Semua Bab Royal Trouble: A Naughty Prince Meets His Match : Bab 91 - Bab 100

The clang of metal from the police van still rattled in the palace courtyard when the last of the captives were thrown inside. Handcuffs bit into wrists; boots stomped on stone; the police moved with departmental efficiency, their faces set like flint. Nurses who had been trembling minutes earlier watched from the ward entrance with hollow eyes. The kingdom, for a few heartbeats, seemed to stop and listen. Carl watched the scene through clenched teeth. He had not spoken during the apprehension — words were weapons he preferred to keep sharp and unsheathed for the right moment. Now, at last, he stepped forward. The crowd hushed as the police officers closed the rear doors and pulled the van away. The click of the locking mechanism sounded to him like the closing of a chapter that was only just beginning. He turned toward Mr. Lane with the full force of what he had been holding in for days: grief, fury, and an inexorable need for justice. “Uncle,” Carl said, his mout

The airport had emptied, its bright noise dissolving into the silence of consequence. The chatter of travelers, the roll of suitcases, the laughter of families reuniting—all of it faded into an uneasy hush when the flashing red-and-blue of police cars washed across the glass walls of the departure wing. Officers moved with steady, deliberate steps, their boots echoing against the tiled floor as if announcing the arrival of judgment itself. “Mr. Lane?” one of them said, voice respectful but edged with firmness. His hat cast a shadow over his eyes, but his posture left no room for argument. “We’ll need you to come with us for questioning. Please cooperate.” Lane’s mouth twitched. For a fraction of a second, the steel of defiance gleamed in his gaze. But then, like a man rehearsed in the art of masks, he smoothed his face into calm composure. Adjusting his tie with deliberate grace, he looked more like a corporate tycoon attending a board meeting than a suspect about to be

The evening was unusually still in the Lane mansion. A heavy silence pressed against the walls, broken only by the faint ticking of a clock in Cane’s room. Inside, the two brothers sat across from one another, shadows flickering on their faces as the lamplight swayed. Cane leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, his eyes clouded. Andrew sat at the edge of the bed, restless, his hands tightening and loosening as though words burned in his chest. Finally, Andrew broke the silence. “Brother,” he said, his voice low, almost uncertain. “I don’t like how Father is treating the princess. It feels wrong. We already have everything we could want. The king never denied us anything from the company. He treated us like his real sons even though we’re not princes. He gave us wealth, respect, a name. So why… why is Father acting like this? Why does he want to destroy them?” Cane exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples. “You think I haven’t asked myself the same thing? I hate it too

Midnight Visitors The palace was quiet, heavy with the weight of midnight. Carl had barely closed his eyes when the sound of muffled voices drifted through the corridors. “Who are you? Stop right there!” the guards barked outside. Carl immediately rose, his instincts sharp. He hurried toward the gate and saw the torches gleaming off two familiar figures — Cane and Andrew, standing nervously before the guards. Their faces were pale, their clothes slightly disheveled from rushing in the night. Carl’s eyes narrowed. With a single gesture, he signaled the guards to stand down. “Let them in.” As the brothers stepped inside, their gazes darted around, as though afraid shadows might betray them. Carl folded his arms. His voice was low and edged. “What now? Why are you here at this hour?” Before Cane or Andrew could answer, Ariel — who had been resting nearby — spoke gently. Her tone softened the edges of the tension. “Carl, be patient. At least t

The morning sun stretched lazily across the horizon as Ariel was finally discharged from the hospital. The soft golden light fell gently on her pale face, almost as though nature itself wanted to shield her from the turmoil she had endured. Charlotte, Vicky, and Becky had all come early, excited and relieved to finally escort her home. They stood outside the hospital doors, clustered together, chatting nervously until Ariel appeared. Her steps were careful, her hand pressed gently against her side where the lingering pain still gnawed at her ribs. Though her lips curved into a smile, her eyes betrayed the fatigue and discomfort she was hiding. Just as they were preparing to help her into the car, a familiar figure appeared running down the highway. Lilian, out of breath, waved desperately. “Wait! Please, wait!” she called, her voice slightly trembling. The group turned, and Ariel’s weary smile brightened for a moment. “Lilian…” she said softly. Lilian reac