The General's Daughter: The Mission

The auction had ended long ago. The last paddle had fallen, the final bid had been called, and the crowd had long since drifted away.

Yet Aquilo remained where he stood in the vast banquet hall, now stripped of its lively chatter and reduced to an unsettling silence. The grand chandeliers still bathed the room in warm golden light, but to him, the warmth had long since faded.

His thoughts refused to leave that single moment.

He could still see Ares fastening the necklace around Lara’s neck before sliding the ring onto her finger. The memory replayed with cruel clarity. There was nothing hesitant about Ares’ touch, nothing uncertain in his gaze. He looked at her as though the rest of the world had ceased to exist.

As though she already belonged to him.

And Lara...

She looked up at Ares with a tenderness Aquilo had never seen in her before.

Her eyes softened, their usual caution melting into quiet warmth. There was complete trust in that gaze, but it was more than trust. It was the silent certainty of a woman who had found the one person with whom she could lower every guard without fear.

Ares had returned that look with the same unwavering devotion.

No words passed between them.

None were needed.

The way his fingers lingered ever so briefly against her hand... the way she instinctively leaned toward him... the way their eyes held one another as though the rest of the ballroom had dissolved into nothingness—it was a language only hearts deeply in love could understand.

For that fleeting moment, time itself seemed to stand still.

The music faded. The applause disappeared. The world beyond them simply ceased to exist.

There were only two people beneath the glow of the chandeliers.

Ares and Lara.

Watching them together, Aquilo felt as though he was witnessing two halves of the same soul finding each other at last after a lifetime of searching.

Not even fate, with all its cruel twists and endless trials, had been able to keep them apart.

It only delayed the inevitable.

A perfect match.

The realization settled over him with a crushing weight.

His shoulders sagged beneath a burden he could no longer carry. A slow, weary sigh escaped his lips as he turned away from the now-empty hall. Each step toward the exit felt heavier than the last.

Lara was no longer his to protect.

He just wished she could still think of him as the big brother who once taught her to drive and had accompanied her when she was still training.

...

Anton Trillo was in a foul mood.

Everything he had meticulously planned for the auction had unraveled before his eyes.

The priceless heirlooms he intended to acquire had all been driven to astronomical prices by the billionaires in attendance. One after another, the treasures slipped through his fingers until only two remained within his reach.

The first was a ruby pendant suspended from a delicate silver chain—the very necklace Lara worry during Althea’s coming-of-age celebration.

The second was an exquisite jade bracelet, a treasured gift bestowed upon Lara by the Emperor of the Eastern Kingdom.

It was a pitiful consolation.

The bathroom door clicked open.

Valerie Harton emerged in a sheer silk nightgown that left little to the imagination, its hem ending well above her knees. Resting against her chest was the ruby pendant, its crimson gemstone catching the warm glow of the room and shimmering like a drop of blood.

She was the same woman who had accompanied Anton to the auction—a rising starlet whose recent casting as the female lead in He Gave Up the Crown for Me had made her one of the industry’s newest sensations.

A knowing smile curved her lips as she sauntered toward him, her hips swaying with practiced confidence.

”Why so gloomy, darling?” she purred, slipping her arms around his shoulders. ”You still managed to bring home a prize.”

Her fingers traced lazily across his chest as she teased him with soft laughter and whispered promises, determined to chase away the dark cloud hanging over him.

For a fleeting moment, Anton allowed himself to be distracted.

But the humiliation of the auction, the sting of defeat, and the fury simmering beneath his composed exterior refused to fade.

Instead, he poured every ounce of that pent-up frustration into Valerie, who soon realized she had awakened more than she intended. Before long, her playful confidence gave way to breathless pleas as she begged him to stop.

Anton finally pulled away, but the fire inside him remained far from extinguished.

He had lost far too much that night.

And someone would eventually have to pay for it.

...

Sleep eluded Erina Ramuz.

She lay on an opulent four-poster bed crafted from black walnut, its intricately carved posts gleaming beneath layers of hand-polished mahogany. Delicate tulipwood panels framed the bed, while an elegantly hand-painted cornice crowned it like a royal canopy.

Rich velvet drapes cascaded from each post, enclosing her in a chamber fit for nobility.

She had chosen this suite for one reason alone.

Every detail had been designed to resemble the bedchamber of an Azuverdan princess.

Surrounded by antique furnishings, gilded mirrors, embroidered tapestries, and the soft glow of crystal sconces, it wasn’t difficult to imagine herself transported centuries into the past, to an era when kings ruled from marble palaces and kingdoms rose or fell at a single royal decree.

For a brief moment, she allowed herself to indulge in the fantasy.

She wasn’t Erina Ramuz but she was a princess awaiting the arrival of her prince.

A faint smile curved her lips. Then it slowly faded. One thing was missing.

The prince.

Almost instinctively, two faces surfaced in her mind.

Ares Zuvel,

and Crown Prince Yohaness of Zalmeria.

Both men possessed the kind of power that could reshape kingdoms and command the admiration of millions. One was a self-made titan whose wealth rivaled that of nations; the other had been born to a throne, carrying generations of royal blood in his veins.

Either one would be beyond the reach of an ordinary woman.

But Erina had never considered herself ordinary. She was the daughter of the president of a country, and she stood equal to a princess of a royal family.

She turned onto her side, her fingers absently tracing the embroidered silk sheets beneath her.

If she could capture the heart of either man, her life would be transformed forever.

If she could capture the attention of both...

Then every woman who had ever looked down on her would have no choice but to look up.

The thought brought a satisfied smile to her lips.

At last, the room truly felt like a princess’s chamber.

All that remained was to claim a prince worthy of it.