?Chapter 820:
Makenna’s anguished face zed in my mind’s eye, a testament to unspoken grievances.
The warehouse incident took on new shadows as I reexamined it. Evelyn’s presence, though subtle, seemed woven through every event like an invisible spider’s web, connecting disparate moments into a pattern I was only now beginning to perceive.
My gaze sharpened as I studied the seemingly fragile woman before me, her helpless demeanor at odds with the growing web of suspicion in my mind.
Evelyn’s POV:
I sank to my knees, the stares of the three princes cutting into me like des. Theirmanding presence wrapped around me, a suffocating force that made the cold sweat running down my back feel like ice.
Cursing my fate under my breath, I couldn’t help but resent the moment I decided to follow Antoni’s harebrained scheme.
I had warned him—warned him that this whole n was a ticking time bomb, waiting to blow. The three princes were no ordinary men, and certainly…
Their eyes missed nothing, their instincts sharper than a predator’s. Adding that wretched potion to the herbal soup meant for the sex ves—designed to drive them into uncontroble aggression—wasn’t just reckless; it was ying with fire. What if they attacked the king?
But Antoni, consumed by his blinding hatred, waved off all my protests and charged ahead.
All I could do now was pray—pray that the princes still held some thread of gratitude toward Anthea, that they’d hesitate to suspect me outright.
With that sliver of hope flickering in my mind, I forced myself to keep calm, though my heart pounded like a war drum. Tears streamed down my face as I pleaded, “Your Highnesses, I swear on my life, I am innocent. Every word I’ve spoken is the truth. Had I known this catastrophe was brewing, I’d never have suggested holding the banquet. And I had no idea Makenna was a white wolf. Please, you must believe me.”
The three princes’ silence was deafening, their icy gazes like chains, weighing me down further with each passing second.
Finally, Dominic leaned forward, his piercing eyes boring into mine, as if he could strip away my mask and uncover the truth beneath. “Is Anthea really your sister?” he asked, his voice a razor’s edge.
Panic surged through me, twisting my stomach into knots. My mind raced, but outwardly, I forced myself to remainposed.
“Your Highness, if Anthea isn’t my sister, then whose sister could she be?” I replied, my voice steady though my fists clenched so tightly that my nails bit into my palms. “Surely, you’re not serious. Please, don’t jest about such matters.”
“It seems that ever since you entered the picture, Makenna has grown distant from us.” yton’s voice cut in, cold and sharp. “Tell me—are you truly uninvolved in this chaos?”
I raised my head, letting confusion and hurt paint my expression, every wordced with wounded sincerity. “Your Highness, I truly don’t understand what you’re implying. I’ve never sought to meddle in your bond with Makenna, let alone cause a rift.”
Bryan’sugh was a dagger, sharp and mocking. “Oh, really?” he sneered, his skepticism palpable.
Just when I thought I’d reached the end of my rope, a servant burst into the dungeon, breathless and trembling.
“Miss Nixon, there is someone here who wishes to see you. The person said your mother is gravely ill and asking to see you onest time before she passes.”
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