CHRIS

"Were the flowers too much?"

I stared at my phone for the fifth time, checking for any missed calls or at least a damn message from Sarah. Nothing. Not even a single, accidental tap on my text.

I knew it. The flowers problem scared her off.

“This is your fault." My eyes burned into Todd’s face through FaceTime on my second phone. "Why the hell did I listen to you in the first place?"

Todd rolled his eyes, sighing like this wasn’t a complete disaster. "Chris, relax. She’ll call. You just need patience."

"Patience?" I let out a bitter laugh, my grip tightening on the phone. "Yeah, well, I don’t have any of that left."

Ever since he convinced me to give Sarah space—to let her think about us—I did exactly that. And I fucked up. The second she slammed that car door in my face today, I knew I had gone too far.

She was confused. I saw it in her eyes. This careful, hesitant wariness like she didn’t know what to make of me anymore. Like she didn’t trust whatever the hell I was trying to do.

But what choice did I have?

She wanted me. I know she did. I felt it in every glance, every unspoken moment between us. But the second it got too real, too close, she pulled away. And because I was an idiot, I let Todd talk me into doing the same. Now? She won’t even talk to me.

Okay… maybe she didn’t hate me, but she sure as hell wasn’t answering my messages.

Maybe she didn’t like roses. Maybe they pissed her off.

But what girl doesn’t like roses?

"I should call her."

I was already dialing before Todd could stop me, my breath catching as I waited—one ring, two, three—then straight to voicemail and even though the sound of her voice brings me some comfort I would like to hear the real deal.

I shut my eyes, exhaling through my nose as her voice played through the receiver for the second time.

It wasn’t enough.

She’s ignoring me and that was as clear as the dark skies that filled this cold night.

I shouldn't have listened to Todd.

Now I was paying the price.

A knock at the door made my head snap up. "Your Highness?" The voice came from outside. "Is everything okay?"

Shit. I had been in the men's bathroom too long.

"Yes, I'm fine." I lied, my voice steady even as I burned with frustration.

I turned back to Todd, lowering my voice. "I'll talk later."

Todd narrowed his eyes. "Chris, don’t do anything stupid."

Too late for that.

"Chris. I’m serious. She needs time."

And I needed her.

"Sure. Talk to you later," I muttered, cutting the call before he could see how close I was to losing it.

My thumb hovered over Sarah’s chat again, thread, scanning for a message—anything. But it was the same as it was eight minutes ago. And fifteen minutes before that.

Nothing.

The same empty screen as before.

Shoving my phone into my pocket, I stepped out of the bathroom, my pulse hammering in my ears. One of the minister’s guards stood waiting patiently at the corner, but barely acknowledged the minister’s guard as I walked past him, my mind already drowning in another problem—one I should’ve been focused on from the start.

I should go meet the minister. That was the whole damn reason I convinced the King to let me leave Geta only a few days after my coronation.

But now? I wasn’t sure if I could sit through that meeting without losing my mind.

I never cared about this visit. The only reason I even considered it was because of Sarah. Because she wanted to see her brother so badly. And I wanted her to have that. I wanted her happy, wanted her close.

And if meeting with the minister gave me an excuse to spend time with her without Alex breathing down our necks, then fine—I’d do it.

But now Sarah wasn’t speaking to me.

Now she wasn’t with me.

So why the hell was I still walking toward this meeting when all I wanted was to find her instead?

I ran a hand down my face, exhaling sharply as I entered the hallway leading to the minister’s office. I needed to get my shit together. Even if I wasn’t in the mood for politics, I couldn't afford to make a mess of this.

The moment I stepped inside, the minister greeted me with a smile, standing as I approached his desk.

“Your Highness,” he said, gesturing for me to sit. “I trust the journey was smooth?”

I gave a tight nod, lowering myself into the chair across from him. "It was."

“Good, good. And I must say, your coronation was quite the spectacle. The Kingdom of Geta has not seen such an event in decades.”

I barely heard him.

My mind was elsewhere—replaying every single thing I might’ve done to make Sarah ignore me like this.

Was it the apology letter? Did that piss her off?

I thought it would help, thought she’d see it and understand how badly I wanted to fix this. But maybe it had the opposite effect. Maybe it just reminded her of all the reasons she kept pulling away.

Or was it the ring?

The one I told her not to take off.

My jaw clenched. She probably hated me for that.

She thought the ring meant nothing, just a symbol of an arrangement she never wanted. But to me… to me, it was more. I knew she wasn’t ready to hear that, so I didn’t say it. I just told her to wear it. Maybe that was my mistake.

Maybe I should’ve explained.

Maybe she would’ve understood.

Maybe she wouldn’t be ignoring me right now.

"Your Highness?"

I blinked, snapping my gaze back to the minister, who was watching me with mild curiosity. I forced my posture straighter, pushing my thoughts of Sarah aside.

At least, for now.

"Sorry," I muttered, dragging my focus back to the conversation.

The minister raised a brow, clearly amused but not pressing the matter. I straightened in my chair, forcing myself to act like I gave a damn about this meeting.

"As I was saying," I continued, shifting the discussion back to what actually mattered. "Geta would like more support from your office. We've been looking into ways to provide employment for the less privileged—work that benefits both the kingdom and your ministry."

That got his attention.

"Go on," he said, leaning back in his chair, interest flickering across his face.

"We propose a collaboration. The kingdom can invest in public projects that require skilled and unskilled labor—construction, trade, even administrative work. That way, those struggling to find jobs can earn a living. Meanwhile, your ministry gains a structured workforce without having to outsource or negotiate higher wages with private firms. Your expenses go down, but productivity remains high."

The minister smirked, clearly pleased. "A rather strategic approach, Your Highness. I assume this means the kingdom covers the wages, while my ministry reaps the benefits of a steadier workforce?"

I gave a short nod. "It’s a mutually beneficial arrangement. The people gain stability, and your ministry gets an influx of workers ready to contribute."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "This is a rather generous proposal. What made you come up with it?"

A slow smirk pulled at my lips. "Actually, it was my fiancée’s idea."

His expression shifted, surprise flickering in his eyes before he sat forward with renewed interest. "Your fiancée?" He chuckled, shaking his head. "I’ve been hearing the rumors."

I met his gaze without hesitation. "It’s not a rumor."

The minister studied me for a moment, then extended his hand. I shook it firmly as he said, "Then congratulations are in order. No wonder you looked like you wanted to run out of my office the moment you stepped in."

I froze for half a second. Was I that obvious?

I barely had time to process that before he added, "I would have asked if we could talk more, but clearly, your mind is somewhere else. We’ll continue this discussion next time."

That was the best thing I’d heard all night.

I nodded, feigning politeness. "I appreciate that, Minister."

As I rose from my chair, he gave me one last parting request. "Send my regards to the king."

I gave him a brief nod and strode out of the office without looking back.

.....

Traffic was tight at a few intersections, but I weaved through it, taking the quickest route I could find. My fingers drummed against the wheel as I neared her building, the weight of everything settling in my chest.

The last time I saw her, she was furious.

Now I had no idea how she’d react to me showing up like this.

Would she slam the door in my face? Ignore me completely? Or worse—look at me with those unreadable eyes that made me feel like I was losing her?

I took a deep breath, gripping the wheel tighter as I turned onto the road leading to her place.

Then, just as I was about to park, I saw her.

"Sarah."

I didn’t even realize I said her name aloud.

She was stepping out of the building with two others—another woman and a man. But I barely noticed them. My eyes were glued to her.

She looked stunning.

The streetlights cast a soft glow over her, highlighting the way her hair cascaded down her shoulders. She was wearing a sleek, fitted dress that hugged her in all the right places, the fabric teasing against her legs as she moved. The way she laughed—so effortlessly, so carefree—sent a sharp pang through my chest.

God, I missed that sound.

A car pulled up in front of them, and the man with her moved to open the door.

I tensed.

Then Sarah patted the guy’s cheek.

My grip on the steering wheel tightened, heat curling in my veins—until the other woman turned and pressed a deep kiss to the man’s lips.

I exhaled slowly, loosening my hold.

They got into the car, and without thinking, I did the only thing my desperate, reckless heart could manage.

I followed her. I kept my distance, my hands gripping the wheel tight enough to make my knuckles ache, but I never lost sight of the car. My heartbeat pounded in sync with the dull roar of the city outside, but none of it mattered. The only thing I focused on was her.

The car finally pulled up outside a club, the neon lights flickering in the dark like a damn beacon. Even from here, I could hear the bass thumping inside, vibrating through the pavement.

I eased my car to a stop a little down the street, watching as the guy got out first. He rounded the car to open the back door for the ladies and his perhaps–girlfriend climbed out first, fixing her dress, and then—then came Sarah.

The moment she stepped into the glow of the streetlights, my breath hitched.

Fuck.

She looked incredible.

The dress she wore hugged her in all the right ways, dipping low enough at the back to make my throat go dry. The way it swayed with every step made my hands curl into fists. Her hair cascaded in soft waves, framing her face, her lips curved in a smile that wasn’t meant for me.

It should have been.

She laughed at something the other woman said, her eyes shimmering with amusement, completely unaware that I was right here, watching.

My stomach twisted. She looked happy. Relaxed. Free.

The three of them headed toward the entrance, and the moment Sarah disappeared inside, something snapped inside me.

I need to see her. I need to talk to her.

The suit suddenly felt suffocating, like it was strangling me. I yanked off my jacket and threw it in the backseat before rolling up my sleeves, trying to steady my breathing.

I barely registered the sound of my car door slamming shut as I pushed through the crowd and walked straight into the club.

The moment I stepped inside, it felt like a damn maze.

The pounding music vibrated through my skull, an unwelcome assault on my eardrums. Every step forward was a struggle—dim neon lights flickered erratically, cutting through the darkness just enough to cast moving shadows. It was the kind of place where sight was a luxury, and touch was the primary language. A club where anyone could do anything to another person without question, without restraint.

Sarah wanted to come here?

Did she want any man touching her?

I cursed under my breath, frustration clawing at my chest. Finding anyone in this chaotic mess was impossible. The sheer number of bodies pressed together, the stifling heat, and the constant pulse of music made it damn near unbearable. I could barely see a thing, and the more I searched, the more the idea of giving up gnawed at me. Maybe I should just wait in the car, let her come out on her own—even if it took hours.

But the thought of her already being in someone else’s arms, of her leaving with another man while I stood here like an idiot, made my blood boil.

No. Not happening.

I forced myself to focus, inhaling deeply to steady the frustration rolling through me. My eyes swept over the writhing bodies, scanning the space carefully this time instead of aimlessly shoving through the crowd.

I moved toward a private corner, one that was almost completely swallowed by darkness. From here, I could observe better. I ignored everything else, searching only for her—any woman who matched my Sarah.

My gaze darted from one shadowy figure to another, searching for her. The dim lighting made it difficult, but then—there.

A woman with long, wavy dark hair, her figure just like Sarah’s, moving through the crowd. My heart lurched in my chest, my pulse spiking with a rush of relief and something deeper—something possessive.

Come on, love. Let me find you.

I pushed forward, weaving between bodies, my focus locked on her. But as I got closer, she turned her head, and my hope shattered.

Not her.

The disappointment hit harder than it should have. My jaw tightened, frustration simmering beneath my skin. This was pointless. After minutes of standing there, scanning every damn face like a desperate stalker, I exhaled sharply and turned toward the exit. Maybe waiting outside was the only option.

But just as I moved, something in my peripheral vision made me stop. My eyes flicked upward, drawn to the second level where more people danced under the neon glow.

And then—I saw the woman who has been on my mind from the moment we clashed together.

She was dancing with her friend, her body moving fluidly to the rhythm. Her eyes were closed, completely lost in the music as her hips swayed to each beat. The neon lights skimmed over her, illuminating the sheen of sweat on her skin, the way her dress hugged every tempting curve.

A slow smirk tugged at my lips.

Found you.