All Chapters of By Chance, By Fate: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

61AlexThe next morning, I woke up feeling like someone had stuffed lead into my chest. The weight of last night's argument with my father pressed down on me like a physical force, suffocating and relentless. The anxiety that had become a constant presence gnawed at my insides, clawing at me, making it feel like my chest was caving in. The charity gala was hours away, but the thought of it made me want to crawl into a hole and hide. There was no escaping it. No way to avoid the role I had to play. I had to wear the mask. Pretend everything was fine. By the time the sun dipped below the horizon, I was dressed in a tailored black tuxedo that felt more like a straitjacket than formal wear. I adjusted my tie in the mirror, but the reflection staring back at me was unrecognizable. The rigid posture. The forced smile. I could feel it all, the way it clung to me like a second skin. A mask I had worn for so long that I didn’t even know what my real face looked like anymore. “Let’s get th

63AlexThe media didn’t hold back. By the next morning, every tabloid and news outlet had splashed my face across their covers with screaming headlines. "President’s Son Caught in Scandal! Fiancee Charlotte Betrayed!" and "A Love Triangle at the Heart of the First Family?" were just the tame ones. The articles were full of fabricated nonsense about how Charlotte had walked in on me in bed with another woman. The lies were relentless, painting me as a faithless, entitled playboy.I sat in the study, gripping my coffee mug so tightly I thought it might shatter. My jaw clenched as I skimmed the articles, each word another punch to the gut. This wasn’t just an attack on me—it was an attack on my family, my reputation, and everything I’d worked to protect. The door burst open, and Elena stormed in, her face flushed with fury. She slammed a crumpled newspaper onto the desk in front of me. “Have you seen this garbage?” she spat, her voice shaking. I leaned back, running a hand over

65Alex Sleep was a luxury I couldn’t afford. I lay in bed, my thoughts a tangled mess, replaying the night’s confrontation with my father and the chilling events that led to it. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Liam—bleeding, crumpled in that alley, his lifeless eyes burning into my soul. Despite Elena’s insistence that he was fine, a gnawing worry clawed at me. What if she was wrong? What if something happened to him, and no one wanted to tell me?I grabbed my phone from the nightstand, scrolling to Liam’s contact. My thumb hesitated over the call button, my mind racing. What if he doesn’t pick up? What if something’s happened, and I’m the last to know?Pushing the doubts aside, I hit the button and held the phone to my ear. “The number you have dialed is not available. Please leave a message after the beep.”The robotic voice grated on my nerves, and I cursed under my breath. It was the same as before, straight to voicemail. “Liam, it’s me. Look, I know we haven’t spoken

67LiamThe brisk chill of the Norwegian winter filtered into my room, even though the thick curtains were drawn tight against the windows. I leaned back on the enormous bed, its ornate posts stretching toward the high ceiling of my room in the royal palace. Weeks had passed since the summit, but the ache in my side was a persistent reminder of the bullet I’d taken for Alex. Mom, ever the image of a queen, had ensured I was taken care of in the most extravagant way possible. Two nurses hovered around me daily, tending to my wound as if I were made of glass. This morning was no exception. They flitted about, adjusting bandages, checking my vitals, and murmuring politely before finally leaving me in peace. The door clicked shut behind them, and I exhaled deeply, letting the silence wrap around me. But the peace didn’t last long. “Honestly, Liam, I don’t know what you were thinking,” my mother said as she swept into the room, her elegant heels clicking against the marble floor. She

69LiamVictor’s arrival felt like the spark that would ignite an explosion, and it did not take long for the firestorm to begin. The icy tension in the room grew thicker as my mother’s face turned from shock to pure rage. Anders was no better, his jaw clenched so tightly it seemed his teeth might crack. Meanwhile, Victor—my father—stood there with the same calm defiance, as though he had already prepared for this battle long before stepping into the palace. “Guards!” my mother barked, her voice cutting through the heavy silence like a whip. “Remove this man from my sight immediately!” Victor didn’t flinch. He stood tall, his dark eyes unwavering. “I wouldn’t do that, Lila,” he said quietly. “Not unless you want your son to hate you even more than he already does.” I stiffened at his words, though I couldn’t deny the truth in them. Anders stepped forward, his voice laced with venom. “You have no right to speak to her like that, FATHER,” he spat, the title dripping with sarcas