At the Same Time - The Prince's Office

Prince Eugene was signing documents when the door suddenly flew open.

A bright, musical voice rang out:

"Surprise!"

A beautiful young woman bounced into the room, grinning from ear to ear.

Eugene looked up, visibly startled.

"Vanessa? What are you doing here?!"

She laughed as if the question was ridiculous.

"I came to see my big brother, can't I?"

"You didn't inform me. And do Mother and Father know you're in Texas?"

"Hm... not exactly," she said in a childish tone, rocking on her heels.

"I just missed you. So I bought a ticket and came!"

Eugene pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Well, now that you've seen me, you can go back."

"What?! I just arrived!" she exclaimed, hurt.

"Are you not happy to see me?"

"I am happy," he said quickly, "but I'm extremely busy. I don't have time to entertain you."

"That's fine. I don't need babysitting."

She shrugged cheerfully.

"I'll go home on my own."

"...Home?" Eugene repeated slowly.

Suspicion crept into his tone.

"Your home, of course! I miss that castle of yours. I'll head there now."

"No."

The word shot from his mouth too quickly.

Vanessa blinked.

"Why not? Why are you acting so strange since I got here?"

Eugene coughed, struggling to mask his anxiety.

"I... uh... I'm not acting strange."

But he was.

Desperately so.

"Actually... it's nothing," Eugene said, forcing a tight smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"The castle is undergoing reconstruction. Yes, reconstruction. So no one is staying there at the moment. I've been sleeping at my other house, the condominium near the company. You... might not like the place, so I was thinking..." he cleared his throat, "...why don't I call a hotel and prepare a suite for you?"

Vanessa shook her head firmly.

"I didn't come to stay in a hotel. I came to see my brother. Wherever you are staying... is where I'll stay."

Eugene's jaw clenched.

"...Alright then. The condominium it is."

Before Vanessa could question that stiff expression on his face, the landline rang.

He picked it up.

At the same moment, his phone vibrated with a new message, and Vanessa happened to glance at it.

YOUR WIFE TRIED ESCAPING AGAIN, SIR.

Vanessa froze.

Wife?

His wife?

Since when?!

Before she could fully process the shock, Eugene ended his call and picked up his cell phone.

The moment he read the message... his entire face hardened.

A frigid, intimidating aura replaced the mild annoyance from moments ago.

His eyes darkened, his posture sharpened.

He pressed a button.

A knock sounded almost instantly.

Nicolas entered the office.

Vanessa's heart raced.

Something was very, very wrong, and she was now certain that message was not a mistake.

The temperature in the room seemed to drop as Eugene spoke.

"Vanessa," he said without looking at her, "you can go now. I'm busy."

His tone was cold.

Dismissive.

Commanding.

Vanessa forced a smile.

"Okay... no problem. I'll get going now. Take care... bye."

She walked out calmly.

The moment the door closed... she pressed her ear to it.

Nothing.

Not a sound.

Not a whisper.

The office was soundproof.

Her curiosity, however, wasn't.

She stepped away, crossed her arms, and muttered:

"Fine. If big brother won't tell me what he's hiding... I'll find out myself."

And with that... she headed straight for the castle.

IVANNA'S ROOM

Ivanna lay curled on the couch, her entire body trembling.

Her vision spun, her skin burned, and her breath came in shallow gasps.

The punishment Lady Margaret gave her today had pushed her too far.

Her fever was back, harsher, hotter, almost blinding.

When the door opened, she didn't lift her head.

She barely cared.

Probably Lady Margaret again... here to torment me some more, she thought bitterly.

But then...

She caught a scent.

A rare, expensive perfume.

Soft, floral, unmistakably luxurious.

Louis XIV.

A limited edition she had seen only once, on a fashion runway.

Lady Margaret would never wear something like that.

Ivanna weakly pushed herself up and turned her head.

And froze.

A young woman stood in the doorway.

She looked to be Ivanna's age, or perhaps a little younger, but she was dressed like royalty... elegant, radiant, breathtakingly polished.

Her lake-blue designer gown flowed like silk water.

A ruby necklace glowed at her throat.

Her fair skin glimmered.

She moved with the grace of someone raised in wealth and privilege.

Her beauty was dazzling.

Her presence overwhelming.

Ivanna felt smaller than ever.

Vanessa blinked, equally shocked to see an exhausted, feverish, stunningly beautiful girl curled on the couch.

Everything about her screamed:

wealth... privilege... power.

But what shocked Ivanna the most was the expression on the girl's face...

not disdain,

not arrogance,

but genuine surprise.

Almost... confusion.

Vanessa blinked, taking in the sight of the frail girl curled on the couch, sweat-drenched and trembling.

She had come expecting secrets, perhaps even scandal.

She never expected this.

A beautiful girl with a fever.

A girl who looked trapped.

A girl who looked like she hadn't eaten properly in days.

A girl who, despite her condition, still managed to possess a breathtaking, delicate kind of beauty.

Vanessa entered the room slowly, her heels clicking softly against the marble.

Ivanna's heart pounded with a sudden, unfamiliar fear.

This girl... whoever she was... didn't belong to the nightmare she had been living.

Her gown alone must've cost more than people's entire closet.

And she was staring at Ivanna with wide, startled eyes.

For a brief second, Ivanna wondered if she was hallucinating.

Earlier...

Vanessa had come to the castle in defiance of her brother's warning, her instincts gnawing at her all morning. Eugene's strange behavior, his clipped tone, the hurried dismissal... Everything felt wrong.

And when she arrived at the mansion, her suspicions only deepened.

There were no signs of reconstruction. No workers. No tools. No noise.

Nothing... except an unnerving quietness and the eerie absence of most maids.

Something was off.

Trusting her instincts, she began searching room by room. Ten rooms later... after nearly giving up... she opened the next door and froze.

There, curled up on a couch, was a girl.

A breathtakingly beautiful girl, though currently pale, drenched in sweat, and clearly feverish.

Vanessa stepped inside slowly, eyes widening in disbelief.

Even through the disheveled hair and trembling shoulders, the girl's beauty was undeniable.

A soft, delicate kind that struck instantly... raw and untouched.

The kind of beauty that didn't need a single drop of makeup.

For a second, Vanessa simply stared, momentarily mesmerized.

Then the girl lifted her head weakly, and their gazes met.

Vanessa recovered first, offering a warm smile.

"Hi... my name is Vanessa. You must be my brother's wife, right?"

Her voice was warm, bright, almost musical...

the complete opposite of Margaret's cold commands.

Ivanna blinked.

Brother's... wife?

The resemblance between this girl and Eugene was unmistakable, the eyes, the jawline, even the subtle lift of their brows... minus the cold aura that made Ivanna tremble.

She wasn't imagining things.

This girl was truly his sister.

A real family member.

So he wasn't a ghost...

Not a scammer.

Not a phantom.

He truly existed, and this was truly his sister.

Proof that her marriage...

her nightmare...

her captivity...

...was tied to someone who actually existed.

A strange mix of relief and heartbreak punched through her chest.

All the pain she had bottled up for days, the humiliation, the hunger, the punishments, the fear, the loneliness, burst out of her in a sudden, uncontrollable wave.

Ivanna covered her face as hot tears poured down her cheeks.

Suddenly, uncontrollably, tears filled her eyes.

Vanessa's eyes widened.

"Oh! Hey-hey-wait, did I say something wrong? Why are you crying?"

But Ivanna was already sobbing, covering her face as her shoulders shook violently.

She couldn't stop.

She couldn't breathe.

She felt Vanessa kneel beside her.

Gently.

Cautiously.

Like someone comforting a wounded animal.

Vanessa touched her arm lightly.

"W–Wait! I didn't mean to scare you! Did I say something wrong? Are you hurt? Why are you crying?"

But Ivanna couldn't hold it in anymore.

"Did you see what your brother did to me?" she choked out between sobs.

Vanessa blinked. "What... what did he do?"

"He is wicked!" Ivanna cried harder. "Eugene is so wicked... so cruel... so... so heartless!"

Vanessa's eyes snapped wider.

"...Eugene?" she repeated. "He told you his real name?"

Ivanna sniffed, confused. "What do you mean? Isn't Eugene his name?"

"Well... yes," Vanessa admitted. "But he never uses it. Everyone calls him the prince. He hates using his birth name. So if he told you... he must really consider you special."

"Special?" Ivanna scoffed bitterly. "He hates me. He kidnapped me. And now he's trying to kill me through that wicked woman!"

Vanessa's expression snapped from shock to horror.

"Wicked woman? Who-?"

"Lady Margaret!" Ivanna cried. "She's been punishing me every day! She doesn't care if I die!"

"Lady Margaret is HERE?!" Vanessa all but shouted.

The shock was genuine... borderline panicked.

"Yes!" Ivanna continued desperately. "She never stops punishing me. I'm always cleaning, kneeling, cooking... she doesn't let me rest! I feel like I'm dying!"

Vanessa ran a shaky hand through her hair.

"I know how terrifying she can be," she admitted, voice softening. "She trained me when I was younger. Military-style training. I thought I wasn't going to survive half the time."

Ivanna's tears slowed, replaced by exhaustion.

"Why would he bring her here? What did I do wrong? I know I'm not perfect... but is that enough to treat me like this?"

Vanessa sighed, helpless.

"I don't know why he's doing this. Eugene is strict but... he's also warm. Caring. If he married you, there must be a reason. Maybe he's trying to help you improve? I don't know..."

"I don't want to 'improve' anymore," Ivanna whispered, voice cracking. "I want to go home. I want my parents. Please help me... call them. I don't want to be married anymore."

She grabbed Vanessa's hands with trembling fingers.

"Please help me. Please."

Vanessa swallowed hard, torn.

"I-I don't know. Maybe I can talk to him fir-"

"No!" Ivanna cried. "Don't tell him! That giant woman will punish me again!"

Before Vanessa could respond, the door swung open.

Both girls jerked their heads toward the entrance.

Lady Margaret stepped in.

Tall.

Cold.

Intimidating.

Her expression, unreadable.

Her gaze flicked from Vanessa... to Ivanna... then back to Vanessa again.

"Vanessa, you are here."

Lady Margaret's voice cut through the room like a drawn blade, cold, sharp, unwelcoming.

Vanessa stiffened immediately.

Even as a fully grown woman, she felt that familiar instinctive chill crawl up her spine.

Some habits never left; Margaret's presence had always commanded fear... and submission.

"Y-Yes," Vanessa replied with forced calm, straightening her posture.

"Yeah, Madam Margaret... I actually just got here," Vanessa said, forcing a cheerful smile though her voice wavered slightly. "I wanted to come see my brother's wife."

She let out a dry, nervous laugh.

Lady Margaret's cold eyes narrowed.

"Of course. A necessary courtesy. I'm just wondering, does your brother know you're here?"

"I... I wanted to surprise him," Vanessa replied, timid as a child caught stealing biscuits.

"Mm." Margaret's tone sharpened. "Well, surprise over. You've overstayed your welcome. She..." she jerked her chin toward Ivanna "...needs to come prepare lunch."

"Can I just have one more minute with her, you know, to say, hello?" She asked jokingly.

Her tone was clipped. "She has chores to complete. You are distracting her."

"Oh. Chores." Vanessa forced another shaky laugh. "It's... good you're teaching her how to cook."

Then, more sincerely, "Madam Margaret, she's not feeling well today. Couldn't you let her rest, just this once?"

"She looks perfectly fine to me," Margaret said in that cold, clipped tone that could slice flesh.

"And no, she can't pass. You should leave now, and return after getting your brother's consent."

"With all due respect, Lady Margaret, she looks terribly sick. She needs rest, not chores."

Ivanna's heart thudded anxiously.

This was the first time someone had spoken for her since she arrived.

The first time someone stood between her and the iceberg called Margaret.

But Margaret didn't even blink.

"She is recovering," she said coldly. "A little sweat is normal. And her fatigue is a consequence of her indiscipline."

Vanessa's brows shot up. "Indiscipline? She looks like she might collapse!"

"That is because she attempted to escape," Margaret replied calmly, as if discussing the weather.

Ivanna's breath caught in humiliation.

Vanessa whipped toward her, eyes widening in disbelief, but not judgment.

"You tried to escape?" she whispered sympathetically.

Ivanna bowed her head silently, shame washing over her again.

Margaret continued mercilessly, "She received a punishment appropriate for her action. And she survived. Now...she must continue her training."

Vanessa's lips parted in outrage.

"Training? She's my brother's wife, not a soldier!"

"LEAVE!" Lady Margaret barked her command.

Vanessa swallowed.

"O-Okay. I'll come back later then."

She took a step toward the door, visibly intimidated.

But unexpectedly, Ivanna reached out and grabbed her hand tightly, clinging to her like a drowning victim clutching driftwood. Her grip trembled. Her eyes pleaded.

Vanessa froze... then squeezed her hand gently, giving her a soft but reassuring look.

A silent message: I'll try.

Ivanna reluctantly released her, shoulders heavy.

Vanessa had barely taken another step when Margaret's voice cracked through the air:

"Your brother wants you in his office. Immediately."

Vanessa's eyes flew wide open.

"Oh my God...Madam Margaret, why did you tell on me?" she squeaked, horrified.

Margaret simply shrugged, bored.

"This isn't fair!" Vanessa huffed indignantly

..then stomped her foot and rushed out, muttering complaints under her breath.

The moment she was gone, Margaret turned back to Ivanna with a glare sharp enough to stab.

"You think she can save you?" she sneered. "Don't deceive yourself. Get up. Lunch won't cook itself. Move your lazy butt to the kitchen."

"B-but... I don't feel well today... can I not cook...just today?"

"I said no." Her voice thundered like a gavel. "Don't get on my nerves. Get to the kitchen this instant."

Ivanna tried again, "B-but-"

"One more word and I'll double your punishment."

Ivanna stiffened, then released a long, defeated exhale.

She dragged herself up, legs shaky, and slowly trudged toward the kitchen like a prisoner being led back to her cell.

Vanessa sat stiffly in the large office, wringing her hands on her lap.

Her brother stood with his back to her, rigid, tense, his aura cold enough to chill the room.

When he finally spoke, his voice cracked like thunder:

"Did I not tell you not to go to the castle?!"

Vanessa flinched.

"You said it was under reconstruction... I just wanted to see. You didn't tell me you were hiding your wife."

"Shut up!" he snapped, spinning around with eyes blazing. "I warned you, Vanessa! Stay out of my business! If I say no one goes to the house, then NO ONE goes there! Why must you poke your nose into everything?!"

He slammed a hand onto his desk.

"This minute...you're packing your bags and going back to California."

"What?! But I literally just got here!"

"I don't care. I don't give a damn. Get out...and don't ever show up unannounced again. Do you hear me?!"

"But Eugene..."

He froze.

Then inhaled sharply, as if she had stabbed him in the chest.

"What... did you just call me?" he growled.

Vanessa shrank back.

"But that's your name. I don't know why you hate it so much...your wife calls you by that name, so why can't I?"

His jaw tensed.

No, locked.

"Vanessa," he said dangerously low, "you're walking on a very thin line. I am already furious. Do not push me further. Get. Out."

"But big brother..." her voice softened into a pleading whisper. "Can't I stay a little longer? I really like your wife. She's so beautiful and kind. I really, really like her. Can't I stay with her? Please?"

He scoffed.

"Who? Ivanna?"

"Yes! Is that her name? It's beautiful. I didn't even get to ask because Lady Margaret was... terrifying."

Vanessa pouted, then frowned.

"She forced Ivanna to cook even though she's sick. Big brother... are you aware your wife isn't feeling well?"

Eugene's voice cut through the office like ice. "Are you done gossiping? Then leave. You got here five minutes ago and you know nothing about her, so spare me the lectures."

He turned back to the mountain of files on his desk, burying the interruption in paperwork.

"But, big brother-" Vanessa began, clutching at the frayed edge of the moment.

"See yourself to the door," he snapped without looking up. "I am far too busy for this."

Vanessa bristled, but the question she had been chewing on would not die. "Why are you hiding her? Why didn't anyone know you were married?"

Eugene's pen paused mid-ink. "I told you I don't have time for-" He closed his mouth. His tone hardened. "Do not get on my nerves."

Vanessa rolled her eyes, mortified and furious by turns, and moved for the door. Eugene watched her go for a beat, then added, voice low and dangerous, "And Vanessa... if you breathe a word of this to mother or father, you will regret it. This is my business. Stay out of it."

She slammed the door behind her and the sound echoed like an accusation. For a long second Eugene simply sat, the pen slipping from his fingers as thought crowded in like a storm.

Nicolas cleared his throat as he entered, the interruption drawing Eugene's attention away from an ache he hadn't expected.

"Everything all right, sir?" Nicolas asked, eyeing the tightness in his boss's jaw.

Eugene rubbed his temple, then exhaled. "She's sick, supposedly."

"It's possible," Nicolas said evenly. "Given who's overseeing her care, it would be a miracle if she weren't unwell."

A bitter laugh escaped Eugene. "Do you think I should see her? Take her to a hospital?" He paused, tasting the memory of the last time... the slap like a red-flagged wound in his memory. "No. I don't think that's wise. Last time I tried to intervene she slapped me. Imagine that."

Nicolas's eyes flicked, curious.

Eugene looked into the distance, something like wonder and irritation wrestling behind his gaze.

"Vanessa can be childish. And yet-" he cut himself off, an inscrutable half-smile tugging the corner of his mouth. "She called Ivanna 'nice'... and 'beautiful.'"

He spoke the words slowly, testing them aloud. "Beauty alone should have made her marketable. So why did every man refuse? Why do the rumors say no one wanted her? It doesn't add up. Her family has wealth, she's astonishing to look at...there must be more."

Nicolas stepped closer, report folder in hand. "Sir, our background checks show contradictory signals. There are rumors she deliberately disguises herself, turns up on dates unrecognizable. Some sources suggest she pushes men away, others say she's uninterested in marriage. It's inconsistent."

Eugene's expression sharpened, curiosity flaring into strategy. He tapped the pen against the wood, thoughts moving like gears. "Perhaps she's deliberately repellent. Or waiting for someone. Perhaps a lover or something. Or... maybe there's something else we don't know. People hide the strangest truths. You know like lesbianism for instance?"

"Am not so sure of that." Nicolas answered truthfully.

He leaned forward, the decision settling like iron. "Okay then... I want everything on Ivanna.

Her social history. Past acquaintances, lovers, friends, every message, every invitation, every photograph. Check school records, social feeds, travel logs. Find every footstep she's taken for the last five years. Cross-reference everything. If she's hiding anything, I want it uncovered."

Nicolas inclined his head. "Right away, sir."

"And run it quietly," Eugene added, voice low and final. "No leaks. If this marriage is a problem, I will handle the consequences. If it's a puzzle... solve it."

Nicolas had barely reached the door when Eugene's voice stopped him again, low, uncertain, and unlike anything he'd heard from the prince.

"Nicolas... come here a moment."

Nicolas turned, wary. Eugene wasn't looking at him; he was staring at the floor, fingers clenched on the edge of the desk as though steadying something inside himself.

"Is it possible," Eugene began slowly, "that Lady Margaret might actually kill her? For real. Did I go too far involving... extreme methods? Because this entire conflict is between me and her parents. Maybe...maybe I shouldn't have dragged her into it. Should I just let her go?"

The question hung in the air, fragile and foreign coming from him.

Nicolas folded his hands behind his back. "Sir... according to the strategy drafted to handle the Sean family, Ivanna is our leverage. If Plan A fails, she becomes Plan B. The Sean family is not a group we can topple easily. We need something that forces their hand."

Eugene didn't move, so Nicolas pressed on.

"And besides... you said yourself you'd use her as a..." he cleared his throat, choosing the word carefully, "...distraction... you know, like a plaything, while we execute our main objectives."

"I said that?" Eugene's head snapped up, confusion...then disbelief...then discomfort flashing across his face.

"That doesn't sound like me." He rubbed his palm over his chest as though something there unnerved him.

"And besides... that girl doesn't look to me like someone anyone can toy with just like that. She is as stubborn as a goat. Even Lady Margaret hasn't broken her spirit, and Margaret breaks grown men."

He hesitated, expression tightening.

"She's just a girl, and yet... I can't figure it out."

Another pause. "I don't like how this feels. Putting her through pain..." He stopped, jaw tense. "It's making me restless. As if something in me is... revolting against it."

Nicolas blinked, this was new.

Eugene dragged a hand through his hair, restless. "You know I'm not a monster, Nicolas. What her parents did... what they cost me...it was unforgivable. I want them to experience the same helplessness. That is justice."

His voice softened, unexpectedly raw.

"But Ivanna... she's innocent. And she's also their softest spot. Hurting her hurts them. So my path should be clear... but..." He broke off and stood abruptly. "I don't know. I just don't know."

He took two steps forward but stopped again, conflicted.

"I think... I need to see her. Vanessa said she wasn't doing well. Maybe I should check."

Nicolas froze. Something clicked in his mind like falling dominoes.

"Sir..." he said cautiously, "forgive my boldness but... are you, by any chance... falling for Miss Ivanna?"

Eugene spun around so fast it startled even himself.

"Falling? Hell. No." His denial was loud, too loud. "How could you even say that? She is the daughter of the people who cost me the most PAIN! She is not my type. Not at all."

He flailed for logic, then added, almost angrily..."Yes, she is beautiful, obviously, but life is more than a pretty face and..." he swallowed, voice cracking for a fraction of a second, "...and maybe a nice body."

Nicolas's brow lifted. "It's only that you speak... differently when the topic concerns her."

"I DO NOT like her," Eugene snapped, color rising in his neck as he walked back to his seat and grabbed a document. "Daughter of my enemy? That's ridiculous. Leave."

Nicolas bowed slightly and exited, the door shutting softly behind him.

For a moment, the office was silent, heavy.

Then Eugene dropped the folder he'd been pretending to read. His posture crumpled ever so slightly, his expression twisting into a grimace, equal parts frustration, fear, and something dangerously close to... yearning.

He whispered to the empty room.

"What the hell was that?"

After Nicolas exit... Eugene sat a moment longer, alone with an unfamiliar thought: he was unexpectedly, uncomfortably invested. He pushed it away and rose, straightening his jacket, the mask of command sliding back into place.

Outside, the world went on, but in the castle, new investigations had already been set in motion.

Unexpected Turn of Events

The sun was merciless that afternoon, beating down on the estate courtyard with a heat that made the air shimmer. Yet Lady Margaret, broad-shouldered, stoic, and impossibly rigid, had chosen today to teach flower trimming.

Ivanna could barely see straight.

Her head felt heavy, her body weak, her vision dim around the edges.

But she forced herself to stand there, pretending to pay attention while Lady Margaret droned on.

"You had better focus," Lady Margaret snapped without looking up. "You'll be trimming the next hedge."

Ivanna's eye twitched. Of all days...

Just then, a low, sleek engine hummed across the compound.

An impossibly rare black sports car glided up to the fountain, one of the three limited edition models launched that year. Even Ivanna, who didn't care about cars, knew how unattainable that machine was.

She tried to ignore it.

Really, she did.

But when the driver's silhouette emerged, tall, composed, elegant.

Her heart stalled.

Eugene.

Her SUPPOSED husband.

The man she hadn't seen in what felt like a lifetime.

He stepped out of the car with the kind of presence books struggled to describe.

His fitted charcoal trousers elongated his long legs.

His overcoat framed his tall, straight figure as if it were tailored by the gods themselves.

A scarf draped loosely around his neck, giving him a quiet nobility.

His dark hair caught the sunlight, and his sunglasses concealed half a face too handsome for her peace of mind.

Ivanna stared.

Completely, hopelessly stared.

He didn't smile.

He didn't rush.

He simply stood beside the car, looking every inch the unreachable prince.

When his gaze flicked in her direction, he paused...

...but only for a second.

Then he started walking toward them with slow, effortless grace.

Lady Margaret immediately straightened, dropping the trimming scissors.

"You are welcome, my prince," she said, almost bowing.

"Mm." His tone was faint, polite but distant. "I hope you've been well, Lady Margaret?"

"Very well, my prince."

"Good. And... thank you for your hard work. I know I've troubled you."

"No trouble at all, my prince."

"If you say so."

He spoke to her gently. Respectfully.

Something Ivanna had never been given.

Then, with not even a flicker of acknowledgement in Ivanna's direction,

he walked right past her, heading toward the main building.

Ivanna blinked.

Didn't pause.

Didn't look at her.

Didn't even breathe in her direction.

Just brushed by her as if she were the wind.

Ivanna stood frozen, unsure how to feel.

This woman, this frightening, muscular dragon, bowed to him with absolute respect.

And he... had ignored her completely.

Normally, she would've exploded, screamed, cursed the heavens and everyone under it.

She should be angry, furious even.

But instead...

Why am I... happy to see him?

The thought was ridiculous, yet there it was.

She wanted to be angry.

She wanted her freedom.

She had every reason to hate this marriage.

But seeing him today, so calm, so breathtaking.

she suddenly wished none of the chaos between them had happened.

Perhaps, in another life...

she might have fallen for someone like him.

Still dazed, she nearly jumped when Margaret barked again.

"I said pay attention!"

Ivanna rolled her eyes boldly and walked off.

"Ah! Acting rude because the prince is around?" Margaret scoffed. "Do you think he'll save you? You'll be back, girl! And I'll double your workload, insolent child!"

Margaret's voice thundered behind her.

Ivanna didn't even spare her a glance and headed inside..

She had one mission:

Get rid of that woman, one way or another.

But as soon as she reached her room, her strength drained. A wave of exhaustion washed over her. Her forehead throbbed, her body felt heavy, and before she could form a coherent plan...

She collapsed onto her bed.

Sleep claimed her quicker than she realized, feverish, uneasy.

When Ivanna finally opened her eyes, the sky outside had dimmed. Evening.

Panic jolted through her.

She shot up, still dizzy, and hurried out the door.

She needed to see him.

She prayed he was still around.

She needed to know if he was still here, or if he had already left her behind without a second thought.

She didn't bother knocking when she reached his room.

She entered and shut the door behind her with a soft, determined thud.

She inhaled deeply, gathering courage.

The room was empty.

But it was... stunning.

Like a private gallery, elegant, spacious, masculine, refined.

She had been here once before, but then she was too angry to notice anything.

Now she took in every detail, her eyes widening in awe.

Then...

A soft click.

A door within the room opened.

Ivanna turned, breath catching in her throat.

Eugene stepped into view.

He froze.

So did she.

He was bare from the waist up, only a towel wrapped around his hips.

Water still clung to his skin, glistening over defined muscles.

His dark hair was damp, pieces sticking to his forehead.

A drop rolled down his jawline and disappeared beneath the towel.

He looked like a sculpture brought to life.

But his eyes, sharp, shocked, cold, locked onto hers.

Ivanna felt her entire body tighten.

She clenched her fists behind her back to steady herself, refusing to break eye contact no matter how her heart pounded.

Eugene's lips parted slightly.

His brows drew together.

There was something like confusion, or disbelief, flickering there.

And yet... neither of them moved.

The air between them grew heavy.

Quiet.

Electrified.

Eugene's brow lowered, expression tightening.

He was surprised.

And not pleased.

But Ivanna...

couldn't look away.

She had stepped into the lion's den.

And the lion had just walked out of the shower.

Eugene noticed the way Ivanna's almond-shaped eyes wandered, hesitant at first, then lingering.

He walked past her slowly, as though giving her enough time to look away if she truly wanted to. She didn't.

He reached the bed, took a fresh towel, and dragged it through his damp hair, each motion unhurried.

"Finished ogling?" he said without looking at her, his voice smooth and cool as silk.

He picked up his robe, letting it fall loosely over his shoulders before sitting on the edge of the bed, one leg bent casually, completely unbothered.

"You plan on standing there all night?" He tilted his head at her. "Or did you come here to hit me again?"

Ivanna rolled her eyes, swallowing the sharp retort that burned on her tongue.

Not today. She needed her wits.

Eugene studied her openly. The stubborn set of her chin, the exhaustion darkening her eyes, the slight weight she'd lost. She looked stressed... but still ethereal. Irresistibly so.

Finally, she spoke, soft, unsure, unlike her usual fiery self.

"Are you staying for the night?"

He raised a brow. "Why? Planning to keep me company?"

"Can you stop being annoying?"

"Oh, now I'm the annoying one? Who walked in without knocking, invading my privacy, and staring like it's a hobby?"

Ivanna scoffed. "You have no right to talk about privacy."

Then she added in a small voice.

"Eugene or whatever your name is called, I am not in the mood to argue," she added in a calm voice.

Eugene gave a low, amused hum. "Interesting. Looks like Lady Margaret's training worked."

"You call that training?" she hissed.

He shrugged. "You're calmer today. That's... progress. Credit goes to her."

Ivanna snapped but fought so hard to contain it, then decided to leave before escalating things. "You know what? I'm leaving."

She spun toward the door, but the moment her fingers touched the handle, a metallic click echoed through the room.

She froze.

Eugene, still lounging on the bed, had pressed a button beside him.

The door was locked.

"What are you doing?" she demanded.

He stretched lazily. "What does it look like?"

Ivanna pressed her palm flat against the locked door.

"Eugene," she snapped, "open this door."

From behind her, his voice floated lazily through the room.

"Why should I? You walked into my room on your own, didn't you?"

She clenched her teeth. "Don't get on my nerves."

He laughed softly, dangerously, then rose from the bed with slow, deliberate steps.

"And what exactly," he murmured, eyes glinting,

"would my little wife do if I did get on her nerves?"

He was provoking her, enjoying every second of her frustration.

Ivanna felt the heat rise in her chest, but instead of exploding, something inside her shifted.

Fine.

Two could play this game.

She turned around slowly, meeting his gaze head-on.

Then, before Eugene could predict her move, she stepped toward him,

closer...

closer,

until she was right beside him, then rising on her toes.

What she did next shocked him.

She KISSED him.

Bold.

Sudden.

Completely unanticipated.

Eugene froze for the briefest second.

A sharp shock ran through him...

a pulse of heat that spread from his lips to his entire body.

His hazel eyes darkened, narrowing at the audacity of her move.

He should push her away.

He should say something cutting, something cruel.

Except...

he didn't.

For some strange reasons...

He couldn't.

He noticed something immediately about her kiss.

It was clumsy, hesitant, inexperienced...

and that amused him more than it should have.

So that's your play, little wife?

His lips curved faintly.

If she wanted to provoke him, he would show her just how dangerous that game was.

His hand slid to her waist, pulling her in with a deliberate slowness that made her breath catch.

Then he tilted his head and captured her mouth with a kiss that erased every thought in her head.

Eugene pinned Ivanna's wrists above her head with one strong hand, rendering her helpless and at his mercy. Before she could even catch her breath, he claimed her mouth in another searing kiss that set her entire body aflame. His lips moved over hers with skillful precision, alternating between deep, dominating thrusts of his tongue and teasing nibbles that left her lips tingling.

It was deep...

sure...

commanding.

Absolutely...

Ivanna's knees nearly gave way.

The scorching heat of his mouth consumed her, melting away any semblance of coherent thought. Ivanna felt like she was drowning in sensation, her limbs growing weak and pliant as a tidal wave of desire crashed over her.

She suddenly finds herself arching into him, desperate for more contact, more of his intoxicating touch.

Eugene's other hand explored her body with brazen confidence, sliding under her shirt to map the contours of her waist and ribs.

Before she could catch her own breath, Eugene lifted her effortlessly and laid her on the bed. His grip on her wrists was firm but gentle, pinning them above her head, not to restrain her, but to keep her from running from what she had started.

"Still provoking me?" he murmured against her lips, his breath warm.

Ivanna's heart thudded violently.

She had meant to annoy him,

not ignite him.

His mouth met hers again, slower this time, more purposeful...

and all the fight inside her melted into something warm, dizzy, overwhelming.

Her body softened beneath him.

Her breath stuttered.

Heat pooled low in her stomach, unfamiliar and frightening.

Eugene felt it all.

And the look in his eyes changed,

from amusement

to something darker, deeper, devastatingly intense.

His fingers brushed her cheek, her jawline,

gentle, almost reverent.

The air between them thickened.

Her pulse hammered.

His lips trailed a whisper of a kiss at the corner of her mouth.

Then suddenly, Eugene's hands were everywhere, stripping away the barriers between them with single-minded focus. He peeled off her shirt, tossing it aside carelessly, before deftly unhooking her bra. Cool air hit her heated skin, puckering her nipples into tight peaks.

All the while, he devoured her mouth, swallowing her gasps and whimpers. His tongue plundered her depths, staking his claim, marking her as his. Ivanna writhed beneath him, overwhelmed by the onslaught of sensation.

Her struggles only seemed to inflame his passion.

As the initial fog of lust began to lift, Ivanna found herself suddenly lucid, realizing the dangerous position she was in. Panic surged through her veins and she started to struggle in earnest, twisting and bucking beneath Eugene's larger frame.

But at this point, it was too late, and Eugene, he was relentless, easily overpowering her weaker attempts at resistance. His mouth claimed hers again, kissing her with such skill and intensity that coherent thought scattered like leaves in the wind.

Ivanna felt herself growing dizzy, lightheaded, as if all the oxygen had been sucked from the room.

Before she could process what was happening, before she could scream or fight or flee, Eugene was already inside her. The sudden intrusion stole her breath, pain and pleasure intertwining in a dizzying spiral.

Ivanna cried out, the sound muffled against Eugene's mouth as he swallowed her protests.

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, both from the sting of penetration and the overwhelming emotions swirling inside her. She felt violated, used, utterly powerless against his strength.

Yet even as revulsion churned in her gut, her treacherous body responded to his touch. Sparks of unwanted pleasure radiated from where they were joined, her inner muscles fluttering around his invading length.

Shame burned hot on her cheeks as she realized how wet she'd become, how easily her body accepted him despite her mind's rebellion.

Eugene's thrusts remained deep but gentler now, hitting that secret spot inside her with maddening accuracy.

Pleasure built steadily, coiling tighter and tighter in her core with each drag of his cock against her sensitive walls.

Ivanna bit her lip hard enough to draw blood, torn between the urge to push him away and the traitorous need to pull him closer.

Her hips twitched, caught between fighting and meeting his thrusts.

Eugene felt the change in her, the subtle shift from resistance to reluctant acceptance. Encouraged, he increased the pace of his thrusts, each snap of his hips driving him deeper, harder.

The new angle allowed him to grind against her clit with every movement, sending jolts of electric pleasure shooting through her body.

"F#ck, you are damn tight," he groaned, his voice strained with the effort of holding back his own release. Sweat beaded on his brow as he focused intently on her reactions, tweaking and adjusting until he found the rhythm that made her toes curl.

Ivanna's breath came in short, sharp gasps, her chest heaving with each thrust. Despite herself, she could feel the coil of tension in her belly winding tighter and tighter, pushing her inexorably towards the edge.

And then...

the night closed around them, soft and consuming, as their world pulled together and disappeared behind a gentle, intimate darkness.

-Fade to black as they continued to make love-