Page 73 of Matched with the Grumpy Secret Prince

BREAKING NEWS: PRINCE GRAHAM ALEXANDER MAKES RARE APPEARANCE AT HIS BROTHER’S CORONATION.

ALVERIA’S MISSING PRINCE RETURNS AFTER SEVEN YEARS.

ROYALTY IN AMERICA? REPORTS CONFIRM PRINCE GRAHAM HAS BEEN LIVING A SECRET LIFE IN SMALL-TOWN KENTUCKY.

I swear under my breath. My stomach drops. The one thing I managed to keep hidden for seven years has finally come to light. Everyone knows who I really am now.

The photos are everywhere—Isaac in his coronation robes, my parents seated in the royal box, and right next to them—me.

The same me who has spent years making sure no one in Bardstown ever knew who I truly was.

And now?

They all do.

I shove my phone back in my pocket, trying to keep my expression neutral, but it’s too late. The damage is done.

The whispers grow louder. Someone snaps a picture.

And just like that, my entire world shifts.

I turn on my heel and rush back to my truck to head home. When I pull into my driveway, my pulse is still pounding.

The moment at the café still lingers—the stares, the whispers, the realization that my cover is completely blown.

I step out of the truck, my body tense, running through what this means. I spent seven years making sure no one knew my past,that my life in Bardstown stayed separate from the title I had abandoned. And now—just like that—it’s all out in the open.

I go inside, locking the door behind me and running a hand through my hair. I need a second to think. To breathe. To figure out what I do next.

But I don’t even get the chance.

Because as soon as I turn around, there’s a knock on the door.

My chest tightens when I hear the noise. I wonder who it could be. No one ever comes to my place unannounced. Not unless?—

I pull open the door.

And my breath catches.

Sophie.

She’s standing right there, her face flushed like she ran here, her brows knit together in pure concern.

“Have you seen the news?” she blurts out, slightly breathless.

I swallow hard, nodding once. “Yeah. I have.”

She exhales, shaking her head. “Graham, everyone in Bardstown knows. The café, the bar, the bookstore—everywhere. People are talking and asking questions. The town is buzzing with it.” She looks up at me, searching my face. “Are you… are you going to leave?”

The question makes my chest ache.

Because once upon a time, I would have.

Seven years ago, I ran from the castle when the pressure became too much. A month ago, I ran from Sophie the second I realized my feelings for her were real.

But I’m done running.

I shake my head. “No.” My voice is firm. Certain. “I’m tired of running, Sophie.”

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