THE FORGOTTEN PRINCESS IS NOW THE QUEEN

I had tolerated enough. “You’ve gone too far, Louis. Why are you doing this?” “You don’t have a say in my house, woman!” “This is our house, not just yours!” “Move.” He shoved me aside. My hip slammed against the floor with a dull thud, but the pain barely registered. It was nothing compared to the sight before me. Louis—the man who had once been my loving mate, the man who had sworn to cherish me—was dragging another woman toward our master bedroom. He was drunk, yet his grip around her waist was steady and protective, as if she were some precious treasure and I was the intruder. I sat there in stunned silence, tears slipping down my cheeks. I could hardly believe what I was seeing. The man who had promised to love me for the rest of his life, who had vowed never to cause me pain, was now hurting me in ways far worse than abandonment ever could. Slowly, I pulled myself to my feet and retreated to the guest room. Sleep was impossible. The betrayal cut too deeply, leaving my heart raw and aching. This wasn’t the first time I had caught Louis cheating, but this time he had crossed every line imaginable. He had brought another woman into our home—the home my parents had gifted me before they disowned me, all because of my foolish love for a man who had turned out to be nothing but a liar. The next morning, a loud pounding on the door jolted me awake. “Jade! Get up and make hangover soup for us!” At the sound of his voice, I sank back onto the bed and closed my eyes. I was exhausted—emotionally drained from the previous night’s humiliation and tears. He kept pounding, but I ignored him. I had already made my decision. I was leaving him. And this time, I finally had the proof I needed. I packed my clothes into a suitcase, tears streaming down my face. The pain inside me burned like fire, and my head throbbed from crying, but I couldn’t stay in that living hell any longer. It had only been a year since our wedding when my friends first warned me about Louis. They had caught him cheating, but I refused to believe them. He had been so loving, so attentive. I trusted him completely. They tried to tell me again and again, until eventually they gave up. Then one night, he came home drunk with a lipstick stain on his shirt. He claimed one of his subordinates had thrown herself at him, insisting he had rejected her. I wanted to believe him, and so I did, though doubt had already begun to take root. After that, whenever he went out late—whether for work or with friends—I had someone keep an eye on him. That was when I learned the truth. He had been cheating all along. This time, I even had photographs. But when I confronted him, he shouted at me... and slapped me. It was the first time anyone had ever laid a hand on me. And it would be the last. He deleted the evidence before I could use it, leaving me with nothing. But fate, it seemed, had decided to hand me the proof itself. The CCTV footage from last night was more than enough. When I stepped into the living room, Louis was already there, fully sober, sitting with his mistress. They were laughing, feeding each other as though nothing had happened. As though they hadn’t shattered my world only hours before. The moment they saw me, their expressions darkened with contempt. A strange restlessness stirred within me. My wolf, usually so quiet, was suddenly agitated. It was an unfamiliar feeling, and deeply unsettling. Without a word, I headed for the door. “And where do you think you’re going?” Louis demanded, his voice dripping with anger. I turned to face him, meeting his bloodshot glare without flinching. “I’m going home,” I said calmly. “Do you have a problem with that?” His mistress burst into laughter. She rose gracefully and sauntered toward me, her eyes glittering with malice. “Home?” she mocked. “Jade, do you even have a home anymore? Everyone knows your family disowned you. So tell me—where exactly are you planning to go?” She laughed again. I despised her—her arrogance, her cruelty—almost as much as I despised Louis. But I held myself back. Alone, I might have torn her apart. Yet with Louis beside her, and with my wolf dormant for so long, I knew I was at a disadvantage. Then her nails lengthened into sharp claws. Her smile turned vicious, and her eyes glowed. She was shifting. Just as she lunged, aiming for my stomach, I shoved her away with all the strength I could muster. It wasn’t a powerful push, but she seized the opportunity, throwing herself to the ground as though I had attacked her. Before I could react, Louis was on his feet. His claws slashed across my face. Pain exploded through me as warm blood streamed down my cheek. “How dare you touch Lucy!” he roared. “Do you even know who she is? She’s the precious daughter of the Harvard family. You could never afford the consequences of hurting her!” The fury in his voice was unmistakable, as was the disgust etched across his face. Yet when he helped Lucy to her feet, his expression softened instantly. His voice turned gentle—almost tender. A bitter laugh escaped me. He had never looked at me that way. Never spoken to me with such care. “She’s the real princess,” he sneered. “Not you. You’re nothing but a disgrace to your family. If you want to leave, then leave. Let’s see if the White family will even take you back.” Then he swept Maria into his arms and carried her to the bedroom. Oddly enough, I felt no fresh pain. He had already broken me in every way possible. I picked up my suitcase and walked out without another word. By the time I reached my car, the wound on my face had already begun to heal—a gift inherited from my grandparents. I drove away, heading straight for my parents’ house. And as the road stretched before me, I made myself a promise. Louis and Maria would not know peace. Not after what they had done to me. The pain they had inflicted, the hatred they had awakened—it would not fade, and it would not rest until they were brought to their knees.