Semua Bab Tempting the Wrong Prince: Bab 151 - Bab 160

Cassandra’s POVNala went quiet in a way that didn’t feel like surrender.It felt like recalculation.Her smile lingered, but it shifted, thinning at the edges as if she’d realised she couldn’t needle me into losing control with one cheap insult. She studied me like I was a puzzle she didn’t enjoy solving, her eyes flicking from my face to Diana, then back again, measuring what would sting the most.The camera flash from earlier still sat in my mind like a splinter. I didn’t look around again. I refused to give her the satisfaction of seeing me search for the lens. If she wanted proof that she had rattled me, she could starve.Nala set her glass down gently, like she was preparing to deliver something delicate.Then she leaned forward.“When will you get the message,” she asked, voice soft, almost coaxing, “and stop chasing after Arden?”The audacity was impressive.As if she had watched my entire life unfold. As if she knew the difference between chasing and surviving. As if she knew

Cassandra’s POVI looked at Nala and smiled, not sweet, not cruel.Just… composed.Then I spoke, my voice quiet but firm.“Instead of trying to belittle me so I would fight with Arden,” I said, “you should make more effort to win him to your side.”Nala’s eyes sharpened, but she said nothing.“All I can see,” I continued, “is that you’re trying to get me out of the picture.”I took a step back, still smiling.“I’m sorry, Nala,” I said softly, “but I will have to disappoint you.”Her lips parted, as if to snap back.I didn’t let her.“For now,” I said, voice steady, “Arden is mine.”The words felt so good on my tongue that for a heartbeat I almost tasted freedom.Not because Arden belonged to me like property.But because saying it out loud was a rebellion.A refusal to be ashamed.A refusal to be reduced.A refusal to let a foreign princess come into my prison and pretend she could humiliate me for sport.Nala’s face hardened instantly, fury flashing.But I didn’t wait for her reactio

Arden’s POVSebastien was quiet for half a beat, then said, “The President also sent the warning to Father’s office directly. Officially. Publicly. It’s a threat.”“I read it,” I said, jaw tight.“What do you want to do?” Sebastien asked.The question hung.And I hated that I didn’t have a clean answer.Because the truth was, my options were all poison.If I did nothing, Belmont tightened the grip and Eldenwald starved faster. Cassandra became the face of the blame. The mob grows. The palace uses her as a shield.If I publicly reject Nala, Belmont uses it as “proof” I humiliated their daughter. They escalate. They paint me as a predator who used her and discarded her. They push the narrative harder.If I “accept” Nala, even as a political performance, Cassandra becomes collateral again. And I become complicit in the cage they’re building around her.I stared at the floor, feeling the familiar cold rage beneath my skin.“I don’t know,” I said finally.Sebastien went quiet. Then his ton

Arden’s POVBy the time Richard arrived, the sun had already started sliding down the sky like it was tired of watching this country suffer.The light outside my villa was that pale gold that made everything look softer than it truly was. Even the street beyond my gates seemed calmer than Eldenwald deserved right now. Cars moved with ordinary patience. A delivery bike cut through traffic. Somewhere in the distance, a siren rose and fell, the kind of noise you stopped noticing if you lived in a city long enough.Inside my house, nothing felt soft.The silence had teeth.I’d been sitting in the living room with my phone on the table and my mind stuck in the same loop: Cassandra’s name, Nala’s face, Belmont’s headline, the King’s pressure, the mob’s hunger, the lie they sold as truth.I had security on standby, but I didn’t want them in my space. I didn’t want anyone hovering. I didn’t want the sound of radios and footsteps and strategy talk. I wanted one thing only.To see Cassandra.To

Arden’s POVRichard exhaled slowly, eyes closing briefly as if even listening to this was exhausting.Then his phone rang.The sound cut through the room sharply, and Richard flinched as if the ringtone was a slap.He pulled the phone out, glanced at the screen, and his face tightened instantly.“My mother,” he muttered.I watched him carefully.His thumb hovered over the screen for half a second.Then he pressed decline.The phone went silent.Richard stared at it like it might bite him, then tossed it onto the table.He looked at me, eyes burning with a bitter kind of envy.“I envy you,” he said quietly.The words surprised me enough that I blinked.Richard let out a harsh breath. “You didn’t have a mother like mine. A mother that would ruin your life for nothing.”My jaw tightened.“You had a mother,” I said evenly. “You also had choices.”Richard flinched, then nodded faintly, shame flickering.I stepped closer and patted his back once,firm, grounding.“Breathe,” I told him. “You’