MY SUITOR

POV – Princess Amara Bellavine

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VINCENT MORETTI.

I whispered the name again, slower this time, letting the weight of it settle on my tongue.

It felt forbidden… intoxicating… like a secret I wasn’t meant to know yet.

Vincent Moretti…

“Is he also looking for a bride?” I asked Helena, trying—and failing—to sound casual. My voice betrayed the curiosity twisting in my stomach.

Helena’s eyes lit up instantly, as though she had been waiting for this moment.

“Oh my—Princess, you chose him?”

Her excitement crackled in the air.

“He’s a nobleman from Italy. A rising star in international business. And right now, he’s pursuing major projects right here in Bellavara.”

My breath hitched.

So he was close—close enough to breathe the same air, walk the same streets… maybe even close enough to meet by chance.

But before the warmth in my chest could bloom—

Ahem.

My mother’s cold, clipped voice cut through the air like a blade.

“To me, he just looks like a commoner.”

Her words stung, sharp and familiar.

She always found a flaw—especially in anything I wanted.

“Your Majesty,” Helena immediately stepped in, respectful yet firm, “Mr. Moretti is a nobleman. And one of the most promising young businessmen in Europe. I can assure you, he meets the royal criteria.”

I inhaled slowly.

This was my chance—my first real step toward choosing something for myself.

“Mother,” I said, steadying my voice, “I think he is perfect for me.”

The words came naturally, guided by an invisible pull.

“He is exactly the kind of man I want.”

For the first time that day, my mother truly paused.

Her cold eyes softened—just a fraction—as if she was trying to read something new in me.

“He is handsome,” she finally admitted, “but what about his character, Amara?”

“We’ll know when we meet,” I replied softly.

“If I set a date with him.”

That seemed to satisfy her.

“Very well.”

She turned to Helena.

“Miss Stroud, arrange the date.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” Helena said, bowing.

A wide smile bloomed across her face… but there was something else behind it.

Something guarded.

A flicker of tension that vanished too quickly.

“Congratulations, my lady! You found your suitor.”

She clasped my hands with enthusiasm.

I smiled automatically, but part of me was drifting—drawn back to the photo.

Those eyes.

Cold, icy-blue. Yet somehow… magnetic.

He looked like a man carved from winter and fire—dangerous, composed, untouchable.

And yet, I felt pulled to him, as if an invisible thread connected us.

I touched the edges of the photo, holding it carefully, as though the slightest pressure would make him vanish.

Vincent…

His name alone sent a thrill down my spine.

Why did it feel like I already knew him?

Why did it feel like fate whispered his name before I ever did?

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When Helena left, I made my way to the council room. The moment I stepped inside, the calm palace corridors were replaced with a storm.

Rowan and his secretary darted from desk to desk, scrolls and documents scattered everywhere.

“What happened?” I asked, arching a brow.

Rowan looked up; worry shadowed his features.

“Morettia sent someone here,” he said. “We have to meet them right away.”

My heart jolted.

Morettia.

The name of royal family.

I placed a comforting hand on Rowan’s shoulder.

“Relax, brother. We can handle this.”

He groaned dramatically.

“Seriously… lately the Morettis have been a headache.”

I let out a soft laugh—but inside, something deeper stirred.

If the Morettis had come here today…

there was a chance of conflict. But still

A thrill of excitement and fear curled through me.

Something was changing.

Something big.

And I felt it—like the calm before a storm.

❤️‍🔥To be continued...

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