Free Web NovelChapter 96: Chapter 96 Prince Ezekiel
_Author’s POV_
Pierre left the Ashthorne mansion with a blood-stained shirt wrapped in a bag from the kitchen and a mental list that was longer than the one he had arrived with.
He dealt with the shirt first, disposing of it properly and without a record, and then he drove back to his own residence and sat at his desk and started pulling what he could find on the man Rowena had brought to the hospital.
Also, he couldn’t stop trying to figure out what she must have said to Alaric. No matter how hard he tried to deny it. Alaric was a big threat to him. He knew the man had a thing for Rowena and if he decided to openly go for her, then he stood no chance against him. No one did, actually. It bothered him.
The hospital had processed the admission under the details Rowena had provided, which were minimal because she hadn’t had more than that. Male, competition-age, left side injury, high fever, found at the Starlight arena compound.
Pierre looked at the competition registration list.
There were one hundred registered competitors. He went through them methodically, cross-referencing against the withdrawal and non-completion records from the day. Ninety-Two had completed at least one run. Three had withdrawn due to mechanical issues. One had not shown at all after registration. freewebnσvel.cѳm
Registration number forty-one. Alias: E. Crane. No additional documentation beyond the minimum required. No team affiliation. No sponsor.
The vehicle associated with E. Crane had been found partially obstructing the maintenance channel access on the east side of the track, reported by a grounds worker who had thought it was an improperly parked service vehicle and had logged it as a minor infringement rather than an incident.
Pierre stared at the screen.
He arrived at the hospital at seven in the morning.
The administrator directed him to the private room that Rowena’s billing instruction had secured. He knocked and went in.
The man in the bed was awake.
He was sitting up against the pillows with the particular comfortable authority of someone who was accustomed to being in rooms and having the room accommodate them rather than the other way around. The fever had apparently broken during the night because his eyes were clear and sharp and they moved to Pierre the moment he came through the door with the assessing quality of someone who read people quickly and filed the reading.
The man was young. He seemed to be in his mid-twenties at the most. Had dark hair, strong face, the kind of bone structure that photographers arranged lighting around. He definitely looked like some model. Pierre hated models.
He was also, Pierre registered immediately, extraordinarily handsome.
“You’re not a doctor,” the man pointed out, tilting his head slightly.
“No, I’m not.” Pierre replied.
“Good,” he said. “The doctor was here an hour ago and I was rude to him and I’d rather not repeat the experience.” He looked at Pierre with the direct interest of someone who had made a decision about what they thought of you and had decided it was positive. “You’re Alpha Pierre Ashford?”
“Yes,” Pierre said. “And you’re registered as E. Crane, which is not your name.”
The man smiled. It was the smile of someone who found being caught amusing rather than threatening.
“Ezekiel,” he said. “Prince Ezekiel of the Sunridge Crown. But please don’t announce it. I came here specifically to avoid the announcement.”
Pierre stood very still.
Sunridge Crown was not a small territory. It was not a minor title. Prince Ezekiel was the second son of the Sunridge royal family, which meant he had the kind of weight behind him that changed the dynamics of whatever room he was in simply by just being present in it.
He was also known for being difficult, irreverent, and completely unmanageable in formal settings. The reports that crossed regional desks about him tended to be colorful.
“You entered a regional racing competition under a false name? Why?” Pierre asked confused. This type of men were the ones he didn’t like much.
“I do it every year somewhere,” Ezekiel said, completely unbothered. “It’s boring being royal. The cars are more interesting than the meetings.” He tilted his head again. “I assume you’re here because of the person who brought me in.”
“Yes,” Pierre nodded.
“Tell me about them.”
“She wants you to thank her yourself,” Pierre said. “Her name is Rowena. She’s the Marchioness of Ashthorne and she found you in a maintenance channel at the Starlight compound after dark when nobody else had looked. What exactly happened to you?”
Ezekiel stared at him thoughtfully.
“The Marchioness,” he said instead, ignoring the question.
“Yes.”
“Found me?”
“Yes.”
“And brought me here herself?”
“In my car, which now has a cleaned blood stain in the back seat,” Pierre grumbled. “Yes.”
“I can buy you a new car. Three if you want.” Ezekiel smiled.
“No, you little shit.” Pierre growled, feeling frustrated.
Ezekiel leaned back against the pillows and looked at the ceiling with an expression of genuine surprise, which appeared to be an emotion he didn’t experience frequently and wasn’t entirely sure what to do with.
Then he looked back at Pierre with a different type of attention. More direct and personal this time.
“You’re very well put together,” he pointed out.
Pierre blinked. “I’m sorry?”
“For this early in the morning,” Ezekiel said pleasantly. He winked. It was completely deliberate and entirely unashamed. “Sit down. Tell me about this Marchioness of yours.”
“She’s not mine,” Pierre said.
Ezekiel smiled in a way that suggested he had filed that response as interesting.
Pierre sat down and told himself he was here on Rowena’s business and that was the complete extent of what was happening.
“How did you end up in that channel?” Pierre asked again.
Ezekiel looked at the window.
“Someone didn’t want me at the competition,” he said. The light tone had shifted. Just slightly. “That’s all I’ll say about it right now.”
Pierre looked at him carefully.
“Alright,” he said. “Rest. She’ll want to know you’re well.”
Ezekiel looked back at him.
“Will you come back?” he suddenly asked.
It wasn’t flirtatious this time. Just a direct question. But Ezekiel somehow wished he would return. He found Pierre interesting.
Pierre paused at the door and contemplated ignoring the prince. But he sighed and nodded.
“Yes,” he agreed. “I’ll come back.”
