It’s a plan

After what felt like a hour going back and forth between the elite guards ,the princess and chase with the assassins .

The marble floors of the palace were streaked with blood, smoke still curling in the air like a ghost refusing to leave. A few of the attackers had been gunned down—those who weren’t lucky enough to escape the wrath of Draevon’s elite security force. One barely alive had managed to vanish into the shadows, crawling away on shaky legs and blind desperation.

In the silence that followed, Princess Alexis dropped to the ground, gun still in hand. Her breath came in hard, sharp gasps as adrenaline crashed and left her system dry. Sweat slicked her brow and ran down her neck, mixing with the dust that clung to her like battle scars. She leaned back against the wall, spinning her gun absentmindedly between her fingers with practiced ease.

Her eyes drifted to Chase across the room—bloodied, bruised, but standing tall like he hadn’t just taken a bullet for her. She gave him the smallest smile, the kind that barely touched her lips but still said more than words.

She rose slowly and walked toward him, limping just slightly.

Alexis:

“Hey. You need to get that bullet wound checked—it’s bleeding.”

She pointed at the red seeping through his sleeve, her tone calm but clipped, like she hadn’t just survived an assassination attempt.

“The medical room’s down the left wing—right before my brot—” she paused, catching herself, “—I mean, before my room. Just take a left after the kitchen doors, two doors on your right. You’ll see it.”

She brushed the dust off her trousers with one hand, the other still gripping her weapon as if she didn’t fully trust the quiet yet.

“I need to check on my family. Make sure everyone’s okay. And… thanks again—for saving me. It meant a lot.”

Her fingers brushed his shoulder—light, brief—before she turned away and headed upstairs without looking back. The sound of her boots on stone echoed behind her, strong and steady like her resolve.

⸻

An hour later…

Chase sat in the dimly lit infirmary, shirt peeled back, the gauze around his arm soaked but secure. He stared at the ceiling, jaw clenched, eyes unfocused. His thoughts weren’t on the pain. They were on her.

Princess Alexis.

The way she’d moved during the shootout—precise, unshaken, breathtaking in her command. And for the first time in years, she hadn’t treated him like a walking contract.

He stood, slung his suit jacket over one shoulder, and walked out. There was one person he needed to speak to before leaving.

Alex.

He made his way to the heir’s quarters—two levels above the carnage, tucked behind reinforced doors meant for royalty and secrets. His hand was just about to grip the handle when he heard it—voices. Muffled. One male. One female. Chase froze.

Then, a very familiar voice drifted through the door.

⸻

Alex (amused):

“Hey, I saw the way you two were fighting side by side… you looked like a power couple. Dramatic af. I swear, the assassins were probably like, ‘Don’t kill me!’ while running from you both!”

Alexis (dryly):

“You big dummy, stop that nonsense.”

There was a sharp smack—likely the back of her hand to his head.

“Of all the things that could injure you, you chose a damn table? You couldn’t just take a bullet like the rest of us?”

A soft rustle followed—clothing being removed.

“And your excuse was that you accidentally stepped on your ball gown? Bullsht. Who the hell is gonna believe that?”*

Then came the unmistakable sound of a wig hitting the floor.

“Anyway, get changed. Your clothes are already laid out. I’m taking this gown to change—when I come back, you better be ready.”

Her heels clicked sharply against the tiles as she moved toward the hidden door. A soft hiss of air as the secret panel opened, then the door slammed shut behind her.

⸻

Chase stepped inside.

He didn’t knock. He didn’t need to. Arms folded, his expression unreadable, he leaned against the doorframe and gave a deliberately loud cough.

Chase (deadpan):

“I never knew you liked female outfits. I could’ve gotten you a dozen more to wear. You looked pretty in it.”

Alex froze mid-button.

Alex (wide-eyed):

“So… you heard what we were saying, huh?”

Chase (shrugging):

“Not everything. Just the good parts. Would be a shame if the world found out the heir to the Dragon Palace is a cross-dresser. What do you think?”

Alex (laughing without shame):

“You won’t. I know you too well. You value me more than anything.”

He flopped onto the velvet sofa with an infuriatingly smug grin.

“And if my sister ever finds out you uploaded something that ruins her beloved older brother’s life? She would never speak to you again. Ever. And we both know how that would make you feel.”

Chase’s jaw tightened—just slightly—but enough for Alex to see the pressure point land.

Chase (coldly):

“You win. But you’re going to do something for me in return.”

Alex (warily):

“What now?”

Chase (grinning like the devil):

“A date. With your sister.”

Alex (choking on laughter):

“That’s impossible.On a date? With you ? "burst into laughter" that's the impossible Alexis would never go on a date with you you and I know that she’s strict …..she will use everything both business and family as an excuse to reject doing that

Chase (leaning in):

“Exactly. That’s why you’re going to make it happen. A little white lie. I get my date… and your little secret? Hidden forever.”

He pulled out his phone and tapped the screen. A thumbnail popped up: a video. Alex in full royal gown, heels, wig and all, mid-rant about stepping on his dress during the ambush.

Alex (groaning):

“You really are the worst.”

Chase:

“We’ve been friends since forever. You know I’ve loved your sister for seven years. Seven. And she’s never spoken to me outside of business meetings or public banquets—until today.”

He tucked his phone away with a satisfied smirk.

Chase (coolly):

“So… either help me. Or the world gets a whiff of the story of the century. Your move, Princess.”

Alex (raising hands in mock surrender):

“Fine, you manipulative bastard. Western Hall. 4 p.m. tomorrow. Bring the Clover movie contract—it’s the only thing that’ll lure her in without a fight. And remember—she’s dressing as me tomorrow to avoid the press.”

He glared.

“I will Tell her I forgot to sign the contract with you and my leg injury fails me from going to meet you and you gonna be traveling outta town for awhile so I have to catch you before the movie premiere . If this backfires, I swear I will dye your hair pink in your sleep.”

Chase (buttoning his jacket):

“Deal. And once it’s done—date or not—I’ll delete the footage.”

Alex (grumbling):

“You better. Or I’ll leak your high school poetry. I still have it saved.”

Chase gave a short, amused laugh as he turned for the door. But as he stepped outside, he paused. The towering palace loomed behind him, its silhouette slicing through the star-smeared sky.

He looked up, that same smirk playing at his lips again.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow, she wouldn’t see him as a ghost from her past.

Tomorrow, he’d make her see him—as something more.

He got in his car and drove off into the night.