❥ SARAH ❥

I wasn't entirely sure how we managed to get through what happened in the room, but somehow, we did. Now, I found myself standing at the back entrance of the castle. The guards stationed at each wall, their faces hard and grim, clutching their guns like they were expecting something–or someone–dangerous.

It was unsettling, to say the least, but I forced myself to ignore it, focusing instead on the fact that I was waiting for Christopher.

After drying my hair, he had told me to meet him here when I was ready. And I was ready–at least, I thought I was. Yet, there was still no sign of him. I wasn't sure why but there was a strange eagerness bubbling up inside me at the thought of going out with him.

Was it possible that I enjoyed his company? Or was I simply tired of being cooped indoors?

No, It couldn’t be that I enjoyed having him around. He was constantly making my mind a tangled mess, leaving me conflicted and confused.

I had rules–rules that served me well in my line of work. Things were going just fine until he came along and ruined everything.

His kisses, his touch–they still lingered on every itch of my skin, like a print he put on me, refusing to fade away. And now, the memory of the emotional hug we shared not long ago was seared into my mind, refusing to let go.

I sighed, trying to steady myself. ”I need to stay on track,” I muttered under my breath. I had to. The moment we shared was just that –a moment. It wasn't going to happen again. It couldn't.

I don't do feelings with clients.

I don't kiss them. And yet, here I was, having done just that with Christopher.

I needed to think of why I was here and how long I would stay.

“You are not wearing that,” a voice cut through the night, pulling me from my thoughts. I turned sharply to find Christopher standing there, his eyes locked on me. The moment he saw me in full, the dress clinging to every curve, it was like time froze.

The dress was one of the perks of the job. A former client had hired me to seduce his business associate into signing a deal, and he'd paid handsomely for it, insisting that I dress to impress. And so, I did.

The long, green silk gown was meant to be a weapon of seduction. It hugged my figure in all the right places, accentuating my curves, making my breasts seem fuller. But I didn't mind. I loved the way it made me feel–sexy, confident. It was perfect for an evening like this, and I wasn't about to let it go to waste.

I smirked, crossing my arms as I slowly walked toward him. “And why shouldn't I wear it? “ I asked, letting my voice drip with teasing. "Is it distracting?”

“You know it is,” he replied bluntly, his tone leaving no room for doubt. He looked so serious, so controlled, yet I could sense the tension beneath the surface, like he was barely restraining himself from tearing the dress off and maybe fucking me right here and now, despite the guards glancing at us after each three seconds.

My core tightened at the thought, a sudden heat pooling low in my belly.

“Well, too late, I'm not changing,” I said, stepping back, my gaze raking over him. He was always looking tempting, but tonight…Tonight, this was pure torture.

He was dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit, the fabric molding to his frame in a way that made him look even more dangerous. His cologne was rich, intoxicating, filling my senses and making it even harder to think straight.

“You look nice,” I said softly, almost as an afterthought. He chuckled, and the sound sent a shiver down my body. 

I liked hearing him laugh–liked it more than I should.

“And you look like fucking torture,” he shit back, his tone so serious that it sent another waver of heat through me. I tried not to let it show, tried not to let him see how badly he was affecting me. Especially not when I could still hear him saying how much he wanted to spank me.

I wonder if I teased him enough he would actually do it.

“Thank you. I'll take that as a compliment, Christopher,” I replied, letting his name roll off my tongue slowly, watching as his nostrils flared in response. I remembered the first time I'd said his name like that, how it had made him hard. It was fun to see the effect I had on him.

“Let's just go,” he muttered, brushing past me, cursing under his breath. I knew he was frustrated, knew that he was well aware I was teasing him. But there wasn't anything he could do about it–not after he promised he wouldn't touch me unless I begged for it.

Which, of course, wasn't going to happen. At least, I hoped it wouldn't.

I watched him as he turned and started walking away, his broad shoulders cutting a strong figure against the dim light of the castle grounds. There was something new about him—his hair. I couldn’t help but notice the fresh cut, shorter than before. It caught off guard because Christopher loved his hair, always running his fingers through it, relishing in its fullness.

And I apparently loved running my fingers through his hair when we hugged, comforting him. It was always so soft, so full. So why had he decided to cut?

I followed a few paces behind him, my eyes drifting from the sharp line of his shoulders to the strong, confident way he moved. He’d always had this aura about him, one that demanded attention. I couldn’t help but appreciate it, even when I was trying not to let him get under my skin.

As we walked, a sleek black car pulled up in front of us. I assumed he would head straight for the back seat, but instead, he veered to the driver’s side, opening the door with a swift motion.

“Out,” he ordered, his voice carrying that same harsh edge I’d heard him use with the tailor earlier.

The driver, a man perhaps in his late 30s, looked startled. “But Your Highness, your father, the king…”

“I’ll take care of my father,” Christopher cut him off, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You may leave.”

Reluctantly, the driver stepped out of the car, handing the keys to Christopher with a slight bow before walking away, his shoulders hunched as if he’d just narrowly escaped a scolding. Christopher watched him go, a smirk playing on his lips, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he turned back to me.

“Why don’t you want the driver coming with us?” I asked, confused as to why he’d sent the man away. Then, I noticed the guards weren’t moving either. “And why aren’t the guards following us?”

He sighed, almost as if I was missing something obvious. “Woman, do you really want them staring at us during our date?”

I couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “You’re really taking this date thing seriously.”

“Of course I am,” he replied, a brief smile softening his features as he opened the passenger door for me. “I’m on my first date with my wife.”

The laugh died in my throat, and I looked at him dead-on. “Fake fiancée,” I corrected, my voice low as I glanced around, hoping the guards weren’t listening too closely. “Stop using the w-word.”

“What?” He feigned innocence, grinning as he repeated, “Wife?”

I rolled my eyes, knowing I wasn’t going to win this one, and slipped into the car. Behind me, I heard him chuckle before he closed the door and headed around to the driver’s seat.

Once inside, I glanced around, taking in how pristine the interior was. Everything about it screamed luxury, from the soft leather seats to the faint scent of polished wood.

“You ready?” he asked, sliding in beside me and shutting the door. “Wifey?”

I nearly choked on my laughter, my eyes going wide as I stared at him. “What did you just say?”

He leaned in closer, his breath warm against my ear, making me swallow hard. “You heard me. Wifey.”

I cleared my throat, pushing his head back with my hand, trying to maintain some semblance of composure. “Whatever, just drive.”

He flashed me a knowing smirk as he turned his attention to the road, but I refused to let him see how much he was getting to me. Instead, I looked out the window, trying—and failing—to suppress a smile.

This was going to be a long night.

●●●

We didn’t spend much time on the road before Christopher pulled into the driveway of a fancy restaurant. I recognized the name immediately:
La Lune Étoilée.

My breath caught as I took in the scene. The place was even more beautiful at night, glowing softly under the moonlight with golden lights highlighting every elegant detail. I’d never been here, but I knew of it. Sam had shown me pictures, pointing out that this was the last place Christopher’s older brother had been seen before he disappeared. It was the kind of restaurant you’d expect to see in a movie—luxurious and incredibly expensive.

I’d spent hours drooling over photos of their dishes, the kind of food you’d expect to taste like heaven. Sam had loved tormenting me with those pictures, knowing full well I could never afford to eat here. But now, here I was, standing in front of its doors. Excitement bubbled up inside me, though I tried my best to hide it.

“Seems you know the place,” Christopher said, cutting the engine and turning to look at me.

“Oh, yeah,” I replied, trying to sound casual. “I actually follow them on social media. They really know how to tempt people with their food.” I let out a small chuckle, hoping he wouldn’t pick up on how eager I was. I hardly ever got to eat at fancy places, and when I did, it was usually because a client wanted me there, and then I'd end with eating some pathetic salad with cucumber water.

It was like no one understood that a girl just wanted a juicy steak every once in a while.

“I see,” Christopher said, his tone neutral as he got out of the car. Before I could even think about opening my door, he shot me a stern look. “Don’t move. I’m opening your door, so don’t even think about it.”

I wanted to argue, but the look he gave me dared me to defy him. Part of me wanted to push back, just to see what would happen, but something in his eyes made me bite my lip and nod instead.

“Good girl,” he murmured, the words hitting me like a jolt of electricity. My breath hitched, and I had to force myself to push away the thoughts that were starting to flood my mind.

Christopher walked around the car and opened the door for me, offering his hand to help me out. I took it, even though I was tempted to prove I could manage on my own. “I can get out by myself, you know,” I muttered as I let go of his hand once I was on my feet.

“You love complaining, don’t you, wifey?” he teased, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Ugh, stop that,” I warned, noticing the way people were glancing at us. I wasn’t surprised—of course, they’d be curious about why Christopher, their next king to the throne is here, unprotected, with a woman. And I could guess what they were thinking: that I was just his latest fling, someone he’d toss aside once he got bored.

The last thought suddenly made my blood boil.

Christopher smirked as he shut the door behind me, but then, to my surprise, he stepped closer, slipping an arm around my waist. I immediately tensed, trying to remove his hand.

“What do you think you’re doing?” I asked, my voice low.

“I told you to change, but you’re too stubborn,” he said, his eyes narrowing as he looked past me at a few men who had just exited the restaurant. His grip on my waist tightened, pulling me closer to him.

“What?” I asked, following his gaze.

“They’re literally eye-fucking you,” he nearly growled, his voice a dangerous whisper. The way his body pressed into mine made my heart race, and I could feel the possessiveness rolling off him in waves.

I shrugged, trying to keep my cool. “So? I’m used to it. Men stare at women every day. It’s no big deal.” I tried to sound nonchalant, hoping to steer the conversation back to something less intense.

But Christopher wasn’t backing down. He leaned in close, his breath hot against my ear, and nipped at my earlobe, making me gasp. my hand instinctively clenched the fabric of his suit as I struggled to steady my breathing. His lips brushed my neck, where he pressed a hot, possessive kiss that sent my core almost soaking wet.

“I don't give a fuck about how common it is, love,“ he murmured, his voice dark and possessive. “No one else gets to look at you like that, do you want to know why?”

His voice was dark, his words seeping into me like a forbidden promise. ,”Because you're mine, Sarah Wayne,”

My brain felt like it short-circuited, my entire body trembling as his words sank in. Heat pooled low between my thighs, and I had to fight to keep my voice steady. “I belong to no one, Christopher Knight and remember this is fake,” I managed to say through gritted teeth. “You’re really pushing it. People are staring at us.”

Christopher just smirked, clearly unbothered. “I don’t give a shit about what people think. You should know that by now.” His grip on my waist tightened as he guided me toward the entrance, his voice dropping to a more serious tone.“And I was serious about the ring being real, you know,”

I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes. He kept talking about that damn ring, and it was really starting to get on my nerves. Did he think I hadn’t heard him the first time?

His grip on my waist tightened as he guided me toward the entrance, where a doorman waited to greet us.

My eyes glanced around, noticing how people stared at me. It seemed they were victims to the show Christopher just had to pull. My skin prickled under the weight of their gazes, and I desperately wished the ground would open up and swallow me whole.

Why did he have to make such a scene?

“This is so embarrassing,” I muttered under my breath, though I knew he heard me. He didn't seem to care, still wearing that annoyingly confident smirk as we stepped inside.

So he thinks this was funny? Fine.

So he wanted to play this game? Fine.

It was on.

...

Who do you guys want to read next? Christopher or Sarah?

Hope you enjoyed this chapter ❤️