Chapter 23
734 Words
Chapter 23: Too Close
The palace felt quieter that morning.
Too quiet.
Monica stood by the window, her fingers lightly resting against the glass as she stared out at the endless stretch of gardens.
Beautiful.
Controlled.
Distant.
Her phone sat untouched on the table behind her.
No new messages.
No missed calls.
But that didn’t mean anything felt settled.
Her thoughts drifted—
uninvited—
back to the night before.
The way he looked at her.
The way he spoke.
The way he—
Monica exhaled sharply, closing her eyes for a brief second.
“Stop,” she whispered to herself.
A knock came at the door.
She straightened slightly.
“Come in.”
The door opened.
But it wasn’t staff.
It was him.
Prince Alexander Montclair.
Monica turned slowly, her composure slipping just for a second before she caught it again.
“Your Highness.”
Alexander stepped inside, the door closing quietly behind him.
“You didn’t come down for breakfast,” he said.
“I wasn’t hungry.”
A pause.
His gaze lingered on her.
Not intrusive.
But… aware.
“You should eat,” he said calmly.
“I will,” she replied.
Silence settled between them.
But it wasn’t empty.
It was filled with something unspoken.
Something that hadn’t disappeared since last night.
Alexander took a step closer.
Monica didn’t move.
Her breath slowed—
but her pulse didn’t.
“You’re thinking too much,” he said quietly.
Her lips parted slightly. “Am I?”
“Yes.”
Another step.
Closer now.
“You don’t seem the type to hesitate,” he continued.
Monica met his eyes.
“And you don’t seem the type to wait.”
A faint shift crossed his expression.
Not denial.
Recognition.
“No,” he said.
The air between them changed.
Not tension alone.
Something deeper.
Heavier.
Monica felt it.
Every second of it.
She should step back.
She knew she should.
But she didn’t.
Alexander closed the remaining distance.
This time—
he didn’t pause.
His hand lifted, fingers brushing lightly along her jaw before settling just beneath her chin—
tilting her face up just enough.
“Then don’t hesitate,” he said softly.
And then—
he kissed her again.
This time—
it wasn’t controlled.
It was deeper.
More certain.
Monica’s breath caught—
but only for a second.
Because this time—
she didn’t freeze.
She responded.
Her fingers tightened slightly against his sleeve as she leaned into the kiss—
not resisting.
Not questioning.
Just… feeling it.
And that was the problem.
Because it felt—
right.
Too right.
His hand moved to her waist, steady, grounding, pulling her just slightly closer—
never forcing—
but not distant either.
The kiss lingered.
Unrushed.
Certain.
And somewhere in the middle of it—
a thought slipped through her mind.
Clear.
Unavoidable.
He’s a really good kisser…
The realization made her breath soften—
her grip tighten just slightly.
Because this—
wasn’t something she could dismiss anymore.
When they finally pulled apart—
the air felt heavier.
Monica’s chest rose and fell slowly.
Her thoughts scattered.
But one thing remained.
This wasn’t just pressure anymore.
It was something she could feel.
Something she was starting to respond to.
And that made everything more dangerous.
Alexander watched her quietly.
Studying.
Understanding more than she said.
“You’re adjusting,” he said.
Monica didn’t answer.
Because she didn’t know if that was true.
Or if she just wasn’t fighting hard enough.
He stepped back slightly.
Not distant.
Just enough to give her space.
“We’ll have a formal appearance soon,” he added calmly.
Reality snapped back.
Monica’s expression shifted slightly.
“Already?”
“Yes.”
No hesitation.
No delay.
Of course.
This wasn’t temporary.
Nothing here was.
Alexander turned toward the door.
Then paused.
“You should be ready,” he said.
And then he left.
Just like that.
Monica stood there.
Still.
Her fingers slowly lifting—
touching her lips.
As if confirming it had just happened.
Her heart was still racing.
Not from fear.
And that was the part she couldn’t ignore.
Because now—
it wasn’t just about being trapped.
It was about something far more complicated.
Something she wasn’t ready to name.
And somewhere beyond the palace walls—
Kian stared at his phone.
Still waiting.
Unaware—
that things had already begun to change.
- Writer
