The billionaire princess

Running wasn't something princesses did, but Eliana Packer didn't care she sprinted, clutching her dress tight, gasping for air, her shoes clacking on stone floors so loud it felt like the walls were judging her every step.

She kept going till the council gates loomed up, big and solid, streaked with golden lines showing how strong Bisonia once was. That gold came from deep underground. It was pulled free through pain and duty. Her kin grew unshakable because of it ,so her path ahead couldn't be changed.

There he was, sitting - her dad had been waiting inside.

Desmond Packer loomed at the front of the room, arms folded tight behind him, body stiff - like someone used to getting their way without argument, and expecting nothing less today. No crown on his head. Didn't matter. Power just stayed close, as it belonged to him by habit.

"You're running behind," Desmond Packer remarked.

Eliana tilted her head slightly. "Got held up," she said

"By choice," he replied calmly. "As always."

The council sat quietly. Their eyes pressed down on Eliana, heavy as stone. Born the sole girl of the Packer bloodline, she carried the final claim to Bisonia's crown. Over time, she realised - she wasn't seen as someone real, just an issue needing fixing.

"You know why you are here," her father continued.

"Yes."

"Then do not waste our time."

Eliana tilted her head up. "So you're after a successor."

Desmond nodded once. "Bisonia requires continuity. Stability. You are twenty-six, Eliana. You have avoided your responsibility long enough."

"My responsibility is to rule," she said. "Not to breed."

A hush moved across the room. His eyes narrowed - something had changed.

"Mind your language."

"Stay out of my business," she shot back without thinking.

Quiet became heavy, tense. It hung there like a held breath.

"You will marry," Desmond Packer said, each word measured. "You will produce an heir. Or the council will begin preparing alternatives."

Options. Relatives by blood. Far-off family links. Any guy tough yet flexible enough to step into her shoes.

Eliana dipped her head,fighting back wasn't worth the price. She spun away, stepping out just as the air grew tight around her.

She stayed away from her room.

Instead, she descended.

Beneath the palace spread a network of ancient tunnels crumbling passages where miners chased gold, shut off from sight, ignored by most, known only to people running away. The scent hung thick: rust, grit, whispers locked underground too long to ever fade.

He waited where the glow faded.

Lucien Vale stood up when she came near - neat as ever, even below ground, his fitted coat clean despite the dirt stuck to the walls and old bricks. Chief exec. Global dealmaker. Firms running where Bisonia acted blindly. The press called him cocky. People generally saw charm.

Dangerous, that's what Dad'd mutter - assuming he found out.

"You look like someone just tightened the noose," Lucien said.

"They did," Eliana replied. "Officially."

His face went