CHAPTER 4

CLARK’S POV

She looked completely shocked. Honestly, if it had been real, she probably would have fainted after seeing two thousand views appear within seconds.

Her eyes were already clouded with tears as she blinked repeatedly, trying to stop them from falling.

“Clark, how could you do this to me?” she asked. “What good has any of this done?”

She looked devastated.

“Relax. I didn’t post it publicly,” I said.

She stared at me in confusion.

“What do you mean? Are you still playing with my emotions?” she asked as she sat down, looking frustrated, and placed the penknife back on the table.

Now that was annoying.

One thing I hated was being doubted when I was actually telling the truth.

“Look, Aurora, I don’t have time for arguments. The photo wasn’t posted on my main account. It was posted on the fake account I used to keep an eye on you, and that account only has my main account connected to it.”

She stared at me for a moment.

“What about the picture? Someone could still see it if it’s online.”

“It’s set to private. Only I can see it. I’ll delete it and the account right now.”

She finally released a sigh of relief.

Only then did I realize how close we were standing.

For a second, I found myself studying her face.

That wasn’t right.

She was supposed to be my enemy.

“Move already,” I said abruptly, stepping away.

Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

“I… I’m sorry,” she said quietly.

I scoffed and stood up.

“I think I’ve stayed here long enough.”

“You were never invited in the first place,” she replied. “You came uninvited, and you really need to leave before Fiona comes back.”

She practically pushed me toward the door.

“Hey, be careful with my clothes,” I complained.

“Just get out!” she snapped.

A moment later, the gate slammed shut behind me.

That girl was unbelievable.

I got into my black Range Rover and drove away from the estate.

The drive home was peaceful until my phone beeped.

It was Sage, asking me to meet him at Whites Club.

I wasn’t interested.

Normally, I would have gone without hesitation, but today I just wanted to be alone.

For some reason, Aurora kept crossing my mind.

I got home, took a shower, and changed into a pair of shorts and a white singlet.

As I looked around my room, I noticed it was still untidy.

What had the staff been doing all day?

I went downstairs and found one of the cleaners sitting comfortably on the couch watching television.

“Why is my room still a mess?” I asked sharply.

The girl immediately stood up.

“I’m sorry, sir. I’ll clean it right away.”

“Make sure you do.”

She hurried upstairs.

I sat down and tried to relax, but Aurora’s face kept appearing in my thoughts.

Why was I still thinking about her?

I switched on a sports channel, hoping to distract myself.

Suddenly, the front door opened.

Mia walked in looking furious.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

“You should be asking how you’re going to take responsibility,” she replied.

I frowned.

“What are you talking about?”

She crossed her arms.

“I’m pregnant.”

I stared at her.

“What?”

“I’m serious.”

Before I could answer, I noticed one of the younger cooks standing nearby, listening.

“Go back to work,” I ordered.

The cook immediately disappeared.

I turned back to Mia.

“Do you have proof?”

She handed me a document.

I looked through it and quickly noticed several inconsistencies.

“Mia, this isn’t real.”

Her expression changed.

“Security!”

Two guards appeared instantly.

“Please escort her outside.”

“Yes, sir.”

They led her away despite her protests.

“You’ll regret this!” she shouted as she was taken out.

The moment the front door closed, another car pulled into the driveway.

My mother had returned.

That was earlier than expected.

I quickly walked over and hugged her.

As much as she worried about me, I had missed her.

**

AURORA’S POV

The next morning, Fiona woke me unusually early.

Considering everything that had happened, I couldn’t understand why.

“Aurora, get dressed and pack your things,” Fiona said. “I want you downstairs in thirty minutes.”

She turned to leave.

“Where am I going?” I asked.

“To your new home. The person is already here.”

My heart sank.

“Fiona, you only told me about this yesterday. You’re seriously expecting me to leave today?”

Tears blurred my vision.

“You don’t have a choice. Get ready.”

Then she walked out.

This was really happening.

I dressed slowly and packed my belongings.

Every step downstairs felt heavier than the last.

When I finally entered the living room, I froze.

My eyes widened in shock.

Sitting elegantly on the sofa was Queen Marguerite.

The Queen of England was in my house.