Juniper wasn't the least bit surprised when she had walked into the restaurant minutes ago and found Dylan already waiting. The man was punctual, patient, thoughtful, charming with words, and often exhibited the disposition of a true gentleman. On the surface, anyone would deem him the perfect partner. . . the epitome of every woman's fantasy. . . yadda yadda yadda. But she knew him well. She was well-acquainted with the cunning and manipulative demon he skillfully concealed behind his polished, gentlemanly exterior. "So how has Forêt-Bleue been treating you since you arrived?" Dylan asked sweetly. Juniper's lips morphed into a smile as her shoulders lifted in a subtle shrug. "Hmm, so far, so good," she said casually. Then, her smile waned, her eyes narrowing as she added with comical seriousness, "But certainly not good living in the Royal Palace. Let me tell you this. . . Living in the Royal Palace is not as rosy as it appears to be. It's like a beautiful prison wit
"It's been four months, Dad! Four months since we began to search for my son! Why haven't you found him yet?!" Chloe yelled in outrage the moment she stepped into her father's study. From the look on her father's face, he didn't seem to be in a good mood himself, but Chloe did not care. All she wanted was her son. Her son with Prince Cedric. She was tired of seeing Juniper getting closer and closer to Prince Cedric, using Hector as an excuse. She didn't want to admit it, but she could feel the Crown Prince slowly slipping away from her grasp and if only their son was around, he wouldn't be spending so much time with that slut and that bratty little imp of hers. But here her father was, being so. . . so incompetent with such a simple task. Which was very unlike him. Incompetence was never a word to describe her father. So why did he choose now of all times to do this to her? "Can you be a little bit patient?" Antoine drawled in a sigh. "I'm doing everything
It was nearly dinner time when Juniper's phone rang and Dylan's name glared on the caller ID. She received the call and singsonged in a tone dripping with honey, "Hi, Supermodel! What's up?!" "Hey, Juni baby! Guess what? I'm back in Forêt-Bleue," Dylan's voice came through from the other end of the phone. "Oh, really? When did you arrive?" She asked swiftly. "Just this morning," he responded, the tone of his voice giving out his undeniable excitement. "We have a lot of catching up to do. I'm so excited. I want to celebrate. Can we meet for a drink?" Juniper switched the phone to her other ear, nodding in agreement. "Sure. Why not?" "Great. I'll send you the location." It took quite a while, but eventually, Juniper found herself at the hotel bar where Dylan was waiting for her. The moment he saw her, he squeezed her in a suffocating embrace. "Oh my God, Juni. It's so nice to see you again." Taken aback, Juniper laughed awkwardly, patting his back softly.
"Hey, time to go, miss," an officer announced, tapping the bars of Juniper's holding cell with his baton. "Your friend has posted your bail." Gradually, Juniper climbed to her feet, her movements lethargic, as the officer unlocked the cell door and swung it open, gesturing for her to exit. All her life, she'd never caused any trouble that landed her behind bars. In fact, she'd avoided being in this kind of situation like the plague. But here she was. . . behind the bars, throughout the night, for an asshole's sake. So why the hell was she smiling, so fulfilled, like a lunatic? She followed the officer to a nearby cubicle to collect her belongings, then proceeded to the front desk where Camille was waiting, her face blazing with a deep shade of red—FURIOUS as hell. Undeterred, Juniper's grin didn't fade from her face, even for a second, as she approached Camille with a playful swagger. "Good morning, Camille," she chimed, fluttering her fingers in a cheeky, taunting wave.
Juniper laughed maniacally as she stared down at Dylan's limp body on the living room floor. "Wow, Camille was right," she said, her eyes scanning between her fingers where she had hidden the sedative patch. "This stuff does work like magic." She turned her attention back to Dylan who was currently on a cab to Slumberland, exhaled, and knelt beside him. Juniper tsked, shaking her head in disappointment. "Oh, Dylan," she drawled barely above a whisper. "I thought you'd have at least ten percent wisdom within you but it turns out that you're hundred percent controlled by your dick and nothing more." She reached inside her handbag and slipped out another sedative patch from the paper bag Camille had given her earlier. Gingerly, she separated the patch from its protective wrap and applied it on the other side of his neck. She needed as much time as possible to fully accomplish her task here. She straightened on her feet, staring down at him. "Don't worry, D
A week had passed, but the memory of that kiss still lingered, refusing to be extinguished. As Cedric rode back to the Presidential hotel, fresh from the Inter-Regional Summit, he couldn't help but thank the good Lord that he had navigated the high-stakes meeting without a single misstep, despite his mind being utterly clouded by the enchanting woman who had left an indelible mark on his thoughts. Ever since that day, he tried to keep away from her and avoided being in secluded places with her. One thing he couldn't afford was rekindling what they once shared. He didn't deserve her. Juniper deserved someone who could protect her and he knew more than anyone else that person wasn't him. Chloe Clermont was his punishment for being such a coward and he was going to bear every bit of it till the end. The soft voice of his assistant, Marcel, crackled through the intercom, pulling him out of his turbulent thoughts. "We've arrived, Your Majesty." He'd been s
FORÊT-BLEUE WAS IN TOTAL CHAOS!!! Scandalous photos of Juniper and Cedric's intimate kiss in the Parisian hotel suite surfaced out of nowhere, sending shockwaves throughout the kingdom. And to make matters even worse. . . the details of their past relationship were also revealed, spreading like wildfire and drawing the attention of the entire region. The media was in a frenzy and their once-private moments were now nothing but public fodder. The public's reaction was merciless, with vicious insults hurled at them. However, the brunt of the insults was way worse on the Crown Prince's side. He was labeled all sorts of names—philanderer, serial cheater, deceiver, unfaithful, dishonest. . . the list goes on and on and on. And Juniper wasn't the least bit surprised or anxious, because. . . it was her plan after all. A smug smile overcame Juniper's features as she lounged on her bed, scrolling through the online comments that brutally criticized her and Cedric. She
"What is the meaning of this, Cedric?" Queen Catherine exclaimed, her voice stern and demanding, as she swept into Cedric's bedroom. "How could you permit yourself to become embroiled in such a situation?" Cedric breathed heavily, almost out of frustration. His day was already challenging enough. He'd just gotten back from a difficult meeting with the Royal House PR team, and the last thing he needed was his mother's added pressure. "I have everything under control, Mother. Please, do not concern yourself." "I foresaw this. . . I knew it was a terrible idea permitting that woman into the Royal Palace, or even close to you," Queen Catherine retorted, her tone inundated with disdain. "She's nothing but trouble. That she managed to track you down in Paris and thrust herself upon you is utterly unacceptable. Perhaps it is about time for me to impart a measure of discipline and decorum." All of a sudden, Cedric's hands paused in the process of pulling off his winter jacket
Camille's mind could barely focus on the road as she drove towards the location the investigator had sent her— Dr. Philippe's current address. It had taken several months of diligent searching, but finally, the doctor who had conducted the autopsy on Vivienne's body was found, living in a small, secluded village on the outskirts of Forêt-bleue. It had been so not an easy task to find the man. Apart from the fact he tended to relocate to a different location every three months, he had changed every single thing about himself. . . down to his identity. Camille was both relieved and anxious. Relieved that they were finally blessed with an opportunity to figure out Vivienne's actual cause of death. But then again, she was filled with anxiety that meeting Dr. Philippe may turn out to be a futile attempt, considering the man had done everything in his power to stay hidden from the world. But whatever the outcome, she was not leaving this village without the truth.
Camille never imagined Damien would kiss her, but what was even more unbelievable was the fact she was making no attempt to push him away. His lips were so soft and warm. They felt like plushies as they pushed pleasantly against hers. She knew she should stop him before things got out of hand, but his long fingers were already driving through her raven hair, cupping the back of her head, and nudging her closer to him. How exactly could she resist? And then, the kiss deepened. Warmth spread throughout her body like wildfire. The chilly wind about them now felt like hot steam as it awoke every dormant sense in her body. Her treacherous mind had always presumed he was to be a good kisser, but nothing prepared her for this level of perfection. There were no tongues, no sense of urgency, just needy lips against needy lips, yet he managed to make her heart— which had been stone-cold for quite a long while— do a couple of acrobatic stunts within her ribcage. She wa
The entire Island was vibrating with loud music and celebration. This was supposed to be the night Damien would never forget, but why was he not feeling the mood? He still couldn't believe it. CAMILLE WAS JEROME'S EX? How small exactly could this world be? He downed another glass of wine at a go. He couldn't tell if it was his fifth or sixth. Not that it mattered, because all his attention was fixated on Camille and Jerome who were chatting and laughing at the grill stand. He didn't appreciate how "chained to the hip" they'd been throughout the day. She'd always pushed him away even when he'd maintained a ten-meter distance from her, yet there she was perfectly at ease with Jerome's close affection. And why the hell did Jerome keep calling her "Cammie"? And why was she not saying anything about it? Damien's face grew dark as he watched Jerome gently remove something from Camille's hair. His eyes narrowed, and his jaw tightened. He wasn't sure if his percepti
Camille was sleeping in for the first time in forever when the insistent buzzing of her cell phone rudely interrupted her leisurely morning. Without seeing the name flashing on the screen, she knew who exactly was ringing. Who else would call her at this time on a Sunday morning but the man who thought he had the right to do pretty much whatever he wanted? Drowsily, she reached for the annoying device on her nightstand, wondering what the hell he was up to this time. "Hello, Damien," she answered the call, her tone filled with grudges. "C–Camille?" instantly, her senses went on high alert, every indication of sleep leaving her body when she heard the strain in his voice. He sounded. . . weird. Like he was in pain or something worse. "Damien?" Camille's voice took a sudden note of urgency. "Is something wrong?" "Attacked," he mumbled. "Attacked?" She sat up in the bed, her heart thundering against her chest as she heard the unmistakable twist of pain
"So, what does that have to do with me?" Juniper asked, genuinely curious. "For the past year, I've been investigating Antoine and everyone connected to him," Jerome answered solemnly. "That's how I found you. Your relationship with him and his family seemed. . . unusual. You got involved with them through your surrogacy, then vanished for two years without a word. Now, you're back, and it seems you're working against them. I don't believe that's just a coincidence." Juniper scoffed inaudibly, crossing her arms over her chest. "I must say, you've done your research quite thoroughly," she said, a hint of sarcasm creeping into her voice. "So, is that why you've been tailing me all this while?" Jerome's face scrunched up in an expression of confusion. "All this while?" He repeated slowly. "I only started tailing you today." "Huh?" Juniper breathed, confusion apparent on her face as her thought traveled back to the past few days. Camille faced her. "Has anyone els
Juniper paced restlessly in the hall of Camille's house, murmuring to herself. "What are we going to do? What have I gotten us into?" But nothing eased her anxiety than seeing Camille burst through the front door. "Oh, Camille! Thank God you're finally here." "What is it? What's wrong?" Camille asked snappily, her eyes searching the other woman's face. Juniper noticed the slight bruises and scratches on her face and neck, not to mention the large ruddy stain on her shirt, but there were more pressing matters. Besides, if she looked this much of a mess, her opponent must be resting in a morgue at the moment. "HIM!" she replied tersely, her finger pointing directly at the problem at hand. A horrified expression took over Camille's face as her gaze followed Juniper's gesture to the lifeless man on the floor. His wrists and ankles were tightly bound with duct tape, and a crumpled grocery bag covered his head, obscuring his face. "Did you kill him?" she asked hesitantly, h
Camille let loose a heavy sigh when her phone rang, revealing her annoying boss' ID on its screen. "Hey, I need your help," Damien's voice poured from the other end as soon as she answered the call. "What do you want this time?" Camille drawled grudgingly. "Meet in front of your house, I'll give you the deets. I'm waiting." "How do you—" And he hung up. Truth to his words, Damien's sleek sports car sat outside her gate, its polished lines gleaming in the light. And there he was, leaning nonchalantly against the driver's side door, looking all gorgeous in a tan, woolly turtleneck sweater paired with light blue ripped jeans and tan shin-length boots. In addition, a luxurious beige fur coat draped elegantly over his shoulder, complimenting his casual ensemble and accentuating his handsome features. As soon as he noticed her, Damien flashed her a million-dollar smile and took off his designer sunshade, revealing his ever-glowing jade eyes. "Hey, you," he si
It was quite a hassle to have a one-on-one conversation with the Queen due to the New Year's Feast yesterday, but now that the festivity craziness was gradually blowing over, Juniper got her chance. Juniper gave the lady-in-waiting a polite nod as soon as she permitted her to proceed into the Queen's Study. A meaningful smile took over her chocolate-tinted lips as she strode into the glamorous working space of Forêt-Bleue's monarchess. "Good evening, Your Majesty," Juniper said with a respectful bow before settling into the seat in front of her. Her gaze hovered around, taking in the splendor of the grand room. "I'm truly humbled to be granted this rare audience. I must have saved a nation in my past life. To be frank, I half-expected my request to be denied," she added with a soft chuckle, her fingers splaying across her chest. "It's really an honor to be in the presence of the Queen of Forêt-Bleue herself." Without her lifting her gaze from the documents before her,
Camille swiftly jerked her hand back, not because his head was burning like hot coals, but to escape the traitorous surge of "Mama Hen" tendencies that surfaced and made her go all soft around vulnerable people. She DID NOT want to feel that way around this complicated man. He was already dangerous enough hale and hearty, she didn't want to find out how much more dangerous he could get with that fragile expression plastered on his pretty face. "What did I say about boundaries, Damien?" She complained, her tone taking on its usual coldness. Ignoring her dismissive tone, Damien coughed raspily, cleared his stuffy nose into the napkin in his hand, and whined weakly, "I don't know what's wrong with me. I usually never get sick. I always take good care of my health." He scowled at her in feigned annoyance. "Maybe it's because I've been spending too much time with a certain frosty companion." "Or maybe because you thought it was cute to keep swimming in the wint