Chapter 384: The Hunt Begins

Skylar Blackwood

Chris was testing me.

His sharp gaze studied my every move, searching for hesitation, for doubt. But I gave him none.

When I told him I would handle this, I meant it. Whoever had dared to place those cameras in Classic's chambers had challenged the Blackwood throne. And now, I was going to show them what a mistake that was.

Chris leaned back against his desk, arms crossed. "Fine. The case is yours."

A slow smirk played at the edges of my lips. "Just like that?"

He gave a casual shrug, but there was nothing careless about the way he watched me. "You wanted control. Now you have it. But make no mistake, Skylar—I'm still watching."

A warning.

He was letting me lead, but only on his terms. If I failed, or if I hesitated at the wrong moment, he would step in and handle it himself.

I lifted my chin. "Then I'll make sure you don't have to."

Chris's smirk deepened, his amusement barely concealed. He enjoyed this game—the push and pull of power. But this wasn't a game to me.

I turned toward the door, but his voice stopped me.

"Skylar."

I glanced back.

Chris took a slow sip of his whiskey, eyes never leaving mine. "Make it hurt."

I didn't need to respond.

I intended to.

---

Hours Later – My Private Office

The palace security reports were spread across my desk, each file a puzzle piece waiting to be put together. Someone had access. Someone had planned this.

I needed to find out who.

A knock sounded at the door.

"Enter," I called.

Ethan stepped inside, his expression unreadable. Chris's right hand. The only person besides my husband who truly understood how this palace operated.

I folded my hands under my chin. "Do you have something for me?"

He nodded, placing a thin file on my desk. "The initial sweep eliminated several suspects. But there are a few individuals with suspicious movements in the last forty-eight hours."

I opened the file, scanning the list. Staff, guards, palace aides. All with access. All possible traitors.

"Who's your strongest suspect?" I asked.

Ethan hesitated. "There's a pattern. Someone was monitoring Classic and Amal's schedules. Moving between wings at odd hours. The logs don't add up."

I tapped my fingers against the desk. "And?"

His jaw tightened. "It points to someone inside the palace. Someone high enough to avoid suspicion but close enough to orchestrate this."

A slow chill crept up my spine. "Give me a name."

Ethan exhaled. "Lady Celeste Whitmore."

I froze.

Celeste. A noblewoman. A trusted advisor. A woman who had been in my presence countless times, smiling, bowing, acting as if she were loyal.

She had betrayed us.

I closed the file, my nails pressing into the wood of my desk.

"Where is she now?"

Ethan's gaze darkened. "Still in the palace. Unaware that we know."

I exhaled slowly, my mind already working through my next steps.

Chris had told me to make it hurt.

And I intended to deliver.