noticed that the glossy silk of Agnes’s black dress did not hide sweat stains. It certainly wasn’t warm enough out for Agnes to be overheated, so the perspiration must have come from nerves. Nadia marched steadily forward, and because her arm was hooked with Agnes’s, Agnes had to follow.

“The service won’t start until Nate is there. So let’s go dig him out of hiding instead of keeping all those people waiting.”

Nadia unhooked her arm from Agnes’s only enough so she could open the door and give the girl a gentle nudge in the back to move her through. Just in time, too, because she saw that almost everyone was already seated, and a couple of people had turned to look in their direction. Nadia thought Agnes might have had a nervous breakdown if more people turned to look.

By the time Nadia closed the door and they were safe within the gloomy interior of the retreat, Agnes looked like she was near tears, and Nadia wanted to find Nate so she could take him by the scruff of the neck and shake him. He was a nice guy, the kind of guy who should feel naturally protective of a fragile soul like Agnes. For him to just leave her hanging like this was appalling.

“It’ll be all right, Agnes,” Nadia said softly. She wanted to give the other girl a hug, but Agnes’s body language did not invite it. “We’ll find Nate, and then we can all go take our seats so the service can begin.”

Agnes blinked away tears, her eyes wild and desperate-looking. “It’s going to get worse when we’re married, isn’t it? People will be watching my every move, and Nathaniel will hate me even more, and—”

To hell with Agnes’s body language, Nadia thought as she put her arms around the girl and hugged her tightly. Agnes momentarily stiffened in shock, but it seemed she was so desperate for a show of kindness that she couldn’t help giving in to it.

“Nate doesn’t hate you,” Nadia assured her, sidestepping the issue about which she could offer no words of comfort. “He’s furious with his father, and he’s been taking it out on you because he can’t take it out on him.”

Agnes squirmed out of the hug, and Nadia reluctantly released her, wishing she could offer more than words.

“I’ve known him since I was four,” Nadia continued. “He’s being a world-class jerk right now, but that’s not what he’s really like.”

“And what am I really like?”

Agnes squealed in alarm, and though Nadia managed to keep quiet, she jumped just as high.

Standing in a doorway behind them, his tie loosened, his collar unbuttoned, and an open bottle of something amber-colored in his hand, was Nate. And the expression on his face was about as bleak and forbidding as anything Nadia had ever seen.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Nate lifted the bottle of booze to his lips and took a gulp. It was probably something obscenely expensive, meant to be sipped in minute quantities—he hadn’t even bothered to read the label when he’d grabbed it—but all he cared about was that there was alcohol in it. Nadia and Agnes were both looking at him like he’d grown a third arm, which meant he was well on his way to creating the drunken slob look he was aiming for. Though he’d have to work a little harder on the “drunken” part, because he’d only had a couple of swallows so far. He raised the bottle again, and Nadia skewered him with a glare.

“Don’t you dare!” she commanded, striding forward and snatching the bottle out of his hand so quickly he didn’t even think to resist.

Agnes’s eyes looked like they were going to pop out of her head, and Nate would have laughed if Nadia hadn’t gotten up in his face. She held the bottle out to Agnes without taking her eyes off him. It was whiskey, Nate noted absently, though he didn’t recognize the brand name. Agnes bit her lip and approached like she was crossing a minefield, but she took the bottle from Nadia and then hastily backed up a couple of steps.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Nadia asked as she reached for his throat. Actually, she was reaching for the buttons on his collar, but it felt rather like a stranglehold. “Agnes and I have been looking all over for you. The service is about to begin.” She gave the collar a harder tug than necessary for buttoning purposes.

“I’m not going,” he said, twisting away from her hands. “Now give me back the bottle and leave me in peace.”

He was good at hiding his feelings in public, had had to do it for as long as he could remember. But there was no way he could put his public face on right now. Not after the bombshell his father had just dropped on him. Not after looking into Dorothy’s smirking face and seeing his future laid out plain and clear. Whether she was the Chairman’s daughter or not—and Nate refused to admit she was—she would be accepted by the public as such because the Chairman said so. Hell, the people of Paxco would probably throw a big party when his father disinherited him in favor of Dorothy. The original Nate Hayes had been popular, a true media darling. His Replica, not so much.

“What is wrong with you?” Nadia asked, reaching for his collar again. “You can’t cause a scene at your own mother’s funeral. I don’t care what issues you had with her.”

Nate caught her wrists and held her off. “This has nothing to do with her.”

What had happened to his life? Only a couple precious weeks ago, he’d been engaged to his best friend. He’d had a live-in—albeit secret—boyfriend whom he loved. And he had been one hundred percent secure in the knowledge that he would one day be the Chairman of Paxco.

Yes, he’d been a crappy heir. He’d avoided work like the plague and made it clear to everyone that he had little interest in learning how to play his future role. He’d neglected paperwork, dozed off in meetings, been rude to people he should have been diplomatic with. But he was eighteen years old, for Christ’s sake. He had decades before he expected to become Chairman, and he’d known there would be plenty of time to learn everything he needed to know. And even if they’d been a bit vague and amorphous, he’d had plans for his state. Plans to make it a better place. Plans to improve the quality of life among Basement-dwellers, like Kurt. Plans to give them more opportunities to join mainstream society, while putting protections in place for those who couldn’t. Plans to winnow out those in the government—and especially in the security department—who abused their power.

He would be a difference-maker. Someday in the future, when he was ready to settle down and put his mind to it.

And now, his father could make it all go away with a snap of his fingers. He’d already destroyed Nate’s dreams of a happy home life, with Nadia as the kind and understanding wife who would look the other way and not complain about his relationship with Kurt. How long before he couldn’t resist ruining the rest of it, too?