He arrogantly ditched his pregnant wife for his secretary, mocking her as a penniless burden—but his world collapsed when he watched her board a royal private jet to Paris, realizing she was the secret heiress to a throne he had desperately tried to impress his entire life.

Half a world away, behind the towering iron gates of the Palais de Provins in the south of France, spring was finally breaking through the winter chill.

The ancient stone courtyards were filled with blooming white roses and the soft splashing of marble fountains. Inside the grand nursery on the third floor, sunlight streamed through tall arched windows, illuminating a room carved from old-world luxury and modern tenderness.

Princess Vivian sat in a velvet rocking chair, humming a quiet Racine lullaby.

In her arms rested a newborn baby girl—wrapped in a blanket of hand-spun Swiss silk embroidered with the silver coronet of the principality. The infant had a tuft of dark hair and tiny, perfect fingers that were wrapped tightly around Vivian’s thumb.

The heavy oak door opened softly, and Arthur Pendelton stepped into the room, holding a silver leather-bound ledger.

"Your Highness," Arthur murmured, bowing his head respectfully. "The morning dispatches from Chicago have arrived."

Vivian didn't look up from the baby. "Is there anything requiring my attention, Arthur?"

"Only a routine bankruptcy filing notice regarding the liquidation of Apex Logistics' remaining assets," Arthur reported smoothly. "Mr. Brooks’s former employer is facing criminal charges for corporate negligence. As for Mr. Brooks himself... our investigators report he has moved back into a spare room at his mother’s home in Ohio, working nights at a local freight warehouse to pay off his mounting legal debts."

Vivian gently stroked her daughter’s cheek. Her expression was completely serene—no bitterness, no lingering anger, only the deep, unshakeable peace of a woman who had shed her winter coat and found her true kingdom.

"Let him work, Arthur," Vivian said softly. "Hard work builds character. Perhaps, in time, it will teach him what real value looks like."

"Shall I maintain the restraining order regarding proximity to the estate?" Arthur asked.