The Crown Prince's Forbidden Chef

I never imagined that the night before I was supposed to marry the man I loved would be the night my world ended.

My fingers shook as I adjusted the hem of my engagement gown i was tasting, its soft cream fabric brushing against my wrists. The mirror reflected a girl I barely recognized,the gentle Annabelle Hale, the obedient daughter who had spent twenty-three years of her life bending to the will of a stepmother who never wanted her.

And yet, that mirror, so smooth and unyielding, lied. It lied because what I saw wasn't the worst part. The worst part was the cold smile behind my stepmother's eyes, the way my stepsister, Clara, lingered just a moment too long by the door as if savoring my dress.

"I hope you're ready for tomorrow, dear Annabelle," Lady Miranda's voice sounded sweet, yet every word dripped venom. "You wouldn't want anything to go wrong, would you?" smiling wickedly.

I forced a nod, though my heart screamed. "Yes, Mother."

Clara twirled a lock of her golden hair, her lips curling into a smug smile. "It's almost as if the gods themselves planned for me to wear the dress you'll never see tomorrow."

I swallowed hard, trying not to let the panic show. I had always known they hated me but what was she implying when she made that statement. I had always known they wanted to replace me, to take everything that should have been mine. But the reality...the actual betrayal...was a blow I had not been ready for.

I hadn't even had a chance to say goodbye to Eliam. The thought of him,the warmth of his hand, the softness of his smile,was my only anchor and my only escape from this family if I had married him. Tomorrow should have been our day. Tomorrow should have been my happiness. But instead, there was only darkness.

I didn't even see them coming at first. One moment, I was walking along the quiet path outside my quarter, rehearsing my wedding vows in my mind and the next thing, a rough hand clamped over my mouth, and strong arms lifted me off the ground.

I struggled, kicked, screamed...my voice swallowed by the night air.

" Let me go!" My words barely carried over the sound of my pounding heart.

The hands were merciless. They dragged me into the woods. Branches whipped my face, dirt scratched my skin. My gown was torn, and I could smell the acrid smoke from torches flickering nearby.

"Shh, little lady. Quiet now," one of the men hissed, his breath hot on my ear. His grip on me felt like hot iron. "If you scream again, it'll be the last sound you ever make."

I could taste the fear in my mouth. Panic clawed up my throat, and I realized...I was alone. My stepmother had orchestrated this. Clara had smiled while they took me. And now... now I was at the mercy of men who cared nothing for my life.