Beneath Her Bastard Boss

ree days later, Blair sat in the back of an unmarked FBI surveillance van two blocks away from St. Matthew’s Cathedral, watching her own funeral on a small monitor.

The irony wasn’t lost on her. If wasn’t so important what they were doing, she might have enjoyed it more.

She could see the Gothic spires of the cathedral through the van’s tinted windows, and part of her wanted to be there. Not for the morbid thrill of watching people mourn her fake death, but because she wanted to support her sisters. Even through the grainy surveillance feed, she could see how pale Sutton looked in her black dress, how tightly Keira was gripping the flowers she was supposed to place on Blair’s empty casket. Even though they knew this was staged, it had to be hard on

them.

“Visual on all targets, agents are following Peter Warner. He is almost here.” Agent Rogers said from the front of the van, adjusting the surveillance equipment. “Roman’s in position in the front pew with your sisters.”

Blair’s phone buzzed with a text from Roman: This is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. Your sisters are incredible actors.

She texted back quickly: Almost over. You’re doing great.

His response was immediate: Can’t wait until this is all over and I know you are safe.

On screen, mourners were filing into the cathedral. Blair recognized faces from her job, some college friends, neighbors. Then her stomach dropped as she spotted two familiar figures walking in together.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” Blair muttered.

“What?” Agent Rogers asked.

“Dan, my ex just showed up with Laura, my cousin. Long story short, he is a cheating rat, and she is a bitch.” Blair watched her ex–fiancé and cousin enter the cathedral. Laura’s pregnancy was clearly visible now, her black dress stretched over her growing belly. “The hide of some people.”

Peters, who was monitoring communications from a separate device, looked up. “That’s not necessarily bad for us. More family drama might make Peter more comfortable, less guarded.”

Blair’s phone buzzed: Dan and Laura are here. Sutton looks like she’s going to be sick. Keira looks like she wants to set them on fire.

She texted back: Keep them focused on Peter. That’s what matters today.

“This is harder than I thought it would be,” Blair admitted to Agent Rogers, watching Roman on the screen console with her sisters while Dan and Laura took seats toward the back. Good thing too. Keira might have found it too hard to have them closer. “Watching them have to act like they’re grieving me.”

“After this is over, you can make it up to them,” Rogers said. “But right now, this is the only way to keep you safe and get Peter to confess. The agents are raiding his place as we speak.”

“Target has arrived. Peter Warner just pulled up with his wife.”

Blair leaned forward, watching the screen as Peter and Vivian got out of their black sedan. Peter was wearing an expensive suit and what Blair supposed was meant to be a grieving expression. Vivian looked genuinely upset, which made Blair wonder again how much her aunt actually knew about her husband’s activities.

“He looks upset,” Blair observed.

devoted uncle,” Rogers replied. “We’ve got agents

Peter greet mourners with the perfect balance of sadness and dignity.

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postures. Then Peter approached Roman, placing a hand on

okay” and offering to help with “practical matters.” Your sisters are doing great, but I can see how much this is costing

back:

Martinez, who had baptized her as a baby, deliver a eulogy about her life. About her kindness, her determination, her love for her family. It was

so

“But remember

about their love story, about how she’d changed his life, about the future they’d never have. Even knowing it was all for show, even watching through a surveillance monitor, Blair felt tears prick her eyes. Because some of it felt so real. The part about changing his life, about loving her… was he speaking the truth because it felt like he had been speaking directly to her. The people

phone buzzed a few moments after Roman sat down:

told her he loved her during her own funeral? It was fake, but still. She felt like laughing, but also she wanted to cry.

it was

adjusted the microphone, looked out over the gathered mourners,

and into their surveillance van. “After we lost her parents, she became like a

“A daughter he tried

became. Even after…” Peter paused, as if overcome with emotion. “Even after the financial difficulties that followed their deaths, even after losing so much, Blair never

but noble‘ narrative, but do you notice he couldn’t even say my parents‘ names.” Blair said

The loss of her inheritance. She worked

pew. Keira’s hands were clenched in her lap. Sutton was staring at Peter with what Blair hoped looked like grief rather than hatred. In

Roman.” Peter’s voice grew stronger, more confident. “Some might say she was lucky to find someone willing

an angry text from Roman: What does

at my fake funeral,

death reminds us that life is

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“Just like her parents, she

leaned forward, watching