Chapter 282
Chapter 282:
Make peace?
That didn’t sound like the Hayley I knew.
Still, I kept my cool. Slowly, I extended my hand and accepted her apology.
“Well, you are right.”
Hayley smiled, sealing our truce with a firm handshake. But even as she smiled, a voice in the back of my mind warned me not to take this at face value.
After our exchange, Hayley left with a satisfied smile. As soon as she was out of sight, Alice appeared beside me, arms crossed, squinting her eyes.
“What the hell is she up to?” she muttered, scrunching up her face suspiciously. “She made the first move to call a truce. There’s got to be more to this.”
I shook my head, glancing in the direction Hayley had gone, just as confused. “I have no idea, but there’s definitely a reason behind it,” I replied in a low voice.
The truth was, I didn’t trust Hayley one bit.
Alice’s frown deepened. “Makenna, watch your back. I wouldn’t be surprised if Molly did it on purpose… letting your father into the palace like that. Everyone knows things aren’t exactly peachy between you and your family right now.”
I nodded, my own sense of vigilance kicking in. After a brief rest, we piled back into the vehicle and continued our journey.
This time, the atmosphere was unusually tense. No one dared to whisper a word, let alone stir up any trouble. By the end of the day, we finally reached our destination: a grand manor nestled at the base of the mountain. This place was designed specifically for royal hunting events, with a strict hierarchy evident in its layout.
The king, of course, occupied the grand villa at the heart of the manor, while the elite had their pick of the luxurious villas flanking it. As for us? We were relegated to the outermost villas.
Sure, they weren’t as opulent as the ones at the center, but they were still more luxurious than my villa in the palace. Plus, the surroundings were beautiful and quiet—an oasis of calm after a long, tense day.
gαℓησν𝒆𝓁s․çоm, where stories thrive
Makenna’s POV:
After an exhausting day’s journey, Alice and I were utterly drained.
Dragging our feet, we trudged to the designated villa, retrieved our room keys, and longed for a good rest.
Just as I was about to turn away and retreat to the comfort of my room, a figure in the distance caught my eye.
The familiarity of that silhouette instantly set my nerves on edge.
Clayton? Could he really be here?
My heart skipped a beat in anticipation before I quickly masked it with a self-mocking smirk.
Of course, he would be here. After all, he was Prince Clayton, a man of importance at such events. But he had no interest in seeing me—that much was clear.
Disappointment etched itself onto my face as I prepared to walk away in silence. Yet, before I could move, another figure unexpectedly blocked my path, exuding the usual arrogance and disdain. Jessica? How could she be here too?
I frowned, my voice low as I asked, “Why are you here?”
Jessica’s lips curled into a smug smile, as if she had been lying in wait for this very moment.
She sauntered toward me, her chin held high, and said with a tone dripping with pride, “Frank is a Gamma, tasked with protecting the king. Naturally, as his wife, I am entitled to be here. Unlike you, who’s just a sex slave.”
.
.
.