Dangerous opportunity

DANGEROUS OPPORTUNITY

I flag down the first taxi that slows, practically waving it to a stop. The moment the doors shut behind me, I collapse slightly into the seat, letting the hum of the engine pull me into a shaky rhythm.

My thoughts spiral uncontrollably, looping back to that day with Mia, how she’d been scrolling through her phone, animated, talking endlessly about a luxurious royal wedding she’d spotted online.

I shiver at the memory, pressing my palm against my forehead as a dull headache spreads across my temples.

I lean against the window, letting the cool breeze brush across my face. It does little to calm the storm inside me.

The taxi glides through familiar streets, and for a brief moment, I let myself sink into silence, counting each passing lamppost, trying to piece together what comes next.

When we finally pull up at the apartment, I hand the driver the fare, avoiding his eyes, and push open the door, eager to tell my best friend everything I discovered.

I step inside, scanning the living room. It’s empty. Silence greets me. My stomach twists with curiosity and a little irritation, Mia isn’t lounging with her laptop or her books, nowhere in sight. Shrugging, I head toward her room.

I freeze at the doorway.

There she is, sprawled across her bed, completely absorbed, hands moving, eyes half-closed… using a vibrator.

“Fuck, girl! Seriously?!” I blurt, and she jerks upright, flushing scarlet, eyes wide with shock.

“Shit! I didn’t know you were back!” she yells, scrambling to cover herself with the blanket.

I shake my head, half in disbelief, half in amusement. “Wash yourself up before you join me in the sitting room!” I snap, stepping back with a sigh.

Mia groans, shoving the blanket around her, mumbling excuses, but I don’t wait to listen. I turn and stride past her, letting the door click shut behind me.

I collapse onto the couch, the cushions swallowing me in their familiarity. The hum of the city outside mingles with my thoughts, reminding me of everything I have to deal with now, everything I’m too scared to face.

And yet, for a brief second, just sitting here, I allow myself to breathe.

I sit on the couch, trying to make sense of the chaos in my head. Mia eventually emerges from her room, wrapped in a towel, still flustered.

“You’re overreacting,” she mutters, shaking her head. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Overreacting? Girl, you saw with eyes doing… that… on your bed!”

She groans dramatically. “I was—fine, fine! Don’t look at me like that.”

I can’t help but smirk, despite everything. For a moment, the tension eases, though just slightly.

Mia flops beside me, pulling her phone from her bag. “So, what’s going on? You’ve been out all day, acting like someone stole your brain.”

I glance at her, debating how much to reveal. “I… saw something. On the news, or online… about a royal wedding.”

Her eyes light up. “Oh! I told you about that! You didn’t see it yet?”

I nod grimly, my stomach twisting. “I saw him. The man from that night. He’s the groom. And—” I stop, my voice barely above a whisper.

Mia freezes. Her jaw drops. “Wait… what?”

I fold my arms across my stomach, my mind spinning faster than ever. “Yes. His child. And he’s… married.”

The color drains from her face. “You mean… the king?”

I bite my lip. “Yes. The king.”

For a moment, neither of us speaks. Then Mia leans back, fanning her face dramatically. “Oh… girl. Fuck. This is… this is huge. Like… life-shattering huge.”

I bury my face in my hands. “I don’t even know where to start.”

Mia shoots up from the couch so fast I flinch. Her towel nearly slips, but she grabs it and squeals like someone just handed her a lifetime supply of diamonds.

I blink at her, stunned. “Why the hell are you excited? I’m literally in doom.”

She spins toward me, eyes blazing with pure madness and joy. “Mel, are you serious right now? This is the BEST news ever!” She clasps her hands under her chin dramatically.

"My best friend is pregnant… for a king. A whole king. And possibly carrying the future heir to the throne!”

I stare at her, unamused. “Mia, be serious. I’m in trouble. Big trouble. How am I supposed to walk up to a king—A KING—and tell him I’m pregnant with his child?” My voice cracks.

I fold my arms tightly across my chest. “I checked social media already. His name is King Adrian Athenora. Married. To some princess from another royal line. And me? I’m… nobody. A poor girl who works shifts to survive.”

Mia’s excitement slows, settling into something calmer… sharper. She drops back onto the couch as if an idea just snapped into place inside her head. Her expression shifts from overjoyed friend to calculating genius in half a second.

“What now?” I ask cautiously.

She leans forward. “Mel… listen. Your brother called you two days ago, remember? Your dad’s health is getting worse.

And what did you do? You sent every single thing you earned from the hotel. You’ve been breaking your back with those shifts, saving whatever you can.”

I swallow, looking down. The memory stings.

She continues, “You need money. Not pocket change, real money. Life-saving money. And you can’t keep doing these little jobs. You need help. And this…” She points at my stomach. “This is not a curse. This is your opportunity.”

I blink. “Are you hearing yourself?”

“Yes.” She grips my shoulders. “And you need to hear me. You didn’t trap anyone. You didn’t plan anything. This happened. And guess what? Kings don’t just walk around having secret babies.

If he got you pregnant, then he has responsibilities. A royal bloodline isn’t something they ignore.”

“Mia—”

“No, let me finish,” she cuts in, eyes blazing. “You are carrying a royal child. And whether he’s married or not, he needs to know. He can’t bury that. And you? You need support. Emotional, medical, and financial.”

I shake my head, overwhelmed. “But how do I even reach him? He’s surrounded by security, by royals, by protocol. You can’t just knock on a palace door.”

Mia smirks like she’s been waiting for that question.

“That,” she says proudly, “is where my idea comes in.”

I narrow my eyes. “I’m afraid to ask.”