I open it. There’s a video attached.
My stomach does a controlled descent down an elevator shaft.
I watch. It’s grainy, badly lit. A security cam angle from last night’s kitchen, timestamped 12:23 a.m. Kellen, in pajamas, rolling dough. I am in the shot, too: leaning too close, smiling, arm lingering longer than strictly professional at his shoulder. The part where I take a swipe of chocolate off his cheek with my thumb and lick it, as if this is a romcom and not a professional disaster, is preserved in high definition. The video ends just as Kellen turns and whispers something that makes me laugh in a way I have never, ever laughed for anyone else, and then Piper and Nolan enter. I already know the rest that’s not shown. The night ended in a series of verypack-related kisses, not the Kellen-and-Piper-only relationship that the public is being fed.
The next message pops up before I can even process:I have more. If you want to keep this between us, wire 50K to the account below.
I keep scrolling. Social media is, as expected, a minefield. No video up yet, but the usual “sources say” rumors are already mutating:Prince Kellen spotted with mysterious man. Kellen’s royal obligations questioned as he steps back from public events. Kellen’s family unhappy about latest ‘media scandal’.I click through the rest, hunting for any mention of my own name, or Piper’s or Nolan’s.
None yet, but it’s a matter of time if this video has leaked.
But would it really bethat badif the world knew the four of us were a pack? I don’t think so, but I’m not royalty, let alone someone with a title that comes with certain expectations, so what do I know?
I slip into jeans and a t-shirt, pull on the suit jacket I’d thrown over the chair, and check the weapon in my holster. Maybe a little much for a digital blackmail, but there’s nothing like overkill to set a tone.
The hallway outside my door smells like lemon and floor polish. At the far end, the cleaning staffers are already at it, arms loaded with supplies and not a care for the digital flames licking at the estate’s reputation.
I cross the hall and knock on Kellen’s door, three short, sharp raps. No answer. I let myself in.
Kellen is sprawled diagonally across the California king. He doesn’t move when I step in, just snuffles and shifts, exposing an inch more of pale skin between t-shirt and waistband. I feel a sharp ache in my chest at how defenseless he looks.
He’ll hate what I’m about to tell him.
I take a minute to check the windows and the hidden cameras. All intact.Good.
I walk quietly up to his side and lean in. “Kellen. It’s urgent.”
He snorts, then grumbles still half-asleep, “Did you bake those scones like you said or were you lying to me again, Blaine?”
I ignore the jolt in my stomach at hearing my last name in his voice. “It’s not about scones. We have a problem. Wake up.”
He opens one eye, then the other. Bleary. Then he opens his blue eyes wide. “What kind?”
“Someone got into the security system. There’s video. Of us. Last night. They’re trying to blackmail me.” I flash him my phone screen with all the notifications. “They’ve sent word to the tabloids, but so far the video isn’t online.”
He props himself up on one elbow. “Like… of all of us?”
My ears go hot. “No. Of us baking. And maybe a little of me licking chocolate off your face. And maybe us all kissing Piper.”
He processes this slowly and then shrugs some. “What’s the threat? If the press leaks it, my parents will be forced to accept this pack.”
“Last I checked, your parents aren’t often forced to do anything.” I pocket my phone. “If they’re not paid, this person will probably send the video to every news outlet that ever wrote the word ‘royal’ or ‘omega pop star’. In the very least, Royal PR and Piper need a head’s up if you want this to play out.”
He goes still. “Shit.”
“Yeah. Shit.”
He drags a hand over his face. “Do you think it’s someone in the house?”
“I’d bet my salary on it. I’ll find them and stop it before anything else happens.” I’m already moving back toward the door.
He gives me a long, level look. “You know what to do.”
I nod. “I need to see Nolan. Stay here.”
He snorts again, but he’s already reaching for his phone to doom-scroll the digital disaster in real time.
Nolan’s suite is two floors up, right next to Piper’s. I make my way there but run into Nolan in the hallway.
