All Chapters of THE KING’S UNWANTED BABY MAMA : Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

I CAN’T HAVE PEACE There’s a pause, thick with confusion and fear. “But Melissa, how can we not worry? The news is saying—” “Mom.” My voice sharpens, but with love. “I’m safe. That’s all that matters right now.” I hear her breathing shakily, trying to calm herself. I swallow hard. “How’s Dad?” She sighs. “He’s… better. Much better, actually. The hospital said his bills were cleared. All of them. And that future treatment is fully covered. We… we don’t understand, Melissa. Who—” I close my eyes for a moment, a shiver running down my spine. I already know. I know exactly who did it. But I can’t say it. Not yet. “I’ll explain,” I whisper. “Just… not now. Please trust me.” My dad’s voice comes faintly in the background, asking if I’m alright, if I’ve eaten, if I’m warm enough— and guilt hits me like a punch. “I’m okay, Dad,” I call out. “I’m safe. Really. I’ll talk to you both later, please. I love you.” I hang up before they can drown me in q

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE My heartbeat stutters. “A… rank?” “I’m not interested in any rank,” I say, voice steady, unwavering. “I didn’t ask for this. I don’t want it. I just… want to give birth to my baby and live my life in peace.” Cassia doesn’t waver. Doesn’t argue. Doesn’t flinch. “That is not for me to discuss. I have delivered the message as requested,” she says curtly. Then, without another word, she turns on her heel. Her heels click sharply against the pavement as she marches back to her car, opens the door, and leaves. I stare after her, pissed, my hands trembling with a mix of anger and disbelief. Mia nudges me lightly. “Well… that was rude.” I take out my phone and call the king. The first time goes straight to voicemail. My fingers clench, teeth grit, and I call again. Finally… he picks. “Hello,” his voice comes through, flat, controlled, like I’m already bothering him. I greet him first, forcing my voice calm, then lay out my claim. “Yo

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE The road winds upward, the convoy slicing through the mist like a procession from another world. I press my palm against my thigh to stop the restless tapping, but it doesn’t help. The closer the Grand Castle grows in the distance, the tighter my nerves pull. I lean slightly toward Nina. “Please… tell me what I should know before I walk into that place.” Nina folds her hands carefully, as though choosing her words with precision. “To understand the palace,” she says softly, “you have to understand the royal bloodline.” I nod for her to continue. “His Majesty is the only child of the late King Arthur and late Queen Eleanor. The queen died during childbirth, so he grew up without her.” My eyes widen. “He never met his mother?” “No,” Nina replies. “And it shaped him in ways people still whisper about. The late king eventually remarried—Princess Ravenna. She became queen and gave birth to two more children: Prince Frederick and P

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN By the time Nina finishes giving me all the details about the dinner, exhaustion weighs on my shoulders like a velvet cloak. It’s only 5 p.m. If I close my eyes for just one hour, I can still make it on time. Royal families may act like the world bends for them, but the last thing I want is to walk into that hall looking like I fought a hurricane. “I’ll rest a bit,” I mumble. Nina nods, already dimming the lights and drawing the curtains halfway. “The alarm will wake you. Don’t worry.” I sink into the bed, soft, warm, far too luxurious for someone who will be a concubine. “Ugh”. My body relaxes instantly, but my mind… my mind isn’t ready to rest. Because the moment I close my eyes, Adrian fills the darkness behind my lids. His voice. His scent. The way his eyes had held mine in the throne room, controlled, unreadable, yet something stirred behind them. Something that made my heart beat faster no matter how much I tried to d

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE The moment his eyes lock on mine, the room tilts. Adrian doesn’t speak at first. He doesn’t need to. His stare alone pins me to the far wall, sharp enough to slice through bone, hot enough to melt whatever resistance I pretend to have. Then he moves. Not fast. Not rushed. Slow. Controlled. Predator-slow. Every step toward me tightens the air like a noose. By the time he reaches me, my breath is nowhere to be found. I can hear my heartbeat in my ears, frantic, needy, confused. Before I can pretend I’m not affected, his hand shoots out, gripping my waist, and he pulls me hard into his chest. My body slams against his, solid muscle, royal authority, and barely contained hunger. My breath stutters out in a pathetic whisper. Fuck. Because instantly, every thought becomes: I want him. I want him so badly I’d beg for it. I want him until my legs shake and my name breaks apart in his mouth. I don’t say it. But I feel it. E