Crowned by Fate

Chapter Eight – A Royal Secret at Risk

The newsroom of The Aurelia Times buzzed with its usual chaos, ringing telephones, hurried footsteps, and the clatter of keyboards that filled the air with urgency. Yet in the midst of it all, Olivia Grant sat at her desk, her eyes narrowed, her pen tapping against a manila folder.

Olivia wasn’t just any journalist. She was the kind of reporter who smelled secrets like a bloodhound and refused to let them go until she had the whole carcass laid bare. At thirty-five, with dark hair always pulled into a practical bun and glasses perched on her nose, she had earned the reputation of being relentless. Politicians despised her, corporations feared her, and now… the royal family had landed squarely in her crosshairs.

Her latest lead was buried in medical records, a trail most people would overlook, but Olivia knew better. Fertility clinics, she had once told a colleague, were where society’s deepest secrets hid. People went in anonymously, desperately, leaving behind not just hope but paper trails. Paper trails that could ruin lives.

She flipped open the folder. Inside was a copy of records from Aurelia Private Fertility Institute, the most discreet clinic in the capital. She had been digging into them for a story about corruption in healthcare funding, but then one file caught her eye. A flagged donor, listed only as Laurent, A.

Olivia’s lips curled into a smile. “Laurent,” she murmured. “Well, well.”

The Laurents were Aurelia’s ruling family. And an “A.” Laurent… it could only mean someone from within the palace itself.

The records were partial, redacted in places, but she had seen enough: a donation flagged for confidentiality, sealed tighter than anything else in the clinic’s archives. That level of secrecy was rare. Suspicious. Dangerous.

She tapped the folder again, her mind racing. If she was right, this could mean the future heir to the throne had left behind something much more intimate than a signature.

Meanwhile, inside the gilded palace walls, Alexander Laurent had no idea the trap fate was already weaving around him.

He sat alone in his study, fingers pressed against his temple as he stared at documents that blurred before his eyes. Marriage proposals, potential alliances, and lists of noble daughters were all thrust at him by his parents. His chest felt constricted, his thoughts drifting not to politics but to two laughing boys he had never held.

A knock interrupted his brooding. “Enter.”

The door opened to reveal his aide, Charles, carrying a slim portfolio. “Your Highness,” Charles said with a bow, “I’ve brought the press briefings for tomorrow’s engagement.”

Alexander accepted the folder distractedly. “Anything of importance?”

Charles hesitated. “There is one matter. Rumors that The Aurelia Times is working on… a sensitive story.”

Alexander’s head lifted sharply. “What kind of story?”

Charles shifted uneasily. “Something to do with the medical sector. I do not have details, but… it seems to involve a private fertility institute.”

Alexander froze, his breath caught in his throat. Fertility Institute. The words sliced through him like a blade. He forced his tone to remain calm. “And this concerns me how?”

“I cannot say yet, sire. But the paper has a reputation for digging where others fear to tread. If they are investigating matters of bloodlines… it could be unfortunate.”

Unfortunate. The word barely contained the storm churning inside him. Alexander dismissed Charles quickly, his mind spinning. Could it be? Could someone have stumbled onto the records?

He had chosen that clinic for its iron-clad discretion, for its promise of secrecy that even kings would envy. Yet now, the very thing he had buried was threatening to claw its way back into the light.

And if it did, the world would know about Ethan and Ellais before he could even reach them himself.

Back in her modest apartment, Olivia Grant poured herself a cup of black coffee as the evening light streamed through the windows. She spread out her research across her kitchen table: files, notes, photographs, and strings of connections marked in red pen.

Her instincts told her she was standing at the edge of something monumental. Royal scandals weren’t new; the Laurents had endured centuries of whispers about affairs, betrayals, and illegitimate children. But this was different. This wasn’t a mistress tucked into shadows. This was science. Paperwork. Records that couldn’t be denied.

She imagined the headline already:

“A Prince’s Secret Child: The Hidden Legacy of the Laurent Heir.”

Her pulse quickened. If she cracked this, her career would explode.

But she also knew the risks. Going against the crown wasn’t just about libel suits—it was about danger. Careers had been destroyed, reputations annihilated, sometimes even lives ruined. Still, Olivia was not one to turn back.

She leaned back in her chair, staring at the name again: Laurent, A. Could it be Prince Alexander himself? The timing matched. The dates aligned almost too perfectly.

But there was another detail in the file that intrigued two children listed as born to that donor. Twins.

Twins tied to the crown.

Olivia’s pen stilled. “If this is true…” she whispered, “then the entire line of succession could be questioned.”

At the palace, Alexander paced his study like a man trapped. Every instinct screamed at him to take control before the press could. If the journalist unearthed the truth, it wouldn’t just be a scandal; it would be chaos.

The monarchy thrived on image, on perfection. A hidden sperm donation? Secret heirs born outside of marriage? His parents would see it as betrayal. Damien would weaponize it. Isabella… Isabella would understand, perhaps, but she alone could not shield him.

No. He needed to know who was digging and how close they were.

He strode to his desk, picking up the secure phone. “Get me intelligence,” he ordered curtly. “On The Aurelia Times. Every reporter, every story they’re chasing. I want names. Now.”

His aides scrambled. Alexander exhaled, running a hand through his hair. He had faced hostile foreign leaders, military crises, political coups, but nothing terrified him like the thought of Ethan and Ellais being dragged into the public eye unprepared.

They were innocent. And Amara had built them a life free of royal shadows. If the truth came out this way, it would destroy her. Destroy them all.

Across the city, Olivia clicked her recorder on, her voice calm but sharp as she dictated notes. “Next step: cross-reference births from the clinic with hospital records. Track any mothers during that period. Look for anonymity, sealed records, unusual confidentiality.”

Her eyes scanned her wall of evidence. There were gaps she needed to fill, pieces of the puzzle still missing. But every trail pointed back to one conclusion: someone in the Laurent family had left more than duty in their wake.

Her phone buzzed. A message from an anonymous source she’d contacted earlier. Meet me. Midnight. Old River Café. I know about the Laurents.

Olivia’s heart kicked in her chest. This was it. The lead that could break everything open.

She grabbed her coat, slipping the folder into her bag. The air outside was brisk, the city alive with lights, but all she felt was the electric thrill of being on the cusp of truth.

She had no idea that eyes already followed her from the shadow palace security, dispatched by Alexander himself.

Because in Aurelia, secrets were currency. And some secrets were guarded with blood.

For the first time in years, Alexander felt the walls of his carefully constructed world beginning to tremble.

A single journalist. A handful of medical records. And suddenly, the fate of his children and the throne itself hung by a thread.

He stared out at the night sky, fists clenched, as if he could will fate itself to stop. But fate, as he knew too well, never asked permission.

It only demanded payment.