My Unchosen Ex Chases Reborn Me (Soren and Fiona) novel Chapter 165

Chapter 165 Sealed Pearl Terrace

Chapter 165 Sealed Pearl Terrace

“What’s wrong?” Yolanda asked, already jumpy, her voice thin with dread.

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Before Fiona could answer, the sea of patrons rippled with sudden alarm–chairs scraped, whispers shot like sparks, tension thickened the air.

“Royal Guard business–stand where you are! No one leaves Pearl Terrace tonight. Anyone who tries will be treated as a fugitive!”

Yolanda squeezed Fiona’s hand so hard her knuckles blanched. “What just happened?” she whispered, heart pounding loud enough to drown the clamor.

Fiona kept her tone steady. “Don’t be afraid,” she said, steering Yolanda up the narrow staircase toward the private boxes.

I can’t risk seeking out Dr. Murren. One visit can expose him and ruin us both. Harriet must have delivered my message to Soren. Paranoid as ever, he’ll have his people tailing me–and Zephyr is one of them. Zephyr won’t harm an ally. Right now, they’re tracking my every move. If Zephyr arrests me and tortures me, I might spill secrets about Soren that he doesn’t yet know. Suspicion would poison their own ranks. So Soren’s men will never let Zephyr walk me out of here in chains.

Mid–stride, Fiona froze, boots skidding on the polished planks.

“Fiona?” Yolanda gasped, breathless and confused.

Below, the thud of Royal Guard boots echoed up the stairwell, growing closer with every heartbeat.

A fine sheen of cold sweat broke across Fiona’s back. She was gambling, and she knew it; there were no guarantees her reasoning would prove right.

“If we’re discovered, what about the Niven family’s name?” Yolanda’s voice trembled. “You aren’t married yet–you can’t afford even a whisper of scandal. Say I dragged you here to beg for medicine. Let them scold me–my reasons are my own, and your brother will understand. Better I bear the blame than you.”

Fiona kept her lips sealed, eyes darting across the ransacked chamber as if hunting for an exit no one else could see. The moment Quentin’s tall frame cut through the doorway haze, she stilled–hope and urgency tightening together inside her chest.

Zephyr’s guards have ringed the place, Quentin said, voice low and brisk. “I can sneak out only one of you.”

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Chapter 165 Sealed Pearl Terrace

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Without hesitation, Fiona guided Yolanda forward, her palm firm between the other woman’s shoulder blades. “Take Yolanda home first,” she told Quentin, her tone crisp as breaking glass. “Then send for Lord Soren at once. I might crack under torture, and I refuse to gamble with loose lips.”

Viper. Quentin cursed inwardly. Even now, she maneuvers everyone else to shield her while Lord Soren cleans up her mess.

“Fiona, no!” Yolanda protested, worry thrumming through every syllable.

“Yolanda, your presence will only slow me down,” Fiona answered, sharper than usual, the edge of real peril thinning her patience.

Yolanda faltered. Quentin wasted no more time, clasped her wrist, and vanished down the corridor with her before a second objection could form.

Below, the tramp of Royal Guard boots rose like thunder rolling up a stairwell—closer, louder, inevitable.

Fiona pivoted toward Sterling’s private suite. If the patron behind that masked man carried true power, Zephyr might hesitate–long enough for Soren to arrive.

Chaos reigned downstairs, yet Sterling reclined by a lacquered tea table, sipping as serenely as a scholar in his study. When the door flew open, he offered her only a lazy sideways glance.

“I wonder what does the Sixth Prince hope to find tonight?” Fiona asked, deliberately dropping Zephyr’s title into the air and watching for the smallest flicker of alarm.

Sterling regarded her with placid eyes over the rim of his cup and said nothing.

Relief loosened her shoulders. “Would you grant me a favor? Lie with me a while. I’ll pay handsomely for the trouble.”

If Zephyr burst in, he would never subject a lady’s bed to detailed scrutiny.

“Very well,” Sterling replied, calm as a winter lake.

“Convincingly,” she murmured, cheeks warming despite the danger.

Mm.

Pushing past her blush, Fiona climbed onto the canopy bed, the gauze curtains rippling with the night breeze.

Sterling untied his sash at an unhurried pace, unveiling a sculpted torso–broad shoulders

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