All Chapters of I Married His Enemy: Return Of The Forgotten Princess : Chapter 411 - Chapter 420

“Where is Camilla?” The question fell into the hospital room like a stone dropped into still water, sending ripples through every heart already stretched too thin to bear another blow. For a brief moment, no one answered. Then Rafael cleared his throat, his jaw tightening as if even speaking the words required effort. “She went after Eliana.” The moment that name left his mouth, it was as if the oxygen in the room dropped. Eliana... The devil! The monster!! The woman whose hands were soaked in blood, whose cruelty had dragged their family into fire, bullets, and screams that would haunt them forever. Gloria’s entire body went rigid. Her hands, still trembling moments ago, curled slowly into fists, nails biting into her palms as something dark settled into her eyes, something cold, ominous, and terrifyingly calm. “If she’s not dead yet,” Gloria said quietly, her voice so controlled it was more frightening than a scream, “if Camilla hasn’t killed her yet… then I want her alive.

The hallway outside the operating room felt like a graveyard. A place where hope stood on shaking legs, knees threatening to buckle, and despair waited patiently in the corners, silent and smug, certain that its turn would come eventually. Everyone prayed under the weight of fear. The red light above the operating room door remained on for four hours. Each second it stayed lit felt like another silent verdict postponed, another breath held hostage. No answers or mercy. Just waiting. Lucas hadn’t lifted his head in what felt like hours. His body was hunched forward, his spine curved as though the weight of the world had physically bent him, as though gravity itself had decided he deserved to be crushed. His elbows rested on his knees, shoulders rounded inward, his entire posture screaming defeat even as he clung desperately to control. His hands were clasped together so tightly his fingers had gone numb, knuckles bone-white, veins bulging beneath his skin like they might sp

Outside the ICU...Nikolai finally broke.It wasn’t dramatic at first. There was no shout, no warning, no outward sign that the tightly coiled restraint inside him had reached its limit.It simply… snapped. One second he was standing there, rigid and silent, jaw clenched so tightly it ached, staring at the closed ICU doors as though sheer will might force them open... and the next, he turned sharply away from the hallway like the sight of it had burned him.His fist slammed into the wall hard.The impact was dull, sickening sound of bone meeting unforgiving concrete. The vibration traveled up his arm, rattled through his shoulder, and exploded into pain across his knuckles as skin split instantly under the force.Pain bloomed instantly. But it wasn’t enough. It barely registered.He hit the wall again. Harder this time.The second blow carried everything the first one hadn’t, rage, guilt, terror, and a grief so massive it felt like it might tear him apart from the inside out.His bre

Her head shifted slowly, lifting from Gloria’s side and her lashes fluttered. Her eyes opened just a little, struggling to focus. “Daddy…” she whispered. Nikolai’s head whipped towards her and he dropped to his knees instantly. He gathered her into his arms like a man who had just been given back his entire world, cradling her head, pressing her close, shaking with relief and tears he no longer tried to hide. “Yes, I'm here, baby,” he whispered fiercely, his voice breaking. “You’re safe. I promise. Daddy promise.” “Mommy…” Emily murmured weakly. “I felt so tired. Am I okay?” Cassie sobbed openly, pressing kisses into Emily’s hair, her face soaked with tears. “My baby! God! Thank you for coming back to Mommy! Yes! Yes! You are okay, baby.” Emily clung to her father as he held her, small fingers curling into his shirt like she was afraid to let go. Gloria smiled through her tears, stroking Emily’s hair lovingly. “Do you want to eat something, sweetheart? Grandma will g

Everyone came to visit her with gifts after a few days. One by one, people came to the VIP ward. Flowers came first. Bouquets of every size and color, roses in deep crimson and soft blush, lilies that filled the room with a gentle, clean scent, sunflowers that catch the light as if they, too, were grateful she had opened her eyes again. Nurses moved vases around to make space, laughing softly as they tried to fit them all along the windowsill, the counter, and the small table near the couch. Then balloons arrived. Bright ones. Pastel ones. A ridiculous oversized one that said WELCOME BACK TO LIFE in glittering letters, bobbing against the ceiling every time the air conditioning kicked in. Someone tied a balloon to the foot of her bed. It looked ridiculously funny. Then stuffed animals followed. A teddy bear almost as big as Emily, a soft white rabbit with floppy ears, a tiny plush cat tucked under her arm by Camilla with a murmured, “You always liked this one when you were