Miss Fortune Ruined King Novels & Stories

I wanted to ignore her, but something inside me wanted to stamp a message in their worthless brains, so I reached out for the crown on her head, picked it up to her horror, and melted it with the blue fire in my palm. “Who says I need you?” I said, my stern voice reverberating all over the hall. She visibly blanched. “Princess of Fez, unlucky for you, it seemed these idiots didn’t warn you who I am. I’m no gentleman, and I’m not husband material. Find yourself a decent man; don’t let yourself get used by these old men. Now”—I walked past her and sat on my throne, spine straight and arms resting on each side of the armrest—“I won’t repeat myself. If you do not understand, I might as well crus

I folded my arms, trying to steady myself, heart hammering as his eyes flicked toward me just as the guard stepped back. “Ma’am, let’s go. The boss has arrived,” the guard said, calm but firm. My knees trembled as I lifted my gaze. “Who… who is he? Is he…?” I whispered, dread coiling tight in my chest, when suddenly his height felt strangely familiar. “Yes, ma’am. Mr. Evan Grant, our king,” the guard replied. WHAT! This is the evil I’ve been defying? Slowly, I turned toward the car he had stepped out of, the same black shade and model that had vanished into the darkness that night.

I hadn’t intended to go, but Jane said it might be worth seeing his final downfall, like closing the chapter on the misfortune he once brought into my life. Through the glass of the visitation room, I saw Hugh again. He was dressed in a prison jumpsuit, his hair dirty and disheveled. Due to the backlash from his own misfortune, his once-handsome face was covered with red, unhealing pustules, giving him a terrifying, almost grotesque appearance. The moment he saw me, he lunged toward the glass, his bloodshot eyes fixed on me. “Edward… why? How did you beat me?” He ground his teeth as he said, “I was the one who was supposed to be favored! The Heavens were on my side!”

Wanted to believe the Sovereign of Martin Place had finally seen the monster he became. I couldn’t afford that. Not with Callan’s operative sitting fifty yards away waiting to steal my son for a corporate bloodline registry. Lachlan’s grief changed nothing about the empire currently hunting us. “I know he cried, Tobes.” I smoothed his hair. “Sometimes people cry because they broke something they can’t put back together. Go get your wooden ship. We’ll build a fortress out of the couch cushions.” His face lit up. “A big fortress? With a moat?”

Going back to take a look around didn't sound so bad. I wrote in the group, "I'm coming. I'll be there on time. Prepare the royal carriage, gentlemen!" Even after spending a year apart, everyone was exactly the same—we were still clowning around, not even the slightest bit serious. … "Hey, Jason, didn't Erin come back with you?" Tyler asked. My expression stiffened. I'd completely forgotten to tell them I'd been dumped. Tyler glanced at me once and said, "Let me guess. She dumped you?"

What’s the difference between me and a lapdog? I noticed someone exiting the company’s main doors behind us. Instantly, I put on a new face. "Adrian," I said sweetly, "how can you say that? What’s so bad about being the princess’s kept man? Earning her affection should be your honor." Adrian cracked. He shouted, nearly unhinged, "No, it’s not! I don’t even have a job anymore. Without an income, I’m completely at her mercy—a puppet. What do people think of me now? That I used my body to climb up the ladder? That I’m just a man living off a woman?

she said with a pinch of sadness. I rose, slow and steady, like a question mark without a proper answer. My cuffs were on the ground, my gun warm in my hand, and the air was thick with the kind of silence that comes after something irreversible had happened The king’s rook maybe fallen. But the queen? The queen was still standing. And she was about to make her move. By the time they dragged Andros out of the brush, he looked like a failed resurrection. Mud in his hair, shirt torn like a soap opera’s idea of grief, and enough spit left in him to fuel a confession or a final insult—dealer’s choice.

“This dirt floor is where you belong.” Clara, who was aggressively stomping on Keanna, calmed down slightly, catching her breath. Neil, who returned with a great injury, seemed different. Clara couldn’t believe he tossed her aside all because of one whore. He couldn’t become King without her family. She picked the best man to match with her. He’s supposed to be the King and the place beside him is hers. She couldn’t forgive Keanna for taking it from her. The future she so perfectly created was destroyed because of this thing.

As important and special as those times were to me, I can't imagine they would be anywhere near the spectacle that could occur here. "Events sound fun." "Not these events, where his rich friends pour honey in your ear and touch your waist innocently, and think it's okay," she mutters sourly, a darkness creeping into her eyes that has me shivering. "Tai...the King never stops them?" I ask. He may have prefaced his offer with the promise that I don't owe myself to him, and that I'm not expected to be his mistress, or anything of that nature, but I wouldn't be surprised if he wasn't exactly restricting of his friends desires.

murmured the king . " Why , you say ?!.......Easy........You deserved it ! " said Diego with a serious expression and closed the door , leaving the king sulking on the ground . ' What in the world ?!......How did Charlotte catch his eye ?! He is well known for being reserved when it comes to business and a bit of a playboy in his private life . He wouldn't listen to anyone apart from his parents.............There's nothing linking the two of them together . Why ?!.........He could he already address her as his beloved ?!.....Not , only that but he is helping her ruin all the people who have made her life difficult . If she were to tell him to destroy Anadol , I am sure that he would do it wi