Page 71 of Matched with the Grumpy Secret Prince

“My real name is Graham Alexander Montgomery.” He exhales, his voice heavy like this weight has been sitting on his chest for too long. “I had to leave abruptly because my parents—the king and queen of Alveria—almost lost their lives. I am the prince of Alveria. I left home seven years ago.”

I blink.

No.

No, that—that doesn’t make sense.

I let out a breathy, incredulous laugh. “You’re joking.”

He doesn’t smile. Doesn’t move. Just waits.

And that’s when it hits me.

He’s serious.

My stomach flips, and my mind races, trying to understand what he’s saying.

“You’re telling me…” I shake my head, unable to believe it. “You’re a prince?”

“Yes.”

I stare at him, my pulse roaring in my ears. This is wild.

“You should have told me… at least about your parents. About why you had to leave,” I whisper, shocked at the sheer weight of it all.

“I know.” His voice is low, regretful. “I should have. But I left that life behind, Sophie. I never wanted my title to define me. I never wanted to bring that into… into this.” His gaze darkens. “Into us.”

Us.

The word makes my throat tighten.

I step back, feeling a bit unsteady, my heart pounding. “I—I need time.”

“Sophie—”

“I can’t—” I exhale, shaking my head, overwhelmed. “I can’t just—process all of this right now. You disappear for a month, and then you come back and tell me you’re a prince?” I let out a dry laugh. “I need space, Graham.”

He studies me for a long moment before nodding slowly.

“I understand.”

And then—he leaves.

Just like that.

This time, I don’t stop him. For a month, I agonized over Graham’s sudden leaving, and today, he’s back, but the confusion he’s left within me is even far more than when he left.

When I get home, my head is still spinning.

I push open the door, barely stepping inside before Mia practically tackles me.

“Oh my gosh, there you are!” She shoves her phone in my face, eyes wide with pure shock. “Have you seen the news?”

I blink, still trying to process everything that just happened. “What?”

Mia doesn’t answer. She tilts the phone toward me, her hand trembling slightly.

And there it is.

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