I don't know what happened after texting Kayvon.
I must have fallen asleep in a daze because the
next thing I hear is pounding, loud, relentless
banging on my door. I drag myself out of bed,
heavy and numb. When I open it, Kayvon is standing
there in a suit, looking unfairly gorgeous. His
eyes are weary though, and the moment I see him,
I break. I collapse into sobs, and he grabs me,
pulling me into his arms. I don't hug him back.
I feel weak, hollow, and hopeless. But he holds
me anyway, firm and steady, while I cry against
him, soaking his perfect suit with my tears.
He walks me to the couch, sits, and keeps holding
me. I'm so sorry, La. He whispers. I'm so fucking
sorry. They couldn't save him. I choke out. They
just couldn't. I thought I had more time. I thought
he'd at least stay another week, but he... He
died. I'm sorry. He says again, pulling me closer.
This time, I hug him back. Because right now,
he's the only one who knows. The only one who
cares. I have no one else. We stay like that
for what feels like hours. Until it hits me,
I jolt upright. Wait, your proposal? Why are
you here? Because your dad died, Lara, and you're
all alone. What about your birthday? What about
Natasha? What about... Shh. I'm here, exactly
where I'm supposed to be, with you. But why?
I whisper. Because I want to be a good friend.
Is the engagement off? For now. I haven't done
it yet. I came here instead. You left me such
a cryptic message. I didn't even know where you
were. I went to the hospital and they said you
left. But your car was still there. I couldn't
drive. I felt sick. I still feel... Shhh! He
strokes my hair. It's alright. I'm here. I don't
remember what happens after that. All I know
is when I finally wake, I'm in my bed. And Kayvon
is lying beside me. I jerk upright at the sight
of him. He's in my bedroom. He must have been
here the whole time, holding me while I slept.
His suit is gone. Now he's in just a shirt, unbuttoned
at the collar. What? What happened? My voice
is hoarse. You fell asleep. He says softly. I
didn't want to leave you alone, so I came here.
Is that a problem? I glance around the room,
like I might find an answer hiding in the corners.
But then his hand catches my chin, steadying
me, turning my eyes back to him. Are you okay,
Lara? I shake my head. I don't feel too good.
He presses his palm to my forehead, like I'm
a child he's checking for a fever. The gesture
is so simple it makes me almost smile. Not that
kind of bad, I murmur. My stomach just feels
empty, that kind of sick, that kind of loss.
He doesn't say anything, just waits. He was all
I had left, I whisper. After mum died eight years
ago, it was just us. We've had this bond forever.
I'm sorry, Lara. Truly. You didn't have to stay.
I wanted to. Your parents are going to be livid.
Then let them be livid. They can fire me. Over
my dead body. I roll my eyes. Do you always have
a comeback for everything I say? Silence falls
between us. He just looks at me. and I can't
handle the weight of it. I stand, breaking away.
Are you hungry? Well, I'm hungry. But all I've
got is soup. It was supposed to be for my dad,
but… He nods. Yes, I'm starved. Didn't you eat?
At your function? Barely. I'd rather have some
soup. I eye him. You're just saying that to make
me feel better? No. He says quickly. I haven't
had a home -cooked meal in a long time. You eat
at home often. Yes, but it's not really home
-cooked. Not like this. He shrugs. Besides, I've
never tasted your food. You had no reason to.
I turn and walk to the kitchen. He follows, of
course. The soup might be bland. I warn. I don't
care. I dish it up, hand him a bowl, and we sit
together on the couch. He takes a sip. I know
it's awful. I didn't use much salt or sugar.
Hospital regulations, apparently. I don't even
know what that has to do with dad's cancer, but
whatever. How is it? Good. Really good. I squint
at him. You're a horrible liar. No, actually.
We sit in silence for a while, then I grab the
remote and flick on the TV. And there he is.
The headline blares, Prince escapes his birthday
party, leaving girlfriend alone. I should be
panicking, calling in, managing the fallout,
but my replacement is already on it. Still, if
the King and Queen knew he was here with me,
They'd have my head. Can we watch something else?
Shouldn't you be at least a little concerned
about this? Nope. I chuckle. You're making their
lives hard. As long as I'm here with you, it
doesn't matter. I swallow, then add, almost without
thinking. Here, with me, as a friend. I don't
even know why I said it, but I did. Cave -on
looks at me, his brow furrowed. As a friend.
He repeats quietly. The night drags on. We talk,
filling the silence with small things, bits of
catching up, random stories, until his phone
rings out loud. I thought you had it on silent.
I did, but I set a timer for it to come back
on. If I don't, and I go missing longer than
I should, They'll send a search party. And I
don't want them showing up here. He steps away
to answer. When he returns, he sighs, sliding
his phone into his back pocket. I have to go,
unfortunately. He pauses. Hey, can you give me
an update on your dad's funeral? I nod. Four
days pass. I don't send him an update. I'm too
scared to plan it, too drained to face it. It's
going to be small. Two people from dad's side.
No one from mum's. They're all overseas. On the
fifth day, I finally text him. The funeral is
today. He doesn't sound pleased when he replies.
Three days ago, he announced his engagement to
Natasha. Maybe that's why I didn't bother telling
him sooner. He's busy with his perfect royal
life. The funeral comes and goes. He doesn't
show. And honestly, I'm glad. When I get home,
I kick off my shoes and curl up on the couch,
wrapped in a blanket. The sadness rolls over
me again. Dad is gone. Really gone. At least
he's with mom now. I sigh. And then, there's
a pounding on my door. Loud. Insistent. Oh God.
I open the door, still in my funeral clothes,
and before I can say a word, Kayvon crashes into
me, his arms wrapped tight around me, and just
like that, I break in his embrace. Because he's
the only one I feel safe with right now, and
every time he holds me, I feel to release. I'm
so sorry I missed it. I fucking missed it, Lara.
Ugh. They had me tied up in endless public speaking
bullshit. It's fine. I manage, my breath trembling.
He kicks the door shut behind him, still holding
me close. At least I have you here now as a friend.
I add. There's a beat of silence. Then, softly,
but firmly, he says, I don't see you as a friend,
Lara. I see you as something more. I pull back
and meet his eyes. He looks devastated, torn
apart. I like you. And I know this is the worst
possible time to say it. And yes, I'm engaged
to another woman. But I fucking like you. I've
always liked you, not as a friend, as more. I
blink at him, stunned. Why would you say this
now? I turn away, shaking my head. But he follows
and grabs my hand, swinging me back around. I
love you. Can you please stop? My voice breaks.
None of this makes sense. Even if you love me,
nothing can happen. I won't be your fuck buddy.
You're going to ruin my life just by saying this.
How selfish can you be? I rip my hand free and
back away, clutching my head. Couldn't you have
picked a better time? I'm still grieving my dad.
I've fallen for you. He says, broken. I love
you, Lara. Don't lie to me. I point at him, furious.
Tell me the truth. Haven't you felt something
more than friendship between us? I know I have.
And I can't shake the feeling. I know you must
have felt it too. I shake my head. I don't know
what you are talking about. You're delusional.
If I'm delusional, then deny this. Kayvon yanks
me forward, pressing his lips against mine. I
immediately melt against him like a lovesick
fool. God help me, because I kiss him back. I
kiss him like I'd been waiting for a moment like
this. He swallows my tongue, drinking me in like
his first cup of coffee. Good God, this feels
good. We are desperate, careless, frenzied like
anxious teenagers. We struggle, breathing hard.
My denial crashing into grief. I moan against
his sweet kisses. And now I know why he's him.
Why his women never stop chasing him. He's fucking
magnetic. When I finally pull away, my voice
cracks. This, this means nothing. Kayvon's hand
cups my cheek, steady, gentle. Lara. I whisper
against him. guarded. I'm only doing this because
my day and week has been shit. He exhales, and
it's more like a sigh. I ignore him. I want you
to fuck me like you did to those girls. His jaw
tightens. I don't want to fuck you. He says firmly.
His eyes search mine, and for once, he looks
completely stripped down, raw. I want to make
love to you. He lifts me into his arms, and I
wrap tight around his neck as he carries me into
my room. He lays me down on the bed with a care
that makes my chest ache. His shirt comes open,
and even though I've seen him bear a hundred
times, I still can't look away. That body, God,
it always leaves me breathless, no matter how
hard I try to hide it. Lift for me, he murmurs,
and I do, letting him peel away my blouse. My
bra is the only thing left, and his mouth finds
me there, kissing down my neck, across my shoulder,
until he pulls the lace aside and takes my nipple
between his lips. A gasp slips from me, soft
and shaky, as I clutch him closer. His kisses
are slow, tender, nothing like the careless way
I've seen him with other women. With them, he
was rough, detached, he never even kissed them.
But with me, He's gentle, sweet, and that scares
me more than anything. He slides my bra away
completely, leaving me bare, and tugs down my
skirt until I'm in nothing but panties. Do you
have condoms? He shakes his head no. My hand
fumbles in the drawer, pulling one free. I'm
on the pill, but just in case. Ironic, really.
I never use them. My love life has been a ghost
town, but now, because of him, they finally have
a purpose. I watch as he rolls the condom on
with ease, then hovers over me. But I shake my
head, grip his shoulders, and shove him down
onto the bed. My body follows, straddling him,
hovering above. I don't even bother stripping
my underwear. I push them aside, sink down onto
him. and my palms slap against his rigid stomach
for balance. He exhales hard, gripping my waist
as I move over him. He's thick, hard as stone,
stretching me perfectly. A broken whimper falls
from my lips as he thrusts up into me, burying
deep, my claw at his chest, my body rolling as
I ride him, faster, harder. He groans, His grip
bruises my hips. You feel so good. And then,
in one powerful motion, he flips me beneath him
again, stealing control. He slams into me, deep
and relentless, his face buried in my neck as
he inhales me, groaning against my skin. My legs
wrap around his waist, locking him closer, pulling
him deeper. Don't stop. He kisses me hungrily,
and I answer with equal fire, my tongue sliding
against his as we devour each other. We roll
again, tangled, and I end up back on top, grinding
down on him. My moans echo through the room as
I bury my face against his, kissing him desperately,
riding him harder and harder. Something explodes
inside me, my stomach clenching, my whole body
stiffening. He sees it. The way I break apart,
and his hands lock on my hips. I thrash, my head
rolling, my palms slapping against his stomach
as wave after wave of ecstasy tears through me.
I scream. The release rips out of me, leaving
me a trembling mess. And before I can catch my
breath, he flips me beneath him again. He pushes
into me slowly, deliberately, dragging every
ounce of pleasure out of my body. I cry. I don't
even know if it's from grief, from bliss, from
everything colliding inside me, but I cry like
a baby. My tears soak my cheeks, my neck, and
still he doesn't stop. He kisses them away while
his body moves inside me, deep and unyielding.
I cling to him, nails raking his back, sobs shaking
through me as he holds me tighter, his breathing
turns jagged. I wrap myself around him, holding
him close as his body jerks. Once. Twice. Three
times. before he collapses against me, shuddering.
A broken exhale escapes him as I feel him pulse
inside me, the last surge of him spilling into
me, filling me. And then it's just us, sweaty,
tangled, breathless, clinging to each other like
the world outside doesn't exist. We stay like
this, tangled in each other, for what feels like
forever. He plays with my hair. brushing his
fingers through it. And every so often, he kisses
my forehead. I've never seen this side of him
before. So tender, so gentle. But I know better.
This is all it can ever be. I may not even have
a job after this. Fine. I'll take over dad's
shop, rebuild it. I've always dreamed of doing
cakes. And with my publicist skills, I can make
it work. This Whatever this was, was a one -time
thing. He'll go on and marry Natasha. And me?
At least I got to experience it once. The best
sex of my life. Kayvon pinches my cheek, pulling
me back from my thoughts. What are you thinking
about? Nothing. I lie. I can see those bees buzzing.
It must be something. It's nothing. I slip off
of him, pulling the sheet over me. It's after
midnight. You should go. He blinks. What? You
finally got what you wanted all along. Now go.
Don't you want to be with Natasha? His face hardens.
What the fuck are you saying, Laura? I know you
wanted to get an edge off. I did too. But the
night's over. His expression shatters. You think
I just wanted to fuck you? Isn't that what you
do with all your women? Are you being fucking
real right now? Yes. You really think this could
be something? You're engaged for fuck's sake.
This isn't going to work. And I'm not going to
be your mistress. He glares, his jaw tight. You
think I'll make love with you and then still
marry her? I laugh bitterly. You don't have a
choice, Kayvon. You're the prince. You don't
get to choose. I don't match up to your world.
I'm just me, a lowly person who doesn't belong.
The fuck you will. He snaps. Excuse me? I'm not
going to marry Natasha. I'm going to marry you.
I blink up at him, and then I laugh again. Not
a sweet laugh. A sharp, manic laugh that fills
the room. Is my pussy that good? But there's
no laughter on his face. No joke in his eyes.
He's deadly serious. Yes. He says, steady. I
am marrying you. Good Lord, you've lost it. I
shake my head. Maybe you should really go. Just
leave. Lara. Leave. My voice cracks. Anger flickers
in him. He bends, grabbing his clothes from the
floor. yanking them on with sharp movements.
How dare you! How dare you come here and insult
me like this! My chest tightens. Am I the fool
then? I shove back tears. I'll be sending my
resignation tomorrow. I won't be played by you
or anyone at that palace. I know how this ends
and I won't sit around waiting for it. Lara,
please! Go! He glares at me, fully dressed now.
his face hard and wounded. Then he storms out,
the door slamming behind him. Silence crashes
into the room. I sink onto the couch, burying
my face in my hands. I don't know what I feel.
I stare at the blank wall, numb. The next day,
I keep my word. I send in my resignation. For
the next three weeks, I lock myself inside my
apartment, drowning in silence and card games,
scribbling down half -baked ideas for Dad's shop,
cake making, a restart, anything that doesn't
involve the palace. I don't turn on the TV. I
don't want to see him. And Cave On hasn't called.
Not once. Good. When my remuneration package
comes through, I drag myself to the palace to
collect it. Being back there is nauseating enough.
But then, out of nowhere, a wave of sickness
rips through me. I barely make it to the bathroom
before I'm puking my guts out. The thought of
being here again makes me want to retch harder.
Thank God I haven't seen Cave On. If I had, I
might have collapsed completely. Back home, the
nausea doesn't stop. It lingers. gnaws, stretches
into three miserable days until I finally end
up at the doctor. She frowns at me, then hands
me one of those sticks. I shake my head. That's
impossible. I'm on the pill. And the last time
I had sex, only once, we used condoms. Just to
be safe, she says. Five minutes later, I'm sitting
there, head in my hands. staring at the stick.
Two lines. Two fucking lines. I'm pregnant. By
the end of the day, the doctor tells me I'm six
weeks pregnant. Six weeks. Exactly when Kayvon
and I... Oh dear God. The one thing I swore would
never happen, the one thing I tried so hard to
prevent, happened anyway. But how? I used condoms.
I was on the pill. What kind of fucked up joke
is this? The condoms were fine. I bought them
myself, for him. They weren't old. They weren't
faulty. And the pill? Oh no. My stomach drops
as I sort through my batch, doing my math. A
couple of missed days right after dad's death.
Two days. That's all it took. How can the world
be this cruel to me? Nausea slams into me, and
I hurl into the sink, dry heaving until my ribs
ache. There's no way I can tell him. No way.
The palace would have to know eventually. Rumours,
whispers, medical records. But if I don't decide
what to do now, the choice will be ripped from
me later. I have to make a decision. And soon.
It doesn't take long for word to spread about
my sudden nausea at the palace. Of all the days,
why did my body have to betray me there, in front
of the entire staff, while I was only supposed
to collect my damn cheque? Now everyone's whispering.
I'm in the kitchen boiling an egg when my phone
rings. The sound slices through the silence like
a knife. Cave -on. My chest tightens. I don't
answer. because deep down I have this sick, sinking
feeling he knows. It's after eight when the pounding
starts at my door. Five hours since his first
call, five hours before he came knocking, I try
to ignore it, but the banging rattles the walls,
rattles my chest. Finally, I take a deep breath
and open it. Kevon stands there looking miserable.
He says, His voice breaking, I hold my ground.
What are you doing here? You know why I'm here.
No, I don't, actually. The last I checked, you
were supposed to be getting engaged to Natasha,
preparing for your wedding, leaving me the fuck
alone. His eyes sharpen. You're pregnant. My
stomach twists. I narrow my eyes. Well, God's
being generous with you, huh? Imagining things.
There are whispers at the palace. He says his
jaw tight They said you were sick when you came
in for your package that you puked your guts
out Why can't it just be the flu? I snap He pushes
past me slamming the door behind him. Do you
take me for a fool? Yes He reaches for my shoulder.
I shove him away. Leave me alone Are you pregnant?
No The lie tastes bitter. Then why were you sick?
Why is any of this your problem? It's not your
problem. It is, he says fiercely, because I actually
care. Even if you don't believe me. You don't
care. How dare you? His voice shakes. He grabs
my wrist, pulling me close. I swear to God, if
you're pregnant and lying to me. You'll what?
What can you do? Even if I was pregnant, what
could you do? His face hardens. So you are pregnant.
I rip free and storm off, but he follows. Talk
to me, La. Please. I don't know how it happened.
We were careful. My chest cracks and the words
tumble out. I probably skipped two days. With
Dad. With everything. I missed days on my pills.
That's all it took. His arms close around me
before I can break again. It's fine. I peer up
at him, fury and grief tangled. How can this
be fine? Everything I did these past months,
everything was to prevent this. To keep from
giving you a bastard child. And now I'm carrying
yours. The condom broke. What? I noticed after
I slipped it off. Anger boils inside me. And
you didn't think to say something? He shrugs,
nonchalant as if a child is not a big deal. You
said you were on the pill. Honestly, I didn't
think of it as a big deal, but now it makes sense.
You're an asshole. This feels like a trap. Why
on earth would he not say anything? It's as if
he wanted this. Did he? Oh my god. What is wrong
with this man? I promise you, it's not a trap.
I had no intentions of impregnating you. At least
not like that. I press my fingers to my forehead
where a headache surfaces. Come on now. We'll
deal with it. Together. No. My voice is steel.
I'll deal with it. Alone. I'm getting an abortion.
You absolutely will not." He snaps. My chest
heaves. You cannot tell me what to do with my
body. You think I want this kind of life. To
be whistled at, chastised, dragged through the
mud for carrying a bastard child. For trapping
the prince. That's the worst thing that could
happen to me. His eyes flash. You have no choice
in this anymore, Lara. Excuse me? You're carrying
our child. You're carrying a royal. You cannot
abandon them. Get out of my apartment. I spit.
He steps closer, but I shove him back. Get out.
Kayvon's anger fades, his shoulders loosening.
Can we at least talk about this? My engagement
has been off for the last two weeks. I'm sure
we can work something out. The words slam into
me. Wait. What did you just say? I called it
off. I couldn't bear marrying someone I don't
love. My parents were livid, said I wasn't doing
my duty, but I didn't care. I didn't love her.
I told them I was in love with someone else.
My mouth falls open. Did you tell them about
us? No. His voice softens. I didn't tell them
it was you. He takes a step closer. And now this.
You're pregnant with our child. Our child. I
shake my head. They'll never accept this. Your
mother has hated my guts from the start. Perhaps
because she knew, he says quietly, knew the kind
of woman I'd fall for. I clench my jaw. This
doesn't change anything. Then wait. Think about
it. Give it time. I need to tell my parents about
us. But I won't tell them you're pregnant. Not
yet. I blink at him. He's serious. He's really
going to do this. Are you sure? Yes, he says
firmly. They'll have to accept you, no matter
what. Maybe it's time for a change at the palace.
A traditional change. I bury my face in my palms.
shaking my head. All of this could have been
avoided if I hadn't fucked him. Kayvon, sweet,
stubborn Kayvon, takes my hand and kisses the
back of it gently. The last thing I would ever
want is for you to abort our child, La. I love
you. And I would love them just as much. I look
up at him. His eyes are so soft, so certain.
But I know. The moment he tells his parents,
none of this will make sense anymore. Two days.
That's all it takes before he lets the king and
queen know who he's in love with. And then it's
everywhere. The news. The headlines. The world.
Apparently, his parents didn't take it well.
Not at all. So he does the unthinkable. The headline
scrolls across the screen in bold letters. Prince
abdicates the throne. Reasons unknown. I blink
at the screen. Frozen. Oh God. He's done it.
He's actually done it. Prince Kayvon has abdicated
the throne. Now his parents are cornered, their
only living heir gone. The crown will pass to
his father's brother when the king dies. The
palace is in chaos. A sharp knock rattles my
door. I jump. my heart in my throat. The news
is still blaring from the TV when I force myself
to answer it. Cavon stands there, and behind
him, the King and the Queen. Everything happens
in a blur. I'm whisked away under private security,
though I don't need it. They don't even take
me to the palace. We end up at some hidden residence,
a private home tucked out of sight. Two hours.
That's how long the negotiations last. Two hours
of my life carved up and bartered over like property.
But eventually, his parents concede. Kavon and
I will marry. I will carry this child and I will
become royalty, securing the next heir after
him. My head spins. It's happening too fast.
Kavon pulls me into his arms, hugging me tight.
I stand there, stiff, numb. My dad isn't here
to see any of this. And maybe he was right all
along. Yes, I would have my blessing someday.
But at what cost? Kavon kisses me as he holds
me. He's made this real. Made it happen. And
I do love him. God help me. I do. But all of
it feels surreal. Like a dream I can't wake from.
I stay hidden away at the private residence,
counting down the days. In five days, the world
will know who I am. The woman who stole the prince's
heart. The woman carrying his child. Kayvon stays
with me through it all. He watches me carefully,
seeing how unsettled I am. Are you sure you're
okay with all of this? He asks. I nod. I'm just
overwhelmed. He hugs me, kisses my forehead.
It's okay. I know it's big news. I know it's
a lot to take in. But we'll get through it, won't
we? I nod again. Then he smiles. That mischievous
smile. Since we're all alone here, are you up
for it? I raise an eyebrow. Up for what? He winks.
I laugh. You're not thinking of fucking, are
you? It's not going to be fucking. He murmurs.
It's going to be love making. To my wife to be.
Oh dear. I smirk. Can you handle it? He chuckles.
Me? It's you I'm worried about. Me? I tease back.
It's different when you're pregnant. Heard we're
ravenous. You might be in for some trouble. He
smirks. takes my hand and pulls me up, lifting
me into his arms, carrying me towards the bedroom.
He strips down, and I can't help but laugh. It
has been like this since the very beginning.
Maybe, just maybe, he did it all on purpose,
just so I would fall in love with him. He's always
been so comfortable around me. No matter how
many times I've seen you naked, I murmur, it
still awes me. Really? His lips curl into a smug
smile. I always thought you hated me. Never.
I was jealous of what I couldn't have. His eyes
widen, softening. You could have always had it.
That's why I kept showing you. I roll my eyes.
I used to think you were a creep. Perhaps I was.
He admits, voice low. For you. He moves toward
me slowly, deliberate, heat radiating with every
step. I wrap my hand around his erection. His
lips curl into a slow smile, his eyes never leaving
mine. I lower, sliding down until I'm on my knees
before him. I don't look away, not once. I want
him to feel how much control I have right now,
how much power is in my hands. His chest rises,
heavy and uneven, as if bracing for the inevitable.
I cover my mouth over him and his body jerks.
A moan tears out of him, raw, guttural. You have
met the end of The Arrogant Prince Part 3. This
is the final part. Stay tuned for a different
story. And if you haven't already, subscribe,
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ya. Bye.