Chapter 12
Kael sat at his mahogany desk, his elbows resting heavily on its polished surface, his head in his hands. The air in his office felt stifling, suffocating, as if the walls themselves had closed in on him after the bombshell revelation he’d just heard.
Zorina was Celestina Alvada. The president’s secret daughter.
The words echoed in his mind, relentless and unforgiving. He had walked out of his mother’s room only moments ago, leaving behind her pale, tear-streaked face and his father’s grim expression. The truth had struck him like a thunderbolt, leaving his entire world shaken.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he had shouted at his father just minutes ago. “Why hide her identity from me? From all of us?”
Lord Veridan’s response was calm, too calm. “You weren’t meant to know, Kael. It was safer that way—for her, for us.”
“Safer?” Kael had spat, his voice rising. “You turned her into a servant in her own home. You let us treat her like she was nothing! And you knew—” His voice broke, and he couldn’t finish the sentence.
Now, sitting in his office, Kael’s anger simmered beneath the surface, threatening to boil over. He slammed his fist onto the desk, the sharp sound echoing in the room. He was furious at his father for keeping such a monumental secret. Furious at the world for its cruel twists of fate. But most of all, furious at himself.
How could I have been so blind?
He thought back to every moment he’d shared with Zorina—or Celestina, as he now had to think of her. He remembered her quiet grace, her unwavering patience, the way she tried to please everyone despite the way they treated her.
He had been cruel to her, dismissive, indifferent. He had called her a pawn. He had let his family trample over her, never once stepping in to defend her. And now… now she was gone.
Kael leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixed on the ceiling as guilt clawed at his chest. “How could I have let her go?” he murmured aloud, the words tasting bitter on his tongue.
For the first time in his life, he felt powerless. The Veridan family, so proud of its status and influence, owed everything to her. Without Zorina—no, Celestina—they were nothing.
I need to make this right, he thought. I need to win her back.
But how?
His mind raced through possibilities, each one seeming more impossible than the last. She was the president’s daughter now, surrounded by people who truly valued her. What could he offer her that she didn’t already have?
The door to his office creaked open, breaking his spiraling thoughts. He looked up to see Marta, one of the household maids, standing hesitantly in the doorway.
“What is it?” he asked sharply, his tone harsher than he intended.
Marta flinched but stepped inside, her hands wringing the edge of her apron. “I’m sorry to disturb you, sir, but… I thought you should know something.”
Kael gestured impatiently. “Out with it, Marta. I don’t have all day.”
She took a deep breath. “I was at the market earlier, sir, and there’s talk—big talk—about a ball being held at the palace tonight.”
Kael’s brows furrowed. “The palace? What for?”
“To celebrate the return of the president’s daughter, sir,” Marta said carefully. “Lady Celestina.”
Kael stiffened at the name, the weight of it hitting him again like a punch to the gut. “A ball?” he repeated, his voice low.
Marta nodded. “Yes, sir. Everyone’s saying it’s the event of the year. The president’s invited nobles, dignitaries, and foreign ambassadors. It’s all anyone can talk about.”
Kael clenched his jaw. He didn’t need to ask to know that his name wouldn’t be on the guest list. After all, why would President Alvada invite the man who had treated his daughter so poorly?
But the idea of sitting here while the rest of the world celebrated her… it was unbearable. The thought of other men courting her, of her laughing and smiling with someone who truly deserved her, twisted like a knife in his chest.
“I need to be there,” he said suddenly, rising from his chair.
Marta blinked in surprise. “Sir? But… you haven’t been invited.”
Kael’s lips curled into a grim smile. “Since when has that ever stopped me?”
He paced the room, his mind racing. If he could just see her, just speak to her for a moment, maybe he could explain. Apologize. Beg, if necessary. He had to find a way to make her see that he wasn’t the same man she’d walked away from.
“Marta,” he said, turning to the maid. “Do you know what time the ball starts?”
“Eight o’clock, sir.”
Kael glanced at the clock on his wall. It was already six. He didn’t have much time.
“Prepare my finest suit,” he ordered. “And call for the driver.”
Marta hesitated. “But, sir… what if they don’t let you in?”
Kael’s expression hardened. “I don’t care what it takes, I’m going to that ball.”
