Semua Bab The Mad Prince’s Claim.: Bab 1 - Bab 5

CHAPTER ONE: Anastasia's POV: You know how the saying goes; Do not fall for your boss. Okay, fine. Not a saying but an unspoken rule. Kinda. A rule I'd long broken because I've been hopelessly in love with my boss, Kaiser Lancaster, for six years. Six years. Everyone around us knows this except him. And that hurts.Worse, he cares for me in ways that don't help this maddening hunger for his love but that's about it. He doesn't see me in the way I see him, he sees me as his daughter.Which annoys me by the way. I'm not his daughter. I'm a twenty-three-year-old grown woman and he's only forty-two.Right now, he has my bleeding arm tenderly in his hand, his brows drawn tight with concern. When he does things like this, I just fall even more.Eventually, he sighs. “Stasia, how did you let this happen? You're one of the best assassins I have and yet you let a pot-bellied, old man stab your arm?” I fight an eye roll.“I'm fine,” I hiss, though my wound stung like a bitch. “Fine?”

CHAPTER THREE:Anastasia's POV:THREE MONTHS LATER…I like pastel colors too, I like pink, hell, lilac makes my heart beat faster. So why do most of the ceremonial ball gowns Kai had his stylists make for me seem dull or too dark? Don't get me wrong. I love dark clothes too. It especially helps us blend in with the crowd when we are on a mission but right now, standing in this gigantic ballroom with twenty other young women my age, I look like the odd one out in the army green gown that I could have sworn looked black.Standing out was the last thing I needed right now.Huffing, I scan the ballroom for Rhea and Shane who were supposed to be my handmaiden and body guards, respectively. My eyes fall on them at the other side with all the other bodyguards and handmaids, they look on high alert just like me. CLINK!! CLINK!! CLINK!!The sound of steel against glass echoes and we all turn in the direction of the noise to see a short, burly man holding a spoon against a wine glass.“Ladi

CHAPTER FIVE:Zayne’s POV: “You keep making our mother angry,” Reynold sighs. “You didn't have to go to the ballroom in your drunken state, it gives the royal family a bad name.”I scoff. “First, she’s your mother, not my mother.” He keeps forgetting that part.“She raised you, therefore, she’s your mother,” he says firmly. “And it’s only right if you show her some respect.”Here we go again. “Is this why you’re in my room this late? To bore me with lectures about family and the importance of family?” I ask, a mocking edge to my tone. “If that’s why you're here, save your breath. I'm not interested in kissing anyone’s ass or being the picture-perfect prince.” He facepalms, groaning softly. “You’re twenty-six, no longer a teen! You've gotta start acting like a grown man. Like a prince who has duties.”‘Prince who has duties.’ Makes me laugh loudly. “I’m the spare, brother.” I turn, walking over to my mini bar and pour myself a glass of wine. “I do not have ‘duties.’”“Nonsense! O