Meanwhile...
Crash!
The loud sound of something being smashed on the floor echoed inside the room, which was filled with expensive, opulent furniture upholstered in gold and green velvet.
"You useless piece of trash! How could you have failed at such a simple task! A simple task like that! I thought you were capable of executing this mission, but it seems you are just as stupid and useless as the rest of them!"
A man wearing a white shirt and black slacks, with short black hair, dark eyes, a sharp nose, and plump lips turned up in a scowl, roared at two women sitting on a green velvet couch, clinging to each other.
The roar made them flinch and tighten their hold on one another. The man in front of them looked like a beast ready to tear them apart at any moment, and the thought made them shudder in fear, unwilling to provoke him further lest their nightmares come true.
"Urgh! I can't believe this!" the man growled, running a hand through his hair in deep frustration before spinning away with another roar. "You are so fucking useless!"
Just as he finished grumbling, an elderly man, with a striking resemblance to him, his dark hair now streaked with grey, strode into the room.
Heading straight for him, the older man grabbed him by the collar and landed a full-blown punch across his jaw, sending him crashing to the floor.The man groaned in pain before turning to glare at the older man, who stared back at him with equal fury. The younger man reached up to touch his split, bleeding lip.
"What the hell, Papa! What did you do that for!" he roared.
The older man growled in response. "To knock your bloody, beastly brain back into your senses, you unfilial brat! How dare you call your own sister useless and stupid! If anyone in this room is useless and stupid, it is none other than you!"
The younger man breathed heavily in pure rage after being humiliated by his father. His hands curled into tight fists against the floor, glaring furiously at the velvet carpet as if trying to burn it with his mind.
"It has been more than three years since that wife of yours was executed for her treacherous crimes. You promised us that you would use the power and assets she left behind to elevate our family, to bring our fief to unprecedented glory by seizing the vast wealth her fief yielded and dominated for years. You swore to make us prosperous and powerful, so that all those who once looked down on us would finally tremble in awe of our supreme authority within the Kingdom and the royal court. But what have you accomplished? Three years have passed, and still nothing! Absolutely nothing! You have brought back nothing of value, and we remain the laughingstock of the aristocracy. Worse yet, because of that wretched bitch you married, our family's reputation is being soiled at every turn! And instead of fixing it, you prove yourself to be an even bigger whore and asshole than she is! I am forced to cover up your endless scandals like a fool, desperately trying to curb your reckless behavior before you completely destroy our family... our legacy!" He paused, running a hand through his hair in sheer frustration. "I cannot believe that I am a father of such a senseless, useless son!"
"Ha!" The man on the floor snorted, wiping the trail of blood from his split lip with the back of his thumb. "Oh, so now I am the useless son, am I?"
He stood up, brushing himself off before facing his father. "As if... everything I have done to acquire all of this means nothing to you, Father!"
His father offered no reply, turning his gaze away in heavy silence.
"Is everything I did for you, for this family, for the immense power we now possess,worth nothing? The control over two of the kingdom's most powerful fiefs, mean absolutely nothing to you? Are you serious! Do you truly see me as nothing more than a pathetic fool? As if I did not get my hands dirty enough for you by getting rid of that—"
"Aaron Obadiah Dinkley, that is enough! You will respect your father and your sister, and I mean it!" The matriarch of the household rose abruptly from her seat, her voice echoing with command as she cut him off before he could finish.
She turned briefly to glance at her daughter, whose face was now etched with growing concern and dark suspicion. Both men shifted uncomfortably under her watchful stare, realizing how much had almost been slipped.
Duchess Catherine shook her head slightly before turning to her son with a stern gaze. "If you have nothing better to say, then I suggest you leave."
Aaron opened his mouth to retort, but—
"I said leave, Aaron!" His mother dismissed him sharply, her tone leaving no room for argument.
Aaron glared at her, then turned his venomous gaze toward his father, before huffing in frustration and stomping out of the room.
Duchess Catherine released a long breath of relief the moment the door clicked shut behind him.
She turned to look at Monica, who was still staring intently at the doorway, her face contorted with a storm of conflicting emotions.
Duchess Catherine exchanged a brief, quiet look with her husband before sitting back down on the couch, gently rubbing Monica's back to comfort her.
"Do not worry, honey. Your brother... he did not mean anything he said about you. He was simply upset about the failed mission, that is all. We all had high hopes that it would succeed, but..." She paused, swallowing hard against the lump in her throat. "We will try again next time..."
Monica snorted softly, turning to meet her mother's eyes. "Of course. And next time, be sure to come collect my corpse as a direct result of your 'brilliant' ideas."
"Monica..." Her father, Duke Andrew, growled, glaring sharply at her. "Watch your tone, young lady. You are speaking to your parents, so mind your manners."
"Oh, so I am just supposed to shut up and obey your every whim, even if it leads me straight to my death? Do you truly believe I am that docile and pathetic!" Monica retorted, her eyes blazing.
"Monica!" her mother warned sternly.
"What!" Monica whipped her head toward her mother, her tone laced with venom. "Tell me if what I am saying is not true, Mother! I mean, look at me!"
With a sharp jerk, she ripped away the silk shawl draped around her neck, exposing harsh red bruises marring her porcelain skin, a damning testament to how close she had come to being strangled to death.
"I nearly died in that room! At the hands of that beast!" she roared, causing both of her parents to flinch in visible shock.
"How am I supposed to explain this to the bridal selection committee? Or worse... how will I explain myself to the Crown Prince when he comes to interact with me!" Tears of frustration welled in her eyes.
"Tell me! It is not as if it is winter or autumn where I can walk around wrapped in shawls or scarves all day, these marks are not going to just fade anytime soon!"
Duchess Catherine offered her a nervous, soothing smile before replying. "Do not worry, dear. We will find you one of the finest dermatologists in the kingdom to treat your neck. You will be healed in no time. Trust me."
"No, I will not!" Monica retorted, rising sharply from her seat. "And let me tell you something! I am done with this! Do you hear me? I am done! From now on, I am doing things my way! If I am going to be crowned, I will earn that crown fair and square through my own efforts, not through this madness! Do not ever speak of these stupid schemes to me again, because I am not your puppet!"
With those scathing words, she turned on her heel and stomped out of the room.
"Monica! Monica, come back here! Monica!" Duchess Catherine called after her, but her pleas fell on deaf ears.
She huffed in frustration as she sank back into the plush velvet couch before turning to look at her husband.
"Our children are getting more out of control! At this rate, everything will fall apart before our plans even begin!"
Duke Andrew let out a heavy sigh, walking over to the room's mini-bar. "Well, it was your stupid idea that dragged us into this mess in the first place." He paused, pouring himself a glass of scotch and taking a slow sip before continuing. "If anyone is to blame for all of this, Catherine, it is you and no one else."
"Oh, spare me the lecture, Andy. Let me remind you that you also supported this stupid idea just as eagerly because it worked in the past with the former queen. Besides, we all want a swift victory so we can seize the Scorpion King's power and influence to become the most powerful sovereigns in the world," Duchess Catherine said, an evil smirk spreading across her face. "It has taken far too much effort to reach where we are today, and I have no intention of remaining a puppet to anyone. Especially that lowly dretch Slovak."
"Mmm..." Duke Andrew hummed thoughtfully after taking another sip of his liquor. "Need I remind you, Cathy, that, that 'dretch' was the exact man who helped us eliminate that old fool Merrut to take over this fief, not to mention Sinclair. We would not be standing here enjoying this vast wealth and glory without him. So watch your tongue, my dear. Otherwise, things will turn exceedingly ugly for us long before we ever taste the crown."
"Oh, don't be such a coward, Andrew," Duchess Catherine said, strolling slowly toward the Duke. "If you hadn't decided to indulge yourself between the legs of Sinclair's wretched bitch of a second wife, that whore Miranda, and get caught by Sinclair himself, you would never have needed to beg that wretched Slovak for help to eliminate him. Among other things..." She whispered the final words as she wrapped her arms lazily around his shoulders.
"If you weren't such a shameless man-whore just like your son, we would have been free from Slovak's leash a long time ago. But as usual, you simply cannot keep it in your pants, can you? So you had better redeem yourself by helping our daughter secure that crown... or else..."
She gently patted his shoulders, pretending to brush invisible dust off his lapel before continuing smoothly. "You should count yourself fortunate that Montana is dead. Otherwise, Slovak truly would have put an end to you by now if he ever uncovered your secret schemes behind his back. But eliminating one loose end does not mean others do not exist. So you had better stay fully committed to this, because I have no intention of becoming a widow just yet. Understood, darling?"
She gently lifted his face with a slender finger beneath his chin before planting a fleeting kiss on his lips. "Now, go and rein in that beastly son of ours before he causes a scene. I am heading back to Flower Manor to see how the events unfolded, since I had to make an excuse to have Monica forfeit from the task due to a sudden illness. Good thing the old wretches didn't make it hard for me by asking many unnecessary questions otherwise it would've been a problem. So chaó."
With those final words, she turned on her heel and swept out of the room.
Duke Andrew snickered beneath his breath, muttering, "Stupid bitch."
He cursed softly before taking another slow sip of his scotch. Setting the glass down on the polished table, he pulled out his phone and dialed a secret number.
"I am coming to the warehouse tonight. Make sure everything is prepared for transportation, and I do not want any mistakes, got it?"
A brief, low reply came from the other side.
"Good," he said, before ending the call. He downed the last drops of his liquor, set the empty glass back on the bar, and strode out of the room.
....
Meanwhile, at the town square...
The atmosphere was vibrant and buzzing with energy. People bustled about like busy bees, strolling, trading, and perusing market stalls stacked high with goods.
Laughter and the lively cadence of street music echoed through the air, filling the open square with warmth and cheer.
Well... to everyone except the couple dressed in matching casual outfits, who were lackadaisically strolling down the cobbled street.
To any bystander, they appeared to be a picture-perfect couple enjoying a romantic afternoon walk through the market. But reality was far from the truth.
If decorum permitted, they would have been miles apart from each other by now, each minding their own business. But they were being trailed by hawks, eyes trained on them, ready to carry reports of any misstep back to the old hags at Flower Manor. That was a risk neither could afford.
Especially after what had transpired between them the previous night, distance felt like their only sanctuary. The stifling awkwardness between them hung heavier than the blistering summer heat, scorching and impossible to ignore.
And both knew the tension would not break until they finally allowed each other room to breathe.
But that was going to be impossible. At least for now.
"You should at least pretend to be enjoying yourself, Lady Ariel. Otherwise, people will think I am forcing you into my company. I am the beast of the kingdom, after all. What is forcing an innocent soul to keep me company for my pleasure?" Daniel scoffed softly, his eyes fixed on the path ahead.
Ariel looked at him, at his calm, expressionless face.
'Why the hell is he so calm? As if what happened last night doesn't affect him at all! Ha! He truly is the absolute king of all perverts,' she mused to herself, fuming internally. 'Well, if this isn't pure torture, then what is? Those damn old hags... ugh... damn them to hell.'
She took a deep, steadying breath before replying in a honey-sweet voice. "My apologies, Your Highness, if my silence has caused you discomfort or led to a misunderstanding. I assure you, I meant no offense. I am not uncomfortable in your presence at all. On the contrary..."
Leaning in close, she slipped her arm smoothly through his, linking them tightly before whispering, "I actually prefer to stay very close to you. After all... there are no more secrets between us when it comes to intimacy, right?"
Cough! Cough!
Daniel choked on his own saliva at her bold statement, the tips of his ears and cheeks flushing a deep beet red.
Ariel smirked mischievously, preening internally. 'Got you, didn't I? Hmph! You thought you could act stone-cold about our encounter last night? Looks like it got under your skin after all. And I am going to use every bit of it to show you hell! Hmph! You grumpy old hare!'
Daniel shifted his gaze down to her, catching the faint, triumphant smirk curving her lips.
'Ha! Bold Flamingo... you did that on purpose,' he mused, a dangerous amusement taking root. 'But you forgot that I live by a single rule: no one, absolutely no one, is bolder than me. If you think you have already won, then allow me to show you who the true champion of this game is. So do not blame me for whatever happens next.'
Daniel's lips curled into a lazy smirk. Without warning, he wrapped a firm hand around Ariel's waist, pulling her flush against him, and planted a soft, lingering kiss against her cheek.
Ariel stared at him with wide, shock-filled eyes. That was a bold move she never in a million years expected him to make.
And here she was, thinking she had finally gained the upper hand over the grumpy old pervert! But the king of perverts truly lived up to his name, proving in an instant that he could be far bolder than she had ever anticipated
.
Unbelievable.
Her heart hammered against her ribs, and time seemed to slow to a crawl as she lost herself in those golden, honeydew eyes.
They shone like sun-soaked pearls, searing straight through her skin and deep into her very soul.
Though it had been nothing more than a fleeting kiss on the cheek, it burned like an inferno, threatening to consume her whole.
Instantly, vivid memories of the previous night came flooding back to her.
The radiating warmth of his skin. The intoxicating touch of his chiseled, godlike abs, the very ones her hands had been so helpless to resist.
Subconsciously, her gaze drifted down to his broad torso, tracing the outlines of the muscles that had haunted her thoughts, remembering how firm and cut they felt every time her fingers squeezed...
She quickly tore her eyes away, a wave of heat rushing to her cheeks as she tried to pull back, but his arm anchored her tight against his side. He held his grip, refusing to let her retreat.
Ariel shot him a sharp, questioning look.
Before she could process it, Daniel leaned in closer, his voice low and smooth. "Why are you looking at me like that, Lady Ariel? Isn't this what you wanted, to get close to me? After all..." He tilted his head until his warm breath grazed the tip of her nose, whispering, "...there are no secrets between us when it comes to intimacy, right? So I am going to stay close... very close... so close that I will not let you out of my sight for a single second until you are satisfied." He let out a low, amused hum.
"Mmm... tsk... bold Flamingo. But I am bolder."
He finally released her waist, glancing toward a quaint café nearby. "Why don't we get some milkshakes to cool down this heat for now, my lady? Because I can assure you... it is only going to get hotter." He flashed her a slow, devastating wink before turning toward the café entrance, leaving Ariel standing frozen in utter bewilderment.
"Huh? Did he just... did he really just..." Ariel's mouth hung open before she let out a quiet, furious huff. "Argh! Unbelievable! The absolute nerve of that man!" She growled under her breath, glaring at his retreating back as he casually strolled inside.
"So that is how you want to play, huh, Your Highness? Fine! You want to play? Then let us play, Crown Prince Daniel Maxwell Devonte! We will see who emerges victorious in this game, and it definitely will not be you! Hmph!" She declared in frustration, marching toward the café entrance, when her phone suddenly buzzed with an incoming message.
She pulled it out, her eyes locking onto the glowing words on her screen:
'Dinkley is on the move. He will be at the warehouse tonight. What are our orders?'
Ariel let out a quiet sigh as her eyes drifted to Daniel, who was seated comfortably by the window inside the café. She sighed once more before typing out a swift response:
'I am currently in a bit of a pickle, so I cannot meet with the informant just yet. Tell the Phantom Spiders to keep a close eye on him. Dinkley must be hiding something significant in that warehouse. Tonight, our only priority is to observe and gather intelligence. I will contact you the moment I break free to meet the informant.'
She pressed send, slipping the phone back into her pocket.
An immediate reply flashed across her screen:
'Copy that, Boss.'
She read the confirmation, deleted the text thread, and looked through the glass at Daniel, who was sitting nonchalantly at the café table.
Ariel let out a soft sigh, shaking her head as she murmured beneath her breath, "Now how on earth am I going to slip away from this beastly hound without exposing my cover? Ugh, this is going to get complicated..."
With a firm shake of her head to clear her mind, she pushed open the door and stepped inside the café.