THE DISGRACED HUSBAND IS A HIDDEN PRINCE

Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven: The Museum Meeting

Alexander Petrov’s POV

Alexander had been tracking Isabella since the dinner party. Not physically—he wasn’t that reckless. But through the estate’s security feeds. Through her phone’s GPS that Katerina had quietly tagged months ago.

For protection, he’d told himself. In case his uncle’s men made a move.

But tonight, as he watched her car pull away from the estate at 11:47 PM, heading toward the abandoned museum district, he knew this wasn’t about protection.

This was about the text message.

The one from the unknown number. The one that said: “Your husband is not who he claims to be. Meet me tomorrow if you want to know the truth.”

Except ‘tomorrow’ was now tonight. And Isabella was going to meet whoever sent it.

“Fuck.” Alexander grabbed his jacket. “Dmitri, I’m heading out.”

“At midnight? Where—”

“The old museum. Isabella’s meeting someone.”

Dmitri’s expression darkened. “Could be a trap.”

“I know. That’s why I’m going.”

He took the bike instead of the car. Faster. Quieter. By the time he reached the museum district, Isabella’s car was already parked outside the old Heritage Museum—a building that had been condemned for years.

Alexander parked two blocks away. Moved on foot.

He had surveillance equipment in his jacket. Katerina had designed it specifically for situations like this—miniature cameras, directional microphones, all synced to his phone.

He planted two cameras on the museum’s exterior. Angled them toward the entrance. Set up the audio feed.

Then he waited.

Isabella stood at the entrance for a long moment, her phone’s flashlight cutting through the darkness. She was hesitating. Smart. This was dangerous and she knew it.

But she knocked anyway.

The door opened from inside. An elderly woman’s voice: “Come on in, child.”

Isabella disappeared inside.

Alexander pulled up the audio feed on his phone. The cameras couldn’t see inside, but the microphones could pick up everything.

“I didn’t really expect you to come, given the time you were sent.”

“Who are you? And what do you want from me?” Isabella’s voice was sharp. On guard.

“I’m Madam Orlova. I’m a former member of the Valdorian royal court.”

Alexander’s blood ran cold.

Madam Orlova.

His mother’s lady-in-waiting. The woman who’d helped him escape during the coup. She’d disappeared after that—he’d assumed she was dead.

But here she was. Talking to his wife.

“And what I’m about to tell you will change your life. It’s a matter of life and death, but that depends on how you decide to take this information I’m about to share.”

Alexander’s jaw clenched. Don’t do this, Orlova. Don’t blow my cover.

“Alright. I’m all ears.”

“Would you like to sit down for this? It’s going to be a long one.”

“I’m okay this way. Go on.”

Through the audio feed, Alexander heard the rustling of fabric. Orlova sitting down.

“There was a crown prince whose story wasn’t like any other. He survived a brutal coup at an early age and has been in hiding since then, building strategic resistance against the people who would do anything to kill him the moment they see him alive.”

Isabella’s voice: “Okay…”

“He’s from a royal family but he lost his parents and everything in the coup. Do you know that he’s currently married into the Summers family?”

Silence.

Then: “My own family? Who is it? I don’t think I know of any displaced persons though. And how’s this got to do with me?”

Alexander closed his eyes. Here it comes.

“Just listen. He married into the Summers family and it’s not coincidental or random, everything he has been doing is strategic. He needs to get close to the Circle of Crowns, and you all are the perfect family for that.”

“Okay…”

“Like you rightly said, he’s married into the Summers family.” A pause. “That’s your husband, Isabella. Alexander Petrov. Crown Prince of Valdoria.”

Silence.

Long, heavy silence.

Alexander’s heart hammered in his chest. He watched the museum entrance, waiting for Isabella to come running out. Waiting for her to panic.

But she didn’t.

Finally, Isabella’s voice came through the feed, shaky but controlled. “This… This isn’t true.”

“That’s your husband, isn’t it?” Orlova’s voice was gentle. “The refugee. The man your family treats like he’s worthless.”

“He’s the one.”

“He’s in danger.” Orlova continued. “There’s an assassin moving closer to him than anyone can even realize because his network has been compromised. I’m not sure your husband knows this.”

“What do you mean?”

“There’s a woman. His sister, actually. Elena Petrov. She survived the coup too, but she’s been captured by his uncle. They’ve turned her into a weapon. Her only mission is to kill him.”

Alexander’s fists clenched. Orlova knew about Elena.

“Why are you telling me all of these? And I ask again, how do you know me?”

“That’s not important now. I’m telling you because you’re his wife, and you have a choice to make. You can decide to divorce him and live a safe life like your family wishes, or you can stand beside him in what’s coming and possibly die for a country that isn’t even yours.”

Alexander heard Isabella’s breath catch through the audio feed.

“I don’t understand. If he’s a prince, why has he been letting my family—”

“Because he’s hiding. Because showing his true power would blow his cover. Because he’s been building an army in the shadows, and he can’t do that if everyone knows who he is.”

Orlova’s phone suddenly pinged. Alexander heard her sharp intake of breath.

“What is it?” Isabella’s voice was tight with alarm.

“They’ve found him. Alexander is under attack at the warehouse—right now.”

Alexander’s phone buzzed. Text from Dmitri:

“Ghost is here. Elena too. We need backup NOW.”

Fuck.

Alexander was already running toward his bike when he heard Isabella’s voice through the audio feed:

“Where is the warehouse? I’m going there.”

“No, child, it’s too dangerous—”

“WHERE IS IT?”

Orlova gave her the address.

Alexander gunned the bike’s engine. He had maybe a five-minute head start on Isabella.

And when he got there, he’d be walking into a warzone.