HIS PRINCESS

CHAPTER 15

Viola leaned over and nudged her shoulder. “Then don’t let this be your end. This whole thing—it’s just temporary.”

Kiara nodded. “Thanks for not judging me.”

Viola got up. “Always. Now go take a shower before I start crying and hugging you like we’re in a bad drama.”

Kiara rolled her eyes but smiled.

Viola was already on the phone. “And I’m ordering peppered chicken. You’re not leaving me to finish the wings alone.”

---

The room fell quiet after Viola placed the food order. Kiara moved toward the bathroom, gathering her thoughts with each step. Inside, she peeled off her clothes slowly and stepped under the warm water. She let it run over her skin longer than she needed, eyes closed, mind blank.

After the shower, she tied the towel around her and returned to the room. Viola was already curled up on one side of the bed, scrolling through her phone with her charger trailing off the nightstand.

“Your skin’s glowing,” Viola said without looking up. “I swear, nervous girls always have the best post-shower skin.”

Kiara snorted and climbed into the other side of the bed. “It’s probably the fear.”

They laughed quietly, the kind that doesn’t echo, just sits between two people who understand each other.

A soft knock came. Room service.

Viola opened the door, signed the receipt, and rolled in the cart. She unpacked two trays and handed one to Kiara.

“Eat something,” she said. “You’ve been on edge all day.”

Kiara sat slowly, peeled back the foil. The smell hit instantly—peppered chicken, jasmine rice, and fries. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was until then.

She took a bite, chewed quietly. “Smells like home.”

Viola nodded. “Exactly why I ordered it.”

They ate in silence, the city humming outside their window.

When the plates were pushed aside and the drinks half-finished, Viola pulled her legs up and hugged her knees.

“I didn’t tell you earlier,” she said. “I hacked Ariana’s phone.”

Kiara raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t panic. I didn’t mess anything up. I just sent her a cancellation message using Sebastian's mobile number and deleted the reply she sent to Sebastian, that's all.”

Kiara swallowed hard. “You really did all that?”

Viola looked at her. “Did you think I wasn’t going to cover you?”

Kiara didn’t speak for a while. When she did, her voice was soft. “I just wish I wasn’t doing this behind her back.”

Viola reached over and touched her arm lightly. “She's going to be fine, trust me.”

---

The next morning came with soft light creeping through the blinds. They dressed simply and left the room quietly. Viola had tipped the security guard at the dorm the day before. He’d promised the dorm monitor wouldn’t say anything. It wasn’t a school day, so no one would be doing roll-calls.

The hallway felt calm. As they turned the corner near the elevators, Viola slowed.

Kiara glanced up—and froze.

Sebastian was standing by the lounge area, looking fresh in a dark blazer. Beside him stood a woman in a wrinkled dress and smudged makeup. Her heels dangled from her hand. Her lipstick was faded, and her earrings didn’t match. Her hair was pulled into a messy bun, the kind that didn’t start messy.

Kiara blinked. “That’s Giana Morgan.”

Viola’s jaw tightened. “Of course it is.”

Giana was a fast-rising actress. Her face had started popping up everywhere. Talk shows. Red carpets. Blockbuster movie casting roles. Sebastian, on the other hand, was no stranger to being linked with actresses—and A-list businesswomen. It was what people knew him for.

The sight of them together didn’t need an explanation.

Kiara said nothing.

Viola stepped toward the elevator. “Disgusting.” She muttered.

They rode down without speaking.

At the restaurant, they picked a quiet table near the windows. Viola was unusually quiet as she scanned the menu.

“You would’ve allowed me,” she said finally. “I offered you some money even though it wasn’t enough.”

Kiara nodded slowly. “I know. But your mum froze your account. You’re only spending what you saved.”

Viola looked up. “Still. You should’ve accepted it.”

“I couldn’t take it,” Kiara replied. “It didn’t feel right.”

Viola didn’t argue. She signaled the waiter and placed their order without another word.

---

Ariana paced her apartment, the worn floorboards creaking beneath her bare feet. Khalid’s cold rejection echoed in her mind, tangled up with the steady beep of her grandfather’s heart monitor from the hospital the day before. Desperation clung to her like a damp cloth.

Her fingers hovered over her phone screen, then tapped on a contact saved as simply _J_. She pressed call.

A low voice answered on the third ring. "Yes?"

"I need it tonight," she said, her voice quiet and firm. "Same type."

"Location?"

She gave her address. The call ended without another word.

---

Less than an hour later, a plain envelope slid under her door. Inside were two small pills in unmarked foil and a tiny vial of clear liquid. She stared at them for a moment, then began to move.

Ariana pulled on a worn cotton dress—slightly frayed at the hem, soft from too many washes. It wasn’t seductive. It was the kind of thing someone wore when they didn’t expect to be seen. She didn’t add makeup. She tugged at her hair until it was uneven, slapped her cheeks until they turned blotchy, and splashed cold water on her face.

In the mirror, she studied the girl staring back. Pale. Tired. Vulnerable. Exactly what she needed.

She took one of the pills dry. It would make her limbs feel heavier, her voice slower. She tucked the vial into her pocket.

Her phone pinged. A text from the same number:

Hilton Arc. Suite 1109. Side entrance. Code: 6740.

Her breath caught. 6740. Madame Flora’s birthday.

---

The Hilton Arc sat like a quiet wallflower among the city’s tallest and most luxurious hotels. Its charm was privacy, not glamor. Ariana entered through the side, passed the empty concierge desk, and slipped into the elevator. She keyed in the access code. The light blinked green.

The elevator opened straight into a muted lounge—quiet carpets, dark furniture, untouched minibar. She moved toward the bedroom. It was neat, sheets crisp and corners sharp. She shook the bottle slightly, the liquid catching the light.

She uncapped it and poured a few drops near the pillow, where the scent would linger strongest. The sharp, chemical tang stung her nose. She left the second pill on the nightstand, then crushed it partially under her shoe.

She sat by the bed, knees pulled up, and waited. Her heart pounded so loudly she thought the walls might hear it.

---

The door opened.

Khalid stepped in and froze. His eyes, sharp and unreadable, flicked over the bed, the floor, then landed on her. The tension in the room shifted.

He didn’t move closer. "What is this?"

Ariana lifted her head, eyes watering. "You don’t remember?"

His expression stayed blank.

She pointed to the crushed pill. "You made me take that. You said I had to prove myself if I wanted your attention."

Khalid’s face was unreadable. He took a single step forward. "Get out."

Ariana flinched but didn’t move. "I recorded parts of what happened," she said, pulling out her phone. Her thumb hovered over a screen. "Not everything, but enough."

His eyes narrowed. She kept her voice steady.

"You’re going to marry me, like your grandmother asked. You’re going to make sure my grandfather gets that surgery. You’re going to help clear my father’s name. Or this… goes out to everyone who matters."

The room fell into a cold silence.

Khalid moved closer to her, then knelt on one knee. Not out of kindness. Just to meet her eyes.

He snatched the phone from her hand and glanced at it. His face didn’t change.

Then, calmly, he let the phone drop. It hit the floor with a clatter.

"Don't let me set my eyes on you again." He said as he stood up, posture straight, his voice icy.