CHRIS

"You summoned me, Father."

Those were the first words I spoke as I pushed open the doors to his meeting room. Inside, two grey-haired men—likely around his age—dressed in stiff, expensive suits, were mid-conversation with him.

Their laughter faded instantly when they saw me standing there, my expression far from warm.

“You have no respect,” Father said, his tone sharp, his face etched with disapproval. “Or has the crown made you so proud that you’ve forgotten how to properly greet your elders… and your king?”

My jaw tightened at the jab. I bit the inside of my cheek, holding back the words I wanted to say.

He knew I never wanted the crown. Not then. Not now. So where was this venom coming from?

“I apolog—”

“I don’t want to hear it,” he snapped, rising from his chair with an air of authority that weighed heavy in the room. “Go back outside. Knock. Then come in and greet your king as is customary. Am I understood?”

Was he serious?

I stared at him for a moment, heart pounding with quiet anger, then gave a tight, silent bow. Without another word, I turned on my heel, shut the door behind me, knocked—two deliberate taps that echoed like thunder in the tense hallway—and opened it again.

“You summoned me… Your Highness,” I added through clenched teeth.

A slow, smug smile tugged at his lips. It made my skin crawl.

"Much better," he said, turning to the other men. “We’ll continue this later. I need a moment with my son.”

A slow, satisfied grin tugged at his lips, and I couldn't believe his blood was running through my veins.

It made my skin crawl.

What was he trying to prove to these men? Why was he trying to show power or that he still had control over me even though I was crowned king?

"Much better," he said, turning to the other men. “We’ll continue this later. I need a moment with my son.”

The men stood, bowed respectfully, and left the room in silence. I did the same out of formality, not respect.

"Sit," he said, nodding toward one of the empty chairs.

I sat, hands resting stiffly on my thighs, waiting. He’d cut my trip short, dragged me here without explanation, and I was about to find out why.

Not that my thoughts had been clear since I left.

I hadn't even had time to process what Sarah said.

She wanted out of the contract.

She didn’t want me.

No matter how many times I turned it over in my head, I couldn’t figure out what had pushed her to that decision. To ask what made her make that decision without even giving me a valid reason.

No explanation, no warning—just an ending. And I left her there. Alone. When she desperately needed me the most.

Father demanded my presence, and I left her.

My precious Sarah.

And it hurt.

It still fucking hurt.

"You really think I wouldn't find out?" Father's voice cut through my thoughts, low and menacing. His eyes locked on mine, intense even from across the room.

I frowned. "I don’t understand."

He let out a dry chuckle, one that held no humor—just disdain.

“You think I’m such a fool, don’t you?” he said. “That just because I’m old, I can’t see what’s happening right under my nose. You think you’re clever. You make me laugh, son.”

Frustration bloomed in my chest, heating my skin as my mind raced to figure out what he was getting at.

And then… a chilling possibility crept in.

Elliot.

Could he have found out I was looking for him?

No. I had been careful. I made sure there was no trace—no loose ends, no witnesses. There was no way he could have.

"Father, your words confuse me...." My voice trailed as piles of paper were thrown at me. Some of them lightly touch my face and landed on my laps.

"Explain that, Christopher."

He said my name with a sharpness that cut deeper than I expected—sharp enough to stir memories I’d spent years trying to bury. Memories I had no intention of reliving.

My throat tightened as I avoided his stare and reached for one of the papers on the table.

The room felt colder. My fingers trembled slightly as I unfolded the page.

I didn’t speak. I couldn’t. My mind was racing—confused, stunned, blindsided.

“This is…”I blinked, twice, as if the words on the page would change. As if the truth would somehow disappear if I just looked again.

This is not real.

It can't be real.

“Your so-called fiancée is a girlfriend for rent,” my father said, his laugh low and bitter, like he was savoring every second of this.“New concept to me too, but your cousin Nate was kind enough to explain it all.”

I felt the blood drain from my face.

“Nate sent you this?” I asked quietly, still staring at the paper—Sarah’s website, detailing her services and hourly rates.

“is that all you heard?” he snapped. “"I said your fiancée is selling herself online. Like a prostit—"

“Enough!” I stood up without hesitation. The word ripped from my chest before I could stop it. His eyes widened in shock, of course, surprised that I dared to raise my voice on him.

"This is bullshit, Father."I squeezed the paper in my hand, the crumpling sound loud in the silence. Then I threw it to the floor like it burned.

"What did you just say?"His voice trembled slightly, still caught in disbelief. "Christopher, I asked you a questi—"

"I said this is bullshit!" I snapped, my voice rising again. "Of all the people to believe—you trusted Nate? That bastard has been trying to tear this family apart for years and—"

All of a sudden, I felt a sharp sting across my face.

I didn’t see it coming.

"How dare you?" he muttered, that same cold, thunderous tone rumbling beneath every word.

"How dare you raise your voice at me? How dare you question my judgment?"

But none of it reached me.

The only thing I could feel was the sting on my cheek—the only thing I heard was the truth I’d dared to speak.

I stared at him. He stared back.

His eyes had turned red with fury, his chest rising and falling like he was barely holding himself together. He wanted a reaction from me, something—anything—but I had nothing to give.

Then the door slammed open.

He turned sharply, startled by the sound.

But I didn’t move. I couldn’t. I was still frozen, locked in place.

"What’s going on here?" I heard mother voice.

"Chris?" That was Alex and I realize the entire family was there.

Father’s jaw clenched. His gaze didn’t soften.

"I suppose you both knew about this," he said, his voice laced with accusation.

That’s when I finally looked at Alex.

She was the one who brought Sarah into my world. And right now, I needed answers. I needed to know if any of what that cursed paper said… was true.

But Alex only looked confused. So did Mother.

"Know what, your highness?" Mother asked, trying to move closer.

But Father stepped back.

Rage blazed in his eyes now, unfiltered and dangerous. He wasn’t going to stop. Not until every word—every accusation—was out.

Father pulled another paper from his pocket and handed it to Mother without a word.

Alex leaned over her shoulder, eyes scanning the page.

I didn’t need her to say anything.

The way her expression shifted—eyes widening in shock, lips parting slightly in fear—that was all I needed to know.

That was all I needed to know.

She never mentioned finding Sarah through a website. Not once. And now that I think about it, I never asked. Never pushed for details.

I let myself believe.

So yes, I was to blame too.

But still—this?

Of course it had started off fake for Sarah, but… no.

No.

I refused to believe her feelings for me weren’t true, that it was all fake.

They weren’t.

I saw it in her eyes.

No one could fake that. Not for this long. Not with that kind of intensity.

Not the way she looked at me in our quiet moments. Not the way she held me like I was something worth staying for.

There was love in her eyes.

I knew what I saw.

I saw love.

Whether Alex found her in a bar or through a website, I don’t give a bloody fuck.

I want Sarah and I know she wants me.

Even with her stubbornness back at the hospital, she does.

My biggest mistake was always putting my father first.

I should have stayed and chased her.

At this very moment I felt nothing but regret.

"Where... where did you find this?" Alex looked at father.

Father eyes shifted from Mother to Alex. "You knew about this?" His tone flat  and then I saw him moving towards her. Her body began to shake.

"ANSWER ME !—" he said

"Father." I called him out. His face turned to me. "That’s enough drama for one day."

"Christopher!" Mother shouted. "you do not speak to your father that way."

"Leave him." Father held his hand out. "He's been having the guts to talk anyhow all because of that halot of a girlfriend ."

My jaw clenched. "Sarah is not a halot."

"Then what is this. Huh?" He grabbed the paper from Mother harshly and walked towards me, waving the paper in my front. "Is she some type of witch? Is that the case? She must have done something to you that is fucking with your mind for you not to understand that this could ruin us if it gets exposed!"

"She didn't do anything to me, father."

"I said call me your highness!"

"I will not!" My voice echoed through the office and possibly outside. "I will call you Father because that's who you are! I will call you father because I'm not your servant but your fucking son!"

"My son?" He said then looked me dead in the eyes. "My son would have immediately listened to my demands and not talk back at me."

I smirked darkly. "Like Elliot."

His face froze like a statue. It pleased me.

"You want me to listen to your demands just like Elliot did, right?" I stepped forward. "If you want an obedient son then you better find your fucking son you refused to search for all these years and stop treating me like some royal shit!"

"Christopher!" Mother shouted but I still continue. Father hasn't removed his gaze from me. Fumes boiling from him.

I continued. "Five years. Five fucking years, you haven't once bother looked for Elliot. Because what? You don't approve to his choice in love."

He scoffed. "You want me to accept a man as what? The next quee—"

"Then make Alex queen?" I cut him and turned to Alex, who hasn't stopped watching my outburst. "Alex is perfect. She can rule this kingdom and not me."

"She's a woman."

"She's a royal, and that's enough." I told him. "I can’t rule this kingdom, Your Highness, and you know it. Mother knows it for one." I look at her. "Don't you?"

Mother went speechless. She doesn't need to speak anyway. All the words she had ever said speak louder than now.

"You really don't want to rule." Father said and I nodded. "You know what this means, right?"

"I'm no longer your son." It's expected. I wasn’t hoping for his forgiveness. If he couldn't forgive Elliot, then who I am, he would accept.

"That’s not all. You won't have any will in your name." He said and I could almost laugh.

I don't give a fuck about his will. I have enough money on my own to take care of myself and Sarah, that's if she'd allow me. I hope she does.

I really do.

"Father... Father, please consider this." Alex stood next to Father. Her eyes filled with tears, tempting to fall.

"Alex–"

"Shut up." She snapped. "You... you don’t know what you are saying. How can you think of leaving us? Leaving me?"

"Alexandra." Father said. "It's his decision, and I will accept it."

"No!" She held her arm, but he pulled away. He never liked it when we touched him.

"Enough, Alexandra. I won't change my mind. It seems you might be our next ruler, so I suggest you act like it." He pinched between his nose and sighed. "A woman ruler, how will I explain this to the people? Why do I have incompetent sons who can't simply be king?"

I noticed Alex gulp and a bad feeling rose. She's pregnant. How will she tell Father this?

Fuck. I didn’t think this through.

"Are you happy?" Mother stood in front of me, eyes filled with disappointment. No surprise there. "You're breaking our family, Christopher."

I shook my head. "That’s where you're wrong, Mother. This family was already broken to begin with. " I moved backwards, and before I knew it, I'm out the door and heading towards my room to pack my things.

I entered the room and prepare to pack my things when I felt a buzz sound from  my pocket. I reached down and grabbed my phone from there. A part of me hoped it was Sarah. Maybe a message saying she wanted to see me.

But no. It was someone else.

The person who started all this.

The person who swore never to be found.

'Can we meet?"

It was a message from Elliot.

The feelings that I had each time he sent little messages left through me. I got tired of this taunt.

This needed to end now.

"Yes."