Chapter 9
Lucian’s POV
Scarlett moved efficiently, serving our food with a practised ease, her face blank and unreadable. When she finished, she stood quietly, waiting. We made sure to eat every last bite, leaving nothing for her. I wanted her to break, to see her hunger force her to beg, to maké her realise that her every need depended on us.
“Take the plates to the kitchen and return here,” Maxwell commanded, his voice cold. She gathered the plates in silence, never once meeting our gaze, her mouth set in a hard line. It was obvious she was trying to appear tough, and I could already feel the satisfaction of knowing that her facade would soon crack. She’d learn that defiance had no place here.
“You have fifteen minutes,” I added sharply as she left. She didn’t even nod, didn’t acknowledge the order. When she returned five minutes late, her eyes were swollen and red. She’d probably found some quiet corner to cry, and though she’d tried to hide it, her
tear–streaked face revealed the truth.
I felt a flicker of smug satisfaction–already, her spirit was beginning to show cracks. Clay, of course, insisted on patience, but I knew better. Compared to her father, we were showing restraint. She should be grateful.
I stood, speaking slowly and clearly. “Here are your duties: You will clean our room and the rest of the apartment, do our laundry, arrange our wardrobes, and serve our meals.
You are here to serve us, and you will remain in our presence unless we permit you otherwise. If we go our separate ways, one of us will instruct you on where to be. If no one does, you’ll return to this room and wait. There will be no socialising. You are not to talk to anyone. And if you steal anything else, you will be dealt with mercilessly. Know this: we will never claim you because you are already tainted.”
She just stood there, silent as a statue, her face a careful mask. Her silence was no longer defiant; I could see a new weariness settling over her. But I didn’t care. Her father had left a trail of destruction throughout each of our lives. She owed us her obedience, her complete and unflinching submission. This was her debt to us, and we intended to collect every last piece of it.
“Are we clear?” I demanded, watching her closely, ready to seize on any sign of defiance. She gave a slight nod, but it wasn’t enough.
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Chapter 9
“Answer me properly!” I yelled, my voice filling the room. Her expression shifted, and for the first time, I saw the fear in her eyes, mingled with anger she couldn’t entirely mask. That flicker of resentment, so deeply hidden beneath her hesitation, stirred something darkly satisfying in me. She knew she had no choice.
“Yes…Alpha,” she murmured, each word dragged out as if they weighed more than she could bear. The fear was evident, but there was something else too–a bitterness that
made me pause, though I quickly shoved it aside.
“Go to the living room,” I ordered, watching her as she left. The moment she thought she was out of earshot, I heard her release a small, almost relieved sigh.
Once she was gone, Clay spoke up, his tone more thoughtful. “Did you notice how well she made the beds and served the food?” He’d picked up on what I’d already noticed, and
I nodded.
“Yes, I did.” I waited, sensing he had more to say.
“I think we should take it easy on her…” Clay suggested, his voice gentle. Maxwell’s expression darkened immediately, anger flashing in his eyes.
“No!” Maxwell snapped, his voice like iron. Clay, sensing he’d crossed a line, raised his
hands in surrender, dropping the subject.
The moment lingered, tense but unspoken. We each knew what we’d come here to do, and
the time for softness had long since passed.
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sometimes tge Alpha’s are so blinded by revenge they miss what’s right in front of them. the regret they’re going to have is theirs alone to bare.
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