Desired By Three Alphas; Fated To One Chapter 173: How To Pay

Hailee’s POV

My brow furrowed. "Another way?" I asked, my voice trembling.

Nathan nodded once. "Yes... another way. You have to pay back." His tone was flat, cold, as if every word was carved from ice. He leaned back in his chair, stretching out, his eyes never leaving mine.

I stood there in front of him, my knees weak, my chest burning. My heart broke all over again—but what was I expecting? That he would pull into his arms after everything? That he would tell he missed , that he still loved , that he still wanted ? Fool. I was a fool.

Instead, he sat there like a stranger. Like a man who wanted nothing but repaynt.

I lowered my gaze, biting the inside of my cheek, forcing myself not to cry. He wanted to pay him back, and I wondered how.

My brow furrowed deeper. "Which other way?" I asked, barely above a whisper.

Nathan’s gaze sharpened, his glare fixed on . "You’ll work in my packhouse as staff. Dostic staff."

My stomach dropped. The words slamd into harder than any blow.

He leaned forward, his rciless eyes on . "Every month, five thousand dollars will be deducted from what you owe. Do the math, Hailee. Three million dollars... at five thousand a month."

My lips parted, my breath stalling. My mind tried to keep up, but it hit like thunder when I realized— "That’s..." My voice cracked. "That’s six hundred months... fifty years."

Nathan didn’t blink. "Exactly."

I staggered back, my hand flying to my chest. Fifty years. A lifeti. Tears blurred my vision as I stared back at Nathan. Fifty years. A lifeti. Was he serious? Would he really keep as nothing more than a servant, chained by debt until I grew old and gray?

My lips trembled, my heart aching more. "O-okay..." I whispered. "If that’s what it takes... I’ll do it."

For a mont, a tense silence hung in the air. His eyes narrowed, like he was expecting to say sothing else. Then, in a blur, he was on his feet.

Before I could move, his hand shot out and wrapped around my neck. My breath hitched as his grip pressed firmly—not enough to choke, but enough to remind of his strength. His face lood close, his eyes blazing with rage.

"So you won’t beg for my rcy?" he growled, his voice full of fury. "You’ll just take the order I give you, like so obedient slave?"

I gulped hard but didn’t say a word. My eyes fixed on his as he tightened his hand around my neck. He shook his head. "You are not my Hailee," he spat, his lips trembling. He was right... the Hailee he knew years ago was no longer here.

He released with brutal force, making stumble backward. My hands flew to my neck as I rubbed it, staring at Nathan while he sat back down calmly on the couch. I swallowed hard, putting myself together before I spoke. "My sons... what about them... what becos of them?"

Nathan didn’t answer right away. His jaw clenched, as if he were chewing the words before letting them go. At last he looked at , his eyes cold, unreadable. "I’ll think about what to do with them," he said.

Fear and panic gripped and without thinking about it I dropped to my knees in front of him. "Please," I begged, putting my palms together in front of . "Please, Alpha Nathan. Don’t separate them from . Do whatever you want to —punish , lock up, make work—but please don’t take them. Let them stay with ."

My hands shook. Tears gathered in my eyes. "You can take everything from ," I whispered, "but don’t take them. Please. Let your anger fall on , not on their heads."

For a heartbeat nothing moved. The alpha’s face was a mask of stone, shadowed, impossible to read. Then, impossibly, sothing in the hard line of his mouth softened, and he shrugged. "They will be with you for now until I figure out what to do with them." He picked up a cigarette as if it were the most natural thing in the world and brought it to his lips.

I frowned automatically. Nathan knew how much I hated him smoking. Once, years ago, I would have snatched it from his fingers, slapped it from his mouth, forced him not to smoke—but now I have lost that right.

He struck a match and lit it. The fla winked, then the tip glowed, and when he inhaled the smoke his whole face changed: the tension in his jaw eased for a second, the hard edge around his eyes softened. He exhaled slowly, the smoke curling up in a lazy ribbon that slled like travel and iron and winter. It made my stomach flip.

Nathan’s eyes flicked to through the haze of smoke. He must have noticed the way my face tightened. "Still hate it?" he asked suddenly, his brow raised.

My chest squeezed. He rembered. After all these years, he rembered that small thing about .

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t trust my voice.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, the cigarette balanced between his fingers. "Say it," he pressed. "Say what you’re thinking."

My lips parted, but no sound ca. He wanted to fight him, wanted to spit out the words that used to co so easily. Nathan, don’t smoke. Nathan, stop killing yourself with that poison. But those words belonged to another Hailee—his Hailee. And she was gone.

"I have nothing to say," I whispered instead, lowering my gaze.

In an instant he was in front of , his hand grabbing my chin and yanking my face upward. His green eyes burned down into mine, sharp enough to pierce right through . Smoke drifted from his lips and wrapped around like a chain.

"Nothing to say?" His voice dropped, deep and angry. "Ten years, Hailee. Ten years of silence. And now, when I stand right in front of you, this is all you can give ?" His grip tightened on my chin until it ached. "No excuses. No begging. No truth."

My heart hamred painfully. His anger wasn’t just about lying. It was about everything I’d taken from him—my love, my feelings, our bond.

I forced myself to breathe. "What do you want to say, Nathan?" My voice cracked. "That I’m sorry? That I regret leaving? That I regret everything? Would that satisfy you?"

He didn’t answer. His eyes dropped to my lips for a second before darting away, his jaw flexing, his wolf snarling under his skin.

And then—he shoved away from , as if touching burned him. He crushed the cigarette into the ashtray with brutal force.

"You’ll work," he said flatly, his back turned to now. "You’ll pay back. That’s all there is between us. Nothing more."

But I saw it. The tremor in his hand. The way his shoulders rose and fell too quickly. He was lying—to , and maybe to himself.