MY PRINCE HUSBAND HAS SEVEN WIVES AND I AM HIS FAVOURITE!
Chapter 152: A deal with the devil

Chapter 152: A deal with the devil

In the midst of the falling rain, where two souls had finally found each other, another pair of eyes burned with resentment.

From the shadows, hidden behind the columns of the grand hall, a woman stood with her fists clenched so tightly that her nails dug into her palms.

Her breath came in uneven bursts, her chest rising and falling with barely restrained fury.

The Seventh Consort.

That woman.

Hua Jing.

The woman who had stolen everything from her.

The First Consort’s lips trembled as she watched the scene before her—Zhao Yan holding Hua Jing in his arms, whispering words of devotion, wiping away her tears as though she were the most precious thing in his world.

Why?

She had been at Zhao Yan’s side first. She had entered the palace with dignity, bestowed upon him as his first consort, the one who should have stood at his right side forever.

Yet—

In all these years, he had never looked at her like that.

He had never once held her hand, let alone embraced her the way he did with that woman.

She bit her lip so hard she nearly drew blood.

How could he?

How could he humiliate her like this?

She wanted to move.

She needed to move.

She wanted to march forward, rip Hua Jing away from him, scream, cry, do something—

But before she could take a single step, something cold wrapped around her waist.

Her breath caught.

A strong hand slid across her stomach, pulling her back against an unfamiliar body.

A shadow loomed behind her, a presence as dangerous as it was suffocating.

And then—

A deep, taunting voice brushed against her ear.

"You seem troubled, My Lady."

The First Consort stiffened, her body going rigid.

That voice.

Her heart pounded, a different kind of fear lacing her veins.

She knew this man.

That night...

The night she had been given a choice.

The night this damned man had cornered her and whispered things that should never have been spoken.

She gritted her teeth, her hands trembling as she tried to push him away. "What do you want?" she demanded.

The man chuckled, a dry, amused sound.

"Still holding on?" he mused. His grip around her waist did not tighten, nor did he move closer—but the sheer weight of his presence made it impossible for her to escape.

The First Consort swallowed hard.

He was dangerous.

She had always known this.

And yet, she had thought that after she had made her choice that night, after she had chosen her path—

He would disappear.

Yet here he was.

A shadow at her back, whispering poison into her ears.

She clenched her jaw.

"It’s none of your concern," she snapped.

But the man only laughed, low and dark.

"It is clearly my concern," he murmured, resting his chin lightly on her shoulder. "That’s why I’m here."

A shiver crawled down her spine.

Not from desire—never from desire—but from the danger lurking beneath his every movement.

She tried to shake him off, but he was stronger.

His grip was firm, unmoving, like iron shackles keeping her in place.

She struggled harder. "Let go of me."

But he didn’t.

Instead—

He turned her face ever so slightly, forcing her to watch.

To see.

To witness the way Zhao Yan’s fingers trailed over Hua Jing’s skin, the way he leaned in so close their foreheads touched, the way he devoured her with his eyes, as though she were the only thing in the world that mattered.

The First Consort’s stomach twisted violently.

I can’t watch this.

She squeezed her eyes shut, but the man’s voice cut through her defenses like a blade.

"It seems," he said softly, "the Crown Prince has already chosen his Empress after all."

The words hit her harder than they should have.

Like an arrow piercing straight through her heart.

No.

No, no, no.

She was the First Consort.

She had been with him from the beginning.

She had endured everything for him.

She had devoted everything to him.

Yet now—

Now, he was standing in the rain, holding another woman, gazing at her like she was the only woman who had ever existed.

Her vision blurred with fury.

Her fingers trembled.

She wanted to rip them apart.

But the man behind her—

His grip was still there.

Still solid.

Still unrelenting.

And then—

His hand moved.

Slowly.

Unhurriedly.

Trailing lightly across her body, tracing along her hip, his touch lingering just long enough to make her entire body stiffen in alarm.

She gasped.

"What do you think you’re doing?" she hissed, panic flashing through her.

The man’s lips curved into a slow, cruel smile.

"Who do you think you’re saving yourself for?" he asked, voice a soft purr.

The First Consort froze.

"You think Zhao Yan still wants you?" The mockery in his voice was unbearable. "Look at him. Really look."

She didn’t want to look.

She couldn’t.

But she already knew what she would see.

Zhao Yan had never been hers.

Not even once.

Not even for a moment.

And now, it was even clearer than before.

He belonged to Hua Jing.

The Seventh Consort.

She swallowed hard, her hands trembling at her sides.

The man leaned in closer, his breath ghosting against her ear.

"How about a different path?" he murmured.

She stiffened.

"A path where you don’t have to beg for scraps of affection," he continued, his voice silken and smooth, like a serpent winding its way around her.

Her throat was dry.

"You..." she whispered, barely able to get the words out. "You’re suggesting—"

He laughed softly.

"Why remain beneath someone who doesn’t want you?" His tone was lazy, but the offer beneath it was sharp as a dagger. "Why not rise above him?"

The First Consort’s heart pounded.

"You could still be Empress," he murmured. "The throne could still be yours."

Her breath shuddered.

Becoming Empress had always been her dream.

Her greatest ambition.

But more than that—

More than anything—

She had wanted him.

She had wanted Zhao Yan’s love.

And now, she could see it—clearer than ever.

That dream had been crushed.

Pulverized.

Destroyed.

She had nothing.

And this man—

This dangerous, terrifying man—

Was offering her a different future.

Her hands clenched at her sides.

Her entire world was collapsing around her.

And then—

He let her go.

Stepped back.

And held out his hand.

His expression was unreadable, but his golden eyes gleamed with something dark.

"Take my hand," he said simply.

"And everything will become yours."

Search the lightnovelworld.cc website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.