Novel & Cerita Brokedown Palace Book

I sat down on the bed and turned the pages slowly, paying attention to the details on each page. After a long search, I got what I was looking for. #### It is rumored that the bedrooms in the palace are created in such a way that the Golden Shifters can be trapped through a simple charm. ##### Damn! That is it. Where is the process of breaking the spell? I turned the pages over and over in the hope of finding something useful. The time was ticking, and here I was browsing through the book. I let out a frustrated scream and threw the book on the bed. I slumped on the floor and buried my head in my hands.

Lorita commented with disgust, which made Gaberalia blood to boil more, she threw her Iphone at the wall in anger, "Don't worry Gaby,we sure get back at her for you and your prince charming will be surely yours",they assured her. He walked briskly into the large hall filled with thousands of books, where the scents of good old and new books will clear your mind and set it focus for excellence. "This Palace of knowledge must have cost a fortune since it well equipped with wide varieties of great books all across the world and it's modernized", he thought to himself and made a quick search of any traces of an over-over size red hood girl as he paced through the huge book shelves.

So impatient for her. She didn't invite him in but he followed them inside anyway. His brows knitted close as he looked around her apartment, not very pleased. It wasn't tiny but felt too small for her status. Although kept neatly, nothing fancy either. A queen like her didn't deserve to live in a small place like this, she deserved a fucking palace.

Life spilled from every threshold, dissolving boundaries until Adelaide could not tell where one world ended and another began. It felt less like a palace and more like a living village, pressed beneath a single, sheltering roof. Her gaze wandered, greedy for every detail. Fresh mortar gleamed against ancient stone, the scent of lime and dust clinging to the air where wounds had only just begun to heal. A fractured column stood braced with new timber, an entire ceiling replaced with pale wood that glowed against the darkness of centuries-old beams. Nothing was hidden. The palace wore its scars with pride, each repaired wall standing beside another still waiting for its resurrection.

When one was at his lowest in life, the other one was there and made sure to be there till things settled. "How comes I learn that you bought another house through Olivia and not you?" Christian asked as they were playing pool in his entertainment room. This was one of the rooms that they could spend time without any of the staff interfering since he had made it known that it was off bounds to them. He had filled this room with everything that a man would need to be entertained.

Then, I headed for the old archives in the basement of the north tower. It was a place no one went. It was dusty, dark, and smelled like rotting paper. It was perfect. I sat on the floor between two rows of heavy wooden shelves and cracked the first bottle. The liquid burned all the way down, making my eyes water, but it helped dull the sound of Elara’s voice in my head. *You blew it.* “I didn't mean to,” I told the empty room. I took another long swig. “He drugged me. How was I supposed to fight that?”

The reason I didn’t put a bullet in my skull the first time the world told me I didn’t matter. I whispered her name—barely sound, more air than voice. And everything inside me cracked. Not explosively. Not violently. Just… quietly. The sound of a man coming apart without flame or fury — just the slow collapse of something once unbreakable. Footsteps retreated. They weren’t brave enough to enter. Or maybe they knew the destruction waiting behind this door couldn’t be stopped. Good. Let them stay away. Let the estate bleed around me. Let the entire empire fall.

I recoiled, yanking my arm back with such force it caught her off guard. It was exactly what she wanted. She "tripped" over the hem of her silver silk gown, losing her balance and tumbling backward. No one had cleared the shards of the broken wine glass yet. "Ah—!" A sharp cry tore from her throat as she collapsed directly into the mess of glass and spilled blood. Marcus was a blur of motion. He dropped to one knee, ignoring the glass biting into his own skin, and gathered Astoria into his arms. She whimpered, cradling her hand. Shards were embedded deep in her palm; dark red blood oozed through her fingers, painting her white dress in a gruesome smear.

Rebecca. The woman he had loved before my mother blackmailed her way into his empire. The woman he had gone to see in secret while the house burned around us. By seven thirty, the mansion was entirely, deceptively quiet. The crisis team hadn't arrived yet, or perhaps they were already locked in the west wing war room, drowning in the fallout of the high-definition café footage. I pulled on a dark wool trench coat, the collar turned up against the chill, and slipped my phone into my pocket.

Edgar I sank to one knee, pressing a hand to the marble beneath me. The ground felt impossibly cold, like it was trying to swallow everything I’d built,,and everything I’d lost. Smoke curled around the columns, twisting in ribbons, clinging to the banners that were already singed at the edges. The hall smelled of burnt wine and iron and betrayal. It hit me all at once: this was my palace. My life. My rule. And it had just been stripped bare.