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Chapter 2: A Royal Dilemma (Continued)

Cinderella's phone buzzed with an incoming call, rudely disrupting her inner turmoil. She glanced at the screen, her heart racing with unease, and saw her mother's name flashing in bold letters.

"Hey... I'll call you later, Mom wants to see me," Cinderella said, her voice trembling slightly as she ended the call abruptly. She took a deep breath, her mind racing with apprehension. Her mother's call undoubtedly signaled the impending discussion about marriage, a topic she had skillfully dodged for years.

Ever since her breakup with Harry, Cinderella had sworn off romantic relationships. It had been an irrational decision, one made in the heat of the moment, fueled by a stubborn belief that Harry would come back to beg for her forgiveness. Little did she know that this self-imposed exile from love would stretch on for years.

Cinderella had deluded herself into thinking that the gods had chosen a destined partner for her. She clung to this belief, awaiting the fateful day when love would magically waltz into her life. Her conviction was unwavering, but the harsh reality was that time was slipping away.

Her high school friends, who had once been her confidantes, now regarded her as a pariah. They whispered behind her back, casting judgment upon her. To them, she was nothing more than a fallen angel, a harlot with a tarnished reputation. They had abandoned her without remorse, leaving Cinderella with a bitter taste of loneliness.

As Cinderella stepped out of her opulent room, the younger maids bowed their heads in deep respect. She acknowledged their silent reverence with a faint smile, appreciating their unwavering loyalty.

She finally met her father and mother, and the heavy atmosphere left no room for doubt—her father's intent had finally caught up with her. A conversation she had been dreading for years was about to unfold, and there was no escaping it.

"Good morning, Dad and Mom," Cinderella greeted them with a warm smile, though her heart was pounding.

Her father, an elderly vampire, exuded an air of wisdom. His white beard and bald head, though signs of age, only added to his charismatic aura. He set aside his newspaper, his eyes filled with fatherly concern.

"Morning, daughter," he replied, his voice gentle yet resolute.

He extended his hand towards the coffee cup his wife had prepared earlier that morning.

"Touch this glass cup," he requested.

Cinderella obediently placed her hand on the cup, puzzled by her father's cryptic gesture. She couldn't fathom the significance of this simple act but sensed that it held deeper meaning.

"It's cold, Dad," Cinderella replied, her patience wearing thin.

Her father set the glass cup of coffee back on the table, his expression tinged with sadness. Her mother, a stunning woman in her late fifties, retained a timeless beauty that Cinderella had inherited. Their boldness was a shared trait, passed down through the generations.

"I understand that, Cinderella. Life is like this cup of coffee. It starts hot but cools down over time. You are hot now, in the prime of your life, and this is the moment to find the best husband for yourself before you cool down," her father explained, his words carrying the weight of wisdom.

"You can't grow old, my dear, but you can change, and those around you can change too. When all your potential suitors have settled down, who will be left for you?" he inquired, his gaze penetrating her soul.

Cinderella struggled to find the right words to respond, her heart heavy with a growing realization.

"No one," her father answered for her, a melancholic sigh escaping his lips. "You see, you should get yourself married. That's all I wanted to say."

With those profound words, he rose from his seat, picked up his newspaper, and made his way upstairs, leaving Cinderella to wrestle with her inner demons.

Cinderella was left in the wake of her father's heartfelt plea, the weight of his expectations pressing down on her. Her mother approached, her gaze filled with maternal concern.

"Listen to what your father said, my dear. He loves and cherishes you deeply, which is why he spoke those words," her mother implored, her voice tender. "We have a name to uphold—the Johnny family has been the richest vampire dynasty in the kingdom for generations. Please, consider getting married."

With a heavy heart and a troubled mind, Cinderella covered her face with her hands, her emotions a turbulent storm within her.

Meanwhile, in the bustling streets of Miami, Harry, the second-born of the vampire king, emerged from his car. He was armed with a gun, a knife secured to his belt, and his trusty phone in hand. Harry's heart remained wounded from his high school days, when Cinderella had abruptly severed their relationship. In the intervening years, he had remained single, disinterested in pursuing the throne that was rightfully his.

"Hey, Daniel, how's everything back home?" Harry inquired, his voice tinged with genuine concern as he spoke into his phone.

"Bad," Daniel replied, his tone heavy with worry.

"What's happening?" Harry probed, his concern growing.

"Our father is gravely ill, and all our efforts to restore his health have been in vain," Daniel explained, his voice trembling with uncertainty.

"That's terrible! You'd better consider getting married soon, or things won't be easy," Harry advised, his mind racing with thoughts of the impending crisis.

Of course the two them were never friends. They never love themselves by any means. It's always drama one after the other.

Since Harry had been treated like he is the bad son here.

He had never cared about coming home at the right moment, he just want to be happy and feel safe again.

But their father been sick and can't stand up from his sick bed makes the whole pack troubles a lot, thinking of who might become the next alpha of their pack

"What do you mean?" Daniel asked, his alpha status within the pack evident in his commanding presence.