Summary: Drake isn’t going to let MC (Mika) deal with the aftermath of the Coronation alone.
Note: Not canon.
In the moments after Mika and the Beaumont brothers are roughly escorted out of the palace, the ballroom fills with whispered rumors and accusations. No one even questions the photos of Mika and Tariq, their convenient timing, or if there’s more to the story. That, more than anything, fuels Drake’s fury. These people, the public and the press and the other ladies of the court, who claimed to love and support Mika, were so willing to blame her and believe whatever they thought those photos suggested.
Drake would be angry at Liam for not speaking up or refusing to propose to someone else, but he knows his best friend. Liam has spent nearly his entire life trying to do what’s expected of him, to avoid scandal, and to put his family name and country above all else, including his own happiness. In this instance, any protesting Liam would have done would have made things infinitely worse, for himself and for Mika.
He knows, without a doubt, that this entire thing was in the works for a long time. The King and Queen insisting that Mika must drop out and Liam propose immediately, Madeleine’s smug acceptance of Liam’s angry, forced proposal, reeks of ulterior motives and well thought out planning.
Drake is seething, hands clenched at his side, teeth gritted together so hard that his jaw starts to ache. He doesn’t know how, but he has to find a way to fix this. He can’t, won’t, let Liam be forced into this marriage or Mika’s life and happiness be ruined.
He ignores the glares and muttered comments of the people around him as he pushes his way through the crowd toward Liam. Bastien stops him as he gets close, and Drake gives him an incredulous look.
“I’m sorry, Drake,” Bastien says, looking truly apologetic. “The royal family has asked that there be no discussion of these latest…events. This is supposed to be a night of celebration.” Bastien himself looks somewhat disgusted, but quickly recomposes himself.
Drake wishes he was shocked at the reactions of the people around him, now clinking champagne glasses together and moving to begin the Cordonian Waltz, but this is how it’s been his whole life. There is no room for questions or getting to the truth here. People scheme and lie to get what they want, go out of their way to make people look bad, and everything is simply swept under the rug to save face.
“Tell Liam I’m going after her,” Drake whispers to Bastien angrily, then turns and heads for a side door. He can’t help Liam here, he knows, but maybe he can help Mika. He catches Liam’s eye briefly. Liam’s face is a stoic mask, but his eyes are dark and angry as he gives Drake a barely perceptible nod. Drake rushes outside, but the Beaumont limo is gone.
“Damn,” Drake swears. He has little hope that any of them will answer, but he tries anyway, relieved when Maxwell answers.
“Where are you? Stop. I’m coming with,” Drake blurts out.
Maxwell doesn’t respond.
“Maxwell, I am begging you,” Drake pleads.
Maxwell sighs. “Give us 15 minutes.” He rattles off an address and Drake sneaks back inside to gather his belongings. He runs into Hana coming out of the ballroom, her expression still one of stunned disbelief, and she eyes his bag curiously.
“Where are you going?” she asks.
“With them,” Drake answers vaguely, gesturing in the general direction of the main doors.
“Wait,” Hana says. “I’ll see if I can get Mika’s stuff.”
“Hurry.” Drake slides into a darkened hallway off the staircase and waits impatiently for Hana to return.
Hana wordlessly passes him Mika’s suitcase when she comes back, and Drake lets out a surprised “Oof!” as she pulls him into a quick hug. “Let me know what I can do,” she says quietly. “This isn’t-something is seriously wrong here.”
“I know,” Drake answers gruffly. “I have to go.”
The Beaumont limo pulls up on a quiet side street soon after Drake arrives. He slides in quickly, pulling the door closed as the limo takes off. Bertrand is whispering angrily into his phone, Maxwell is blank-faced and staring out a window, and Mika…Drake’s heart breaks as she looks up at him.
She has that deer-in-the-headlights look again, her eyes red, and he feels another rush of anger. He hates these people for what they’ve done to her.
“Drake?” Mika whispers, her voice wavering.
Drake slides over to her, and she immediately turns into him. He feels a few hot tears soak through his shirt, her hands clenching into the material.
He ignores Maxwell and Bertrand’s stares as he wraps an arm around her back, running his other hand through her dark hair soothingly.
“It’s gonna be okay,” he whispers hoarsely. “Okay? We’ll fix this, Mika.”
“Okay,” she whispers.
Gradually, her breathing slows as she falls asleep, and he gently lowers her down to the seat, laying his suit jacket over her and brushing her hair back from her face. She sighs his name sleepily, and Drake feels his face flood with heat.
He joins Bertrand and Maxwell.
“Are you sleeping with her?” Bertrand demands.
“What? Are you fucking kidding me?” Drakes responds angrily. “After the shit show she just went through, that’s the first thing you ask me?”
Bertrand sighs in irritation. “I apologize for…implying anything. It’s been a long evening, and you two seemed…close, just now.”
Drake is tempted for half a second to punch him, but they have enough problems right now.
“We’re not sleeping together,” Drake snaps. He fills them in on what happened that night with Tariq, though he leaves out his conversation with Mika afterwards. His feelings for her are none of their business. Telling them he’s in love with the woman that Liam intended to propose to will solve nothing.
~~~~~~~~~~
When she wakes up, Mika is momentarily confused. She’s curled into the seat of the limo, Drake’s suit jacket wrapped around her. She buries her face into it, taking in his familiar comforting scent, before the events of the Coronation come flooding back and a knot forms in her stomach. She wishes she could just fall back asleep, or rewind time, or just go back to New York and forget this all happened.
As she sits up, she spots House Beaumont outside as the limo slows to a stop. Drake gives her a brief smile as he comes back to sit beside her. “Hey. How are you feeling?”
“I…I don’t even know,” she responds, shaking her head. “It feels like I watched it happen to someone else.”
She wants to ask Drake why he’s here, and not with Liam, but she’s relieved and comforted by his presence, and she doesn’t want him to leave. As they climb out of the limo, she wrinkles her nose down at her dress.
“I can’t wait to get out of this damn thing,” she mutters.
She spots Drake smiling out of the corner of her eye. “Same,” he murmurs in agreement, gesturing at his now wrinkled dress pants and shirt.
Mika takes her same room, immediately shedding the dress and kicking it into a corner of the room, then throwing her shoes after it. It makes her feel marginally better. She rummages through her suitcase, pulling on her jeans and blank tank top.
She wanders down to the study, finding Maxwell and Bertrand, Bertrand on his phone yet again, Maxwell’s eyes glued to the computer screen. They both nod at her, Maxwell smiling momentarily, then return to whatever it is they’re doing. Drake comes up behind her moments later, and she shivers unintentionally as he murmurs low next to her ear. “They are in the zone trying to figure this thing out.”
He pauses before asking, “You want to take a walk? Get some fresh air?”
“Yes please,” she replies gratefully, turning to follow him outside.
They meander through the estate in a comfortable silence. Mika has so many things she wants to say to him, but she doesn’t know how to bring them up, worried about his reaction. They come upon a bench swing, and she’s acutely aware of Drake’s thigh pressed against hers as they sit and she pushes her feet against the ground to rock them.
Drake nudges her slightly. “What’s on your mind?”
“Hmm?”
“You look deep in thought.”
“It’s a lot of things,” she begins slowly. “I…”
She sighs. “You’re going to hate me,” she whispers, looking down at her hands and picking absentmindedly at the soft pink polish on her fingernails.
Drake stills her movements, covering her hands with his. “I could never hate you,” he reassures her.
“Hey.” He tilts her chin up gently to look at her earnestly. “Mika. You can talk to me. Whenever you’re ready.”
He’s so close that she can’t stop her gaze from wandering down to his lips, remembering how they felt against her own, the barely restrained control he’d had, the feel of him pressed up against her.
She flushes as she remembers the dreams she started having about him after their first kiss, dreams where he slowly peeled her clothes off, kissing and biting at her exposed skin, murmuring how good she felt and how much he loved her as he made love to her. She always woke up frustrated and feeling slightly guilty.
“Mika,” she hears Drake murmur. Her eyes dart back up to his, and she’d be lying if she didn’t say she felt a wave of longing and heat pool in her belly at the sight of his dilated pupils.
“I didn’t want to marry him,” she finally says quietly, looking back down at her lap.
“I was panicked, in those moments just before Liam announced his pick. I didn’t know what I was going to do. But this isn’t the way I wanted all of this to go. He doesn’t deserve this, any of this. He’s such a good guy and he’s been nothing but wonderful to me. I just…why couldn’t I have met you first?” she asks in a whisper, trying to keep her tears at bay.
What is Drake going to think? Here she is, confessing that she didn’t want to marry his best friend, just hours after a seemingly scandalous photo of her was released and Liam was forced into an engagement with someone she knows he doesn’t want. But she can’t stop the words spilling out of her mouth.
“I want you so much, Drake. It scares me a little,” she confesses.
When she finally dares to look at him again, he’s simply staring at her. As if in slow motion, she watches him reach out, closing her eyes and leaning into him as he slides his hand around the back of her neck and pulls her closer.
“Mika,” he whispers against her lips. He brushes his mouth against hers gently, slowly, and she sighs as she slips her hands into his hair.
“I want you too,” he whispers, biting her lower lip gently.
She groans quietly as she tangles her tongue with his, moving to press into him. He stops his movements suddenly and her eyes fly open.
“What’s wrong?” she asks.
Drake shakes his head. “I don’t want to stop. But with everything going on…”
He takes her face in his hands, kissing her deeply but all too briefly. “The first time I make love to you, I want it to be just about us.”
Mika shivers at the conviction in his voice. His eyes are impossibly dark, voice low, and she knows, without a doubt, how in love with this man she is.
“I don’t want any of this hanging over our heads,” Drake murmurs, resting his forehead against hers. “I want you, more than you could know. But-”
“We need to deal with this first,” she says softly. “I know.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Why are you apologizing? Liam’s your best friend, Drake. And I care about him. He’s a great guy. He deserves to marry someone who loves him, not a title.”
“This isn’t just about Liam. Someone set you up, and I’ll be damned if they’ll get away with it,” Drake vows. “I meant what I said, Mika. We’re going to fix this.”
Mika smiles, smoothing the angry crease between his eyebrows.
“Teamwork makes the dream work,” she says, laughing quietly.
Drake looks confused. “Teamwork…what?”
Mika smiles as she takes Drake’s hand and pulls him up. “Just something I said to Maxwell once. Come on.”
Drake threads their fingers together, falling into step beside her as they walk back to the house. He hopes she knows how much he means what he said. He wants her, more than anything or anyone he’s wanted in a long time, and he’ll do whatever he has to to fix this.