Chapter 402: The Death of a King

Ethan Carter

Chris Blackwood was about to die.

Not in flesh, but in name, in presence, in power. And I was the one tasked with making it happen.

I moved through the corridors of the palace with precision, my mind already orchestrating every detail. There was no room for error. Chris's plan required absolute secrecy, absolute execution. The moment a single crack formed, the illusion would shatter.

I pulled out my phone as I entered my private quarters. There were calls to be made. Orders to be given. A kingdom to deceive.

Phase One: The Official Statement

The palace physician, Dr. Reynolds, was the first contact. He was loyal, but loyalty had to be reinforced.

I dialed his number.

He picked up on the second ring. "Mr. Carter?"

"Dr. Reynolds, listen carefully. His Majesty has suffered a sudden cardiac arrest. It was fatal. You will make the official announcement at dawn."

A sharp intake of breath. "Cardiac arrest? But His Majesty was in perfect health just—"

I cut him off. "It is not a request, Doctor. It is an order."

Silence. Then, a slow exhale. "Understood."

"Good. Have your medical report prepared. It needs to be convincing."

"I'll handle it."

I ended the call.

One step done.

Phase Two: Controlling the Narrative

I dialed the palace's media director, Alan Greaves.

"Ethan?" Alan's voice was groggy, laced with sleep. "It's almost midnight—"

"The King is dead."

Silence.

Then, a sharp rustling sound as if he had sat up too fast. "What?"

"You will release an official statement at dawn. His Majesty passed away in his sleep due to heart failure. The country must believe it. No speculation, no alternative theories."

"Ethan, this—"

"This is not a discussion, Alan. You either handle the media properly, or I will find someone who will."

A shaky breath. "I'll take care of it."

"Good." I paused. "And Alan?"

"Yes?"

"Grief sells. Make sure the world mourns."

I hung up.

Now, the world would wake up to tragedy.

Phase Three: Securing the Palace

I needed to ensure that no one questioned the legitimacy of the situation. The palace guards had to be locked in place, the royal council contained, and the Blackwood family kept under strict surveillance.

I strode into the security wing, where Commander Bryce stood waiting. He snapped to attention as I approached.

"Ethan."

"Lock down the palace at first light. No one leaves, no one enters without my approval."

His brow furrowed. "Under whose orders?"

I met his gaze evenly. "The King's."

A long pause. Then, a stiff nod. "Understood."

I moved toward the next phase.

Phase Four: Watching Classic

Chris had made it clear—this was about more than just faking his death. It was about testing Classic.

Would he crumble? Would he rise? Would he make the same mistakes his father had—or worse, different ones?

I had to see it all.

And I had to be ready to step in only when necessary.

By the time I reached Classic's quarters, the weight of what I was about to do settled heavily on my shoulders.

I knocked twice before stepping in.

He stood by the window, his back to me, the city lights stretching beyond the glass. He turned slowly, his expression unreadable.

"Ethan."

I didn't speak right away.

He was different now. Sharper. As if his father's test had already begun reshaping him before he even knew what was coming next.

I took a breath. "Classic."

His gaze flickered with something unreadable. "What is it?"

I hesitated for half a second. Then, I spoke the words that would shatter everything.

"Your father is dead."

Phase Five: The Collapse Begins

The moment the words left my lips, I saw it—

The flicker of disbelief. The tightening of his jaw. The moment his world fractured.

Classic took a slow step forward. "What did you just say?"

I met his gaze evenly. "Your father passed away in his sleep. Heart failure."

His fists clenched at his sides. "You're lying."

I held my ground. "The official statement will be released at dawn."

Classic inhaled sharply, his mind racing. "Where is he?"

"His body is being prepared."

Silence.

I could see the war inside him—logic battling emotion, grief wrestling with suspicion.

Then, he did something unexpected.

He straightened. His expression hardened.

And when he finally spoke, his voice was cold. Controlled.

"Prepare the council. I will address the kingdom at sunrise."

I nodded slowly, watching him. He was stepping into the role his father had forged for him.

But the real test was only beginning.

Because when the king dies, the wolves come out.

And I had no doubt—they were already circling.