My Fiancé Woke Up Obsessed With My Best Friend

Chapter 7

With a palm as large as a fan, Charles slapped Vanessa hard across the face.

"Vanessa, where did you take my wife?"

Vanessa recoiled, clutching her cheek in shock, staring at him in disbelief.

"Y–Your Highness… how would I know your wife? I just punished some filthy tramp!"

The room fell into stunned silence. Everyone exchanged pale, horrified glances.

Finally, someone had the sense to move, and a path cleared through the crowd.

Charles was only a few meters away, but I didn't even have the strength to lift my head. I lay face down on the floor, blood pooling beneath me, my hand trembling as I reached out toward the sound of his voice.

"Charles… Charles, save our son…"

His eyes widened in shock, disbelief crossing his face as he stepped forward. A blood-soaked figure lay before him—me. My clothes were ripped to shreds, leaving barely any fabric to cover me. My hair clung to my face in sticky, matted clumps of blood.

With trembling hands, Charles gently brushed my hair aside, only to reveal a deep, raw gash running across half my face, the torn flesh still oozing blood.

I forced myself to lift my head, and the motion sent tears and blood streaming down my cheeks.

"Charles… Arthur… save Arthur!"

Charles scooped me into his arms, letting out a roar of fury. He kicked over a banquet table, his voice echoing through the hall.

"Carl! Jessica! Take them down!"

Instantly, dozens of armed guards raised their rifles—not to shoot—but to use them as batons. With brutal force, they began beating Vanessa and Lorenzo, who screamed and writhed on the floor, begging for mercy.

Meanwhile, the old butler had found Arthur, cradling him tightly.

"Young master, please wake up. Forgive this old servant for arriving late…"

A team of doctors rushed to my side with equipment. With practiced precision, they began disinfecting my wounds, stopping the bleeding, and hooking me up to monitors.

Arthur had already been laid onto a medical stretcher, and emergency treatment had begun. Within five minutes, a sterile makeshift operating room had been set up.

Vanessa and Lorenzo were still being beaten, bloodied and sobbing.

But Vanessa, still clinging to her madness, screamed as she tried to crawl toward Charles.

"Your Highness, don't be fooled by that bitch! She's trash—back in school, she hooked up with dozens of guys! How could she ever be worthy of you?"

"She's just a vixen! That child of hers could belong to any random man! She's conning you!"

Lorenzo's face had turned an ashen gray. My identity had been revealed. I had truly become the consort of a French prince.

He couldn't believe it. After just one year away, I had risen so far.

And those letters I'd written—offering comfort, encouragement, and care—what did they mean now?

The truth was, I hadn't known Charles's true identity back then, and I thought Lorenzo truly loved Vanessa. I had wanted to let go, to give them my blessing.

I just hoped he'd find peace, stop obsessing over status, and live well. That was all.

But now, he understood. He was finished.

Completely and utterly ruined.

He had laid his hands on me—assaulted the future crown princess of a European monarchy.

And the consequences would be unforgiving.

Charles held my hand tightly, his voice trembling with emotion.

"Danna… I'm here. Stay strong. We're all waiting for you."

Vanessa had completely lost it. She screamed and thrashed toward Charles again.

"Prince Charles, she's deceiving you! Danna is nothing but a slut! She's just good at playing men!"

"Lorenzo rejected her because he saw her true nature! Look at me—I'm a hundred times better than her! I understand men better than anyone—"

Before she could finish, Charles spun around and kicked her square in the stomach.

This time, he didn't hold back.

Vanessa flew across the room like a ragdoll, crashing into a table with a sickening thud.

Wine glasses and boiling water spilled over her, and she writhed in agony on the floor, screaming.

Charles looked down at her coldly, towering over her like an executioner.

"Didn't you say that was your idea?" he said icily.

"Then you can try it yourself."

"Slash her face. Break her legs and dump her in the slums."