Tempting the Crowned Heart

Chapter 3 The Failed Seduction

After the old king's abdication, the management of the royal estate was temporarily entrusted to the Duke of Montbatten, the eldest grandson.

Rumor had it that this Duke relied heavily on a capable assistant, someone through whom every matter—big or small—had to pass. That assistant, to Isabelle's dismay, was none other than her ex-boyfriend, William, now wielding considerable influence within the royal family.

William stood by the desk, his sharp gaze locking onto Isabelle's rigid expression. A sly smile curved his lips. "The prince is quite busy at the moment and doesn't have time to meet with you. As for me, I have ten minutes before my next task. In the meantime, why don't you tell me why you're here?"

Leaning in, his voice dropped into a low, dangerous murmur. "Unless, of course, you'd prefer the prince to find out about what happened in the elevator. In that case, feel free to ignore me. Otherwise, be a good girl, play along, and we'll see where this goes."

Straightening, William gestured toward the chair, his smile calm and composed. "Please, have a seat. I've prepared some pastries and coffee for you—I imagine that elevator incident must have been quite a fright."

His tone and demeanor were polished to perfection, exuding gentlemanly charm.

But the veiled threat beneath his words hit Isabelle like a stone shattering the surface of a tranquil lake. She froze, her mind racing as she caught the faint glint of mischief in his eyes.

With trembling hands and a pounding heart, Isabelle reluctantly sat down on the sofa, forcing herself to appear composed.

William, ever the picture of control, shut the door with a soft click and glanced at his watch. "You now have nine minutes, Isabelle," he said coldly." You know as well as I do—without my approval, you'll never see the prince."

She tried to steel herself, focusing on his face in a desperate attempt to decipher his thoughts. But his expression was a mask, revealing nothing.

Standing there, Isabelle felt like a ship tossed in a storm, waves of helplessness crashing over her. She had never imagined finding herself in such a humiliating and degrading position. Seduction was never part of her moral code, let alone attempting it with William, who now stood in a position of power over her.

Yet fate had forced her hand, leaving her no room to retreat. She had no choice but to move forward.

In the elevator earlier, she had caught the faintest hint of his reaction, one she tried not to dwell on. But she understood: her presence still stirred something in him.

'If pleasing him is the only way.'

The thought made her stomach churn with shame. Memories of their past intertwined with her current despair, but the crushing weight of her circumstances left her with no alternative.

Taking hesitant steps forward, Isabelle approached him.

Before she could say a word, William reached out and pulled her into his arms.

The sudden movement threw her off balance, and her coat slipped open as if by accident, the buttons undone by his subtle yet deliberate touch. In mere moments, her black lace lingerie and matching thong were exposed, her soft skin trembling slightly under the chilly air and his penetrating gaze.

"Does this satisfy you?" Isabelle's voice was barely above a whisper, her face burning red with humiliation. Her entire body quivered, both from the cold and the weight of her shame.

To steady herself, she raised her arms, her trembling fingers brushing the back of William's neck. Her chest pressed against him, and her voice cracked with desperation. "William... I know I hurt you before. I had my reasons, reasons I couldn't control. Please... forgive me."

William's dark eyes seemed bottomless, like an abyss that threatened to swallow her whole. His long fingers lifted her chin, forcing her to meet his piercing gaze. His lips curled into a mocking smile.

"Oh, so this is what it takes to seduce the royal powerholder? Dressing like this?"

He leaned closer, his breath warm and suffocating against her face. His arm encircled her waist, pulling her even tighter against him.

Isabelle's heart raced as she sensed the undeniable tension between them. Fear prickled her skin, but she forced herself to stay in character, to endure.

William smirked and slowly undid the clasp of her lingerie, his hands moving with deliberate precision. His touch was firm, kneading her softness as he murmured, "Does Edward, that pathetic excuse of a man, even know you've betrayed him? Oh, wait—I almost forgot. He's practically a corpse now, isn't he? You've been stuck in a loveless marriage for three years, and now you're throwing yourself at me?"

His hand slid to her waist, tightening like a vice. What now? Would he truly take things that far?

But just as Isabelle braced herself for the worst, William abruptly released her and stood, his expression colder than ice.

He towered over her, looking down with disdain. "What makes you think," he said slowly, his voice dripping with scorn, "that I'd ever touch a woman who betrayed me?"

The sudden shift left Isabelle stunned. She collapsed onto the floor, staring up at him in disbelief.

William adjusted his tie, his movements casual and unhurried. His gaze was distant, devoid of any emotion. "Your nine minutes are up. Please leave."

Isabelle tried to speak, "You—"

"Still here?" William cut her off, a cruel smile tugging at his lips. "Perhaps I should call the old king and let him know what the wife of the second prince has been up to in the first prince's assistant's office?"

His gaze flicked over her barely covered form, utterly void of desire.

Feeling like a complete fool, Isabelle scrambled to her feet, her face pale. "I'm leaving," she said, her voice trembling.

She forced herself to walk out with as much dignity as she could muster, even as her legs threatened to give out beneath her.

William watched her leave, his expression inscrutable. After a moment, he turned and stepped into the washroom.

The sound of running water soon echoed from within.

Meanwhile, Isabelle sat in the car, her head bowed, her body still shaking.

William had humiliated her on purpose.

The hatred in his eyes was clear—he wouldn't touch her again, let alone help her connect with the Duke. What was she supposed to do now?

*****

As soon as she entered the house, Evelyn stormed over. "How did it go?"

Isabelle couldn't bring herself to reveal her past entanglements with William, nor could she admit her failure. Forcing a neutral tone, she replied, "The Duke's assistant said he was in a meeting and asked me to come back another time."

Evelyn's face darkened instantly. "A meeting? That arrogant bastard is just toying with you!"

In her fury, Evelyn grabbed a glass of water and hurled it to the floor, the sound of shattering glass echoing in the room. Her eyes burned with venom.

"And you're a fool! If you can't see him at work, why not go to his house and corner him there? It's been two weeks, and you've done nothing! The old king only gave us three months! Are you planning to hand this opportunity over to the Crown Prince on a silver platter?"

Isabelle lowered her head, silently enduring Evelyn's tirade, her bitterness barely concealed.

What kind of feud existed between the Crown Prince and the second prince to provoke such venom?

"I understand. I'll try again tonight," Isabelle said softly.