All Chapters of Tempting the Wrong Prince: Chapter 141 - Chapter 150

Richard’s POVFor a second, I thought I had misheard him.Not because Doctor Phelix’s words were unclear, but because my mind refused to accept them. It was like my brain reached out, heard the sentence, and then pulled back as if the meaning was too hot to touch.Not compatible.Cannot donate bone marrow.The room didn’t change. James still giggled softly at the cartoon, lollipop in his hand, his attention locked on bright colours and silly voices. The hospital monitor still made its steady sounds. The air still smelled like disinfectant and sugar from James’s sweet.And yet, something in me cracked open in silence.I stared at Doctor Phelix.My throat felt tight, as if the words had lodged there.“How,” I said, but it came out like a breath, not a question.Doctor Phelix’s expression stayed careful. Too careful. Like a man stepping around broken glass.“My tests indicate you are not a match,” he repeated, slower this time, as if saying it gently could lessen the impact. “Which means

Richard’s POVRachel coughed, deep and ugly, the sound scraping out of her like something torn loose. She curled on the floor, one hand at her throat, the other pressed to her chest as if she was trying to convince her lungs to cooperate again. Her face was wet with tears, her hair slightly disordered, her eyes wild with panic.I stood above her like a statue that had been struck and cracked in the middle.My hands were still shaking.Not the subtle tremor of adrenaline.The violent kind, the kind that comes when rage has nowhere to go and the body doesn’t know what to do with it except vibrate.Silvia remained close, not touching me now, but positioned so that if I lunged again she could intercept. Doctor Phelix stood near the foot of James’s bed, stiff, pale, his folder tucked to his chest like a shield. My mother loomed between Rachel and the bed, the paper still crumpled slightly in her grip.James was still on the bed, cartoon playing, lollipop in hand.He glanced up occasionally

Richard’s POVMy mother’s face twisted, tears still falling, but she didn’t deny it.Because she couldn’t.“You still hurt Sandra and me regardless,” I said, voice cracking. “You manipulated everything.”My hands shook as I gestured wildly, my chest heaving.“You even threw a press conference to force Sandra to accept the children,” I snapped. “You made her a laughing stock. You called her barren. Childless.”Rachel sobbed on the floor, curling in on herself. Silvia stood frozen, watching me like I was a man walking near a cliff edge.Doctor Phelix had stepped slightly back, his body language saying he wished he had never walked into this room at all.But it was too late.Nothing could be unseen now.“You went to war with your friends who have stood with us all these years,” I continued, voice rising, bitterness flooding every syllable. “You ruined the Montclaires for this.”I jabbed a finger toward Rachel, who flinched.“For this,” I repeated. “For this moment.”My laughter tried to

Cassandra’s POVDiana’s eyes filled again, but she didn’t let tears fall. She was too strong for that.“You would really go,” she murmured.“Yes,” I said simply.Diana’s throat moved as she swallowed.“And Arden?” she asked.I looked out the window toward the palace gardens, the manicured trees, the fountains, the perfect symmetry that felt like a lie.“I have no fantasy about my relationship with Arden,” I said quietly. “There is too much against us.”My voice remained calm, but my chest burned.“So I won’t take it to heart,” I added, more for myself than for Diana. “If he marries her, then he marries her.”Diana’s expression tightened. “You say that like it won’t break you.”I exhaled slowly.“It might,” I admitted. “But I’ve been breaking for years. I’m tired of pretending I’m not.”Diana rose from the chair and came to me, wrapping her arms around me gently.I leaned into her without thinking, and for a second, I let myself be held.Diana smelled like clean linen and lavender soap

Cassandra’s POVThe King chuckled, and the sound made my skin crawl.It wasn’t warm. It wasn’t amused in a grandfatherly way. It was the kind of chuckle men made when they believed the room belonged to them and the woman in front of them was simply entertaining herself with ideas she did not have the authority to hold.“You are wrong,” King Theodore said smoothly. “It is your fault.”My throat tightened, but I kept my face still. I had learnt that reacting too quickly to him was like bleeding in front of a shark.He leaned back on the bench in the gazebo like the conversation was pleasant, like we were discussing weather or art, not my life and the hunger of an entire country.“If you had not gotten involved with Arden,” he continued, eyes fixed on me, “Arden would have settled for Lady Nala Longman.”His gaze sharpened as if he expected the words to sting more if he said them slowly.“And we would have received aid from Belmont,” he added.A mild breeze moved through the garden, shif