Troubled past

CHAPTER ONE : THE TROUBLED PAST

A wonderful palace, an amazing home. Soft music plays while guests laugh and chatter, their glasses clinking with every toast.

And there I am, standing in the middle of everything, holding the arm of a gorgeous man every woman in this kingdom dreams of. My husband, Prince Alexander.

“Are you alright?” He said with his deep calm voice. His hand is placed on my lower back, grounding and steadying me.

I smile at him, though my heart pounds so hard I’m sure he can feel it. “Of course,” I whisper.

It’s a lie.

On the outside, I’m the perfect princess but inside, I’m falling apart. Every flicker of light reminds me of blood. Every burst of laughter echoes with a voice I’ve tried so hard to bury.

I glance around the ballroom, forcing myself to appear calm. Alexander is perfect as always, strong shoulders, sharp jaw, a quiet authority that makes the entire room gravitate toward him. His smile is genuine. Mine is a mask I’ve worn for three years.

I try to focus on him, but memories torment me . I see flashes of a man’s face, his eyes wide with shock, his head hitting the corner of a table. I see blood spreading across the floor.

I squeeze my fingers against the diamond bracelet on my wrist until it digs into my skin. Anything to keep myself present. Anything to stop myself from trembling.

“Shall we begin the toast, Your Highness?” one of the royal aides asks politely.

Alexander nods, taking a glass from the tray. “Yes. Thank you.” He raises it high, his voice was calm and strong. “Tonight, we celebrate not just the success of our charity foundation but the love and unity that hold our kingdom together.”

The guests cheer, glasses raised. Applause fills the room. I clap too, smiling, though my heart is tight with guilt. He deserves someone better than me, someone pure, not a woman hiding the darkest truth imaginable.

Because no one here knows I was married before. No one knows I killed him.

Or at least, I thought I did.

Later, when the ballroom is empty and the palace halls are quiet, I finally let my body relax. My bare feet sink into the soft carpet as I step out of my gown. The silk slips to the floor, pooling around me. I pull on a satin robe and glance at my reflection in the mirror.

I look like a queen. But all I see is a scared girl in hiding.

Alexander sits at his desk, reading documents. He glances up, his dark eyes softening as he looks at me. “You were incredible tonight.”

“You always say that.” I smile faintly, curling up on the bed.

“Because it’s true,” he says with a small grin. He puts his papers aside and comes to lie beside me, his strong arms pulling me close. For a while, I let myself sink into him, into his warmth, pretending I’m safe. Pretending I’m not a murderer.

But when he falls asleep, I lie awake, staring at the ceiling.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. The golden clock on the wall counts every second of my guilt.

My mind drags me back to that night years ago—the shouting, the tears, his rage. My fear. I see myself shoving him, hard enough to make him stumble. The sickening sound of his head cracking against the table. The blood is pooling on the floor.

I remember screaming his name, shaking him, begging him to wake up. But he didn’t. He didn’t move.

So I ran.

I packed a bag, disappeared, and never looked back. Later, I saw the news report: Daniel Miller, dead. My husband was gone.

I have lived with that guilt every day since. I buried it deep, even from Alexander. He thinks I’ve always been this elegant, graceful woman. He doesn’t know about the broken girl who fled in the middle of the night, her hands covered in blood.

I turn to look at him sleeping peacefully, his chest rising and falling steadily. He trusts me completely. If he ever finds out…

My throat tightens. I close my eyes, trying to shut out the memories.

Miles away, in a dark apartment, a man sits in front of a laptop, staring at my photo. His fingers trace the screen.

“So this is what you’ve been doing,” he whispers bitterly. His voice is deeper now, colder. There’s a long scar on his jaw—a scar I gave him that night.

Daniel Miller is alive.

And he’s coming for me.

He closes the laptop with a snap, his smile sharp and cruel. “You thought you got away, Elena. You thought you could kill me and build a new life. But you were wrong.”

He stands, slipping a black coat over his shoulders. “Now it’s my turn.”

The next morning, sunlight shines through the palace windows, waking me gently. Alexander is already gone; he always has early meetings. I stretch, but my body feels heavy from another sleepless night.

I wrap myself in a robe and walk through the quiet halls, my bare feet silent against the marble floors. The palace always feels like a dream in the mornings. It’s so peaceful, like nothing bad could ever happen here.

I step into the royal gardens, needing air. The roses are blooming, and the fountains sparkle under the sun. I walk slowly, breathing in the scent of lilies, trying to calm the storm in my chest.

I stop at the fountain, kneeling to dip my fingers into the cool water.

“You’re safe now,” I whisper to myself. “No one knows.”

But a shiver crawls up my spine.

At the edge of the garden, I see a shadow move. I freeze, my breath catching. “Hello?” My voice sounds too loud. There’s no reply. I squint, but the figure is gone. Probably just a guard, I tell myself, though unease lingers in my chest.

At lunch, Alexander notices my tension. We sit across from each other at the long dining table, sunlight streaming through the tall windows. He scrolls through his phone, brows furrowed.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“Nothing serious,” he says, setting the phone down. “The security team found some strange activity on the palace network. Someone’s been trying to access our records.”

My stomach tightens. “What does that mean?”

“Could be a hacker. They haven’t stolen anything yet, and I’m tightening security. Don’t worry.” He reaches across the table and takes my hand, his thumb brushing my skin gently. “You’re safe here, Elena. No one can hurt you.”

I force a smile. “I know.”

But I don’t believe it.

That evening, I retreat to my study, a small, cozy room lined with bookshelves. I sit by the window, staring out at the glowing palace grounds. The night air smells like roses. It should be comforting. Instead, I feel restless, trapped in my own thoughts.

I open a drawer and pull out a small photo, it was Daniel and I on our wedding day. My hands tremble as I stare at it. We were so young, so in love. I thought he would protect me forever. But love turned sour, and his temper grew darker with each passing day.

Tears drop down my face. I rest the photo on my chest, shaking. I’ve built a life with Alexander, a life filled with love and respect. But the past is a shadow that won’t let me go.

And tonight, I feel like someone is watching me.

In a dark alley across the city, Daniel hands an envelope to a man in a black suit.

“You know what to do,” he says coldly.

The man nods. “We’ll get inside. She won’t see it coming.”

Daniel’s lips twist into a cruel smile. “Good. I want her to feel what I felt. I want her perfect little life to burn.”

He pulls out a photograph of me in my wedding gown, Alexander kissing my hand. Daniel rips it in half, his voice low and venomous.

“Time to pay for what you did, Elena.”

That night, I curl up next to Alexander in bed. His steady breathing comforts me. I rest my head on his chest, mind racing.

For a moment, I almost believe I’m safe.

But deep down, I know something is coming. I can feel it. The shadows I’ve tried so hard to outrun are finally catching up to me.

And when they arrive, everything I love will be at risk.