CHAPTER 1 — THE MAN ON THE THRONE IS MY HUSBAND
The first time I saw my husband in two years, I was carrying a tray of steaming Earl Grey for the Crown Prince of Eldoria.
I stepped through the double doors of the Grand Hall, shoes silent on the polished marble, eyes lowered like every new palace maid was trained. Two hundred aristocrats in diamonds and military uniforms filled the room, but the air itself seemed to bow toward the raised throne.
I lifted the tray higher, took three steps, and finally looked up.
The world stopped spinning.
Alessandro.
My Alessandro, the man who kissed me under a streetlamp and promised me forever, sat on that throne in the crimson sash of royalty. The royal crest glinted on his chest. Cameras flashed. The entire country's most powerful people knelt or curtsied around him.
He was the Crown Prince.
He was the CEO whose face was on the cover of Forbes last month.
And he was the husband who disappeared the morning after our secret wedding, leaving only a note that said Trust me.
My hands shook so hard the teacups rattled like bones.
Then the tray slipped.
Porcelain shattered in a deafening crash. Boiling tea splashed across the priceless carpet and my ankles. A collective gasp sucked the oxygen from the hall.
Every head turned.
Including his.
Across fifty feet of marble and betrayal, his gray eyes locked on mine.
For one impossible second, I saw it, panic, pain, recognition. His fingers tightened on the armrests until his knuckles went white.
Then the mask slammed down. His expression turned to bored stone.
A minister beside the throne sneered, loud enough for the microphones to catch. "Who hired this incompetent girl? Get her out."
Whispers erupted like wildfire.
"Clumsy commoner."
"Security breach."
"Fire her on the spot."
I couldn't breathe. My vision tunneled to only him.
He lifted one elegant brow, voice cold and royal. "Clean the mess and remove her. I don't have time for theatrics."
He didn't even say my name.
The man who once moaned it like a prayer looked through me like I was nothing.
Something inside my chest cracked wide open.
I ran.
Heels clacking, tears already blinding me, I shoved past guards and bolted down the east corridor. Past gilded mirrors that showed a stupid girl in a maid's uniform with mascara running black rivers down her face.
I didn't stop until I reached a deserted service hallway lined with ancient tapestries. There I slid down the wall, knees to chest, and let the sobs tear out of me.
He lied about everything.
His name. His job. His life.
He let me think he was just a soldier on leave.
He let me believe he was dead, or kidnapped, or that I simply hadn't been enough to stay for.
Two years of eating instant noodles so I could pay rent on the tiny apartment we picked out together.
Two years of wearing our wedding ring on a chain against my heart because I couldn't bear to take it off.
And the whole time he was here, ruling a kingdom, dating supermodels, signing billion-dollar deals.
Heavy, hurried footsteps pounded behind me.
I didn't turn. I couldn't.
Expensive leather shoes stopped inches from mine.
I felt him before I saw him, heat, fury, that familiar cedar-and-storm scent that still haunted my dreams.
Slowly, I looked up.
Alessandro towered over me, jacket gone, white shirt sleeves shoved to the elbows, hair messy like he'd raked his hands through it. The perfect prince was gone. This was the man who used to wake me with kisses at 3 a.m. just because he missed me.
His chest rose and fell hard. Veins stood out on his forearms.
He crouched, bringing us eye level, and the corridor suddenly felt too small for both our heartbreak.
His voice came out hoarse, almost broken.
"…Why are you here, Lia?"
The way he said my name, soft, desperate, pleading, almost destroyed me all over again.
I laughed, wet and ugly. "Why am I here? I got a job, Alessandro. A normal person thing. Meanwhile you've been playing king and forgetting your wife even existed."
His hand lifted, trembling, like he wanted to touch my cheek but was terrified I'd shatter. Or he would.
"I never forgot," he rasped. "Not for one second. I stayed away to protect—"
"Protect me?" I shot to my feet, forcing him to rise with me. "You left me with nothing! No note, no call, no money. I thought you were dead!"
His jaw clenched. "If the court ever found out I married a commoner—"
"So you erased me." My voice cracked. "You looked at me in there like I was trash."
Agony flashed in his eyes. He stepped forward until my back hit the wall and his palms landed on either side of my head, caging me in.
"I looked at you like that to keep you alive," he growled, low and lethal. "There are people in that room who would have you killed by tonight if they knew you were my wife."
My heart stuttered.
He leaned closer, forehead almost touching mine, breath ragged against my lips.
"I have spent two years moving heaven and earth to keep you safe from them. And now you're inside the palace walls." His thumb brushed the chain at my throat, finding the ring hidden beneath my collar. His eyes darkened with possession and torment. "Wearing my ring where anyone could see."
Boots echoed at the far end of the corridor, guards calling my name, getting closer.
Alessandro's fingers tightened around the ring, knuckles white.
"Listen to me," he whispered urgently. "Whatever happens next, you do not know me. You never met me. Or I swear I'll watch this entire kingdom burn before I let them take you from me again."
The guards rounded the corner.
He stepped back into the shadows just as they seized my arms.
But I still felt his gaze on my back, burning like a brand.
And the ring against my heart suddenly felt heavier than any crown.