Claimed by the Prince of Darkness

Chapter 37: Queen removing the Bishop

The carriage rolled to a gentle stop in front of the Belmont residence, the soft rumble of the wheels fading into the quiet of the afternoon. The horses snorted, their breaths misting in the cool air as Caroline and Ezekiel stepped down.

Caroline smiled brightly. The weight of her arm hooked through Ezekiel’s felt like a prize, as though she had captured something rare and precious.

"Hello, Caroline!" Mrs. Finch, the Belmonts’ neighbour, waved from her garden across the street.

Caroline’s smile widened, her chest swelling with pride. "That’s Mrs. Henley now, Mrs. Finch," she corrected, casting a smug glance at her husband.

"My apologies, Mrs. Henley!" Mrs. Finch chuckled. "I thought you two would be off on your honeymoon! What brings you back so soon?"

Caroline’s smile faltered for only a second before she regained her composure. "Zeke thought it’d be nice to check on the family first," she explained, squeezing his arm. "Make sure they’re doing well."

She had imagined something entirely different for their first days as husband and wife—something more romantic, more intimate. But Ezekiel had remained distant since their wedding, and she still hadn’t shared a bed with him. The thought tugged at her, and though she kept up appearances, disappointment gnawed at the edges of her mind.

Caroline was happy to show off her new dress she wore, though it was tighter than she had expected it to be. What she didn’t know was that all those beautiful clothes in her mansion had been made for her older sister, not her.

Ezekiel’s mind was far from their newlywed life. His eyes were fixed on the Belmont house, scanning the windows and door, looking for any sign of her—Ruelle. His heartbeat quickened at the thought of her, his obsession pulling him back to that night, the feel of her in his arms. She had denied it was her, but he was sure it was her.

"A shame, though," Mrs. Finch interrupted, "Mr. and Mrs. Belmont aren’t home. They left to visit some relatives right after the wedding, and the house has been locked up since. Even Ruelle hasn’t been back."

off, barely listening. She replied carelessly, "Oh, that’s right. Ruelle did say she wouldn’t be visiting

only this simpleton had mentioned that earlier, he thought, I wouldn’t have wasted my time here. His

unfortunate. I would have liked

alone. Caroline let out a light laugh, tugging playfully at Ezekiel’s sleeve. "We can always catch up with them later. Besides," she added with a

patience. She was in the way. He had tolerated this marriage out of necessity, but Caroline was nothing more than an obstacle to be dealt with when the time was right. Removing

edging towards petulance. "You’ve barely spent any time with me since

lock of hair behind her ear, letting his fingers linger just long enough to make her blush. He replied, "I’ve been

vanishing. "Good," she said, leading him towards the house. "I can’t wait to

room. "What do you think?" she

with little interest. Feminine, fragile. His gaze caught something across the room,

shared this room with Ruelle, didn’t you?" he asked, his voice casual, though his

nodded, oblivious to his shifting attention. "I did. But now that she’s at Sexton and I’m married, Mother thought

she didn’t even watch me walk down the aisle? My own sister!" she huffed, her self-centredness bubbling to

on a small, crumpled handkerchief on the vanity. He moved closer, noticing the faint lipstick stain on the fabric. It was Ruelle’s. With quiet precision, he slipped

of irritation and self-importance. "Honestly, I think Sexton has made her worse. It’s as if she’s stopped caring about being part of the family. I mean, look at me! Married, moving on

slipping easily into place. "She’ll come around," he said smoothly. "And if not, I’ll help

into him with a contented sigh. She said, "I’m so lucky

smile never wavered, though his thoughts remained cold and distant. Lucky? Caroline was only another hurdle in his way. A charade he would soon end. But for now, he played the role of the devoted husband, as his fingers brushed over the handkerchief in

how to get Ruelle out of Lucian Slater’s room. It had only been a week, but he