Eleanor’s POV
I am so screwed.
The words loop in my head like a death sentence. The brothers think I did sothing to Kayden. How do I even begin to explain that I was just trying to get away from a human trafficker and ended up in the wrong bathroom? That their brother was the one who hugged ? That his touch did things to my body I’m still trying to process?
Gosh, can my life get any worse?
A gentle tap on my shoulder makes flinch so hard I nearly fall off the chair. I look up to see the butler, Sir Alfred, standing there with a kind, patient expression.
"My apologies, Miss Eleanor," he says. "I’ve been calling your na. You seed... elsewhere."
"I—I’m so sorry," I stamr, my face heating with a fresh wave of embarrassnt. "I was just... thinking."
"No worries at all," he assures . "I rely wished to ask what you might like to eat. You must be hungry after the recent events."
Eat? The very idea makes my stomach clench. Who could possibly think about food at a ti like this? I thought I’d never see the inside of this opulent, intimidating living room again, but here I am, waiting for my execution.
"That’s very kind of you, Sir Alfred, but I don’t have much of an appetite," I say, trying for a polite smile.
Right on cue, my stomach lets out a long, low, and very audible growl.
Sir Alfred’s smile widens, a genuine twinkle in his eye. "I will be right back," he says. "Please, try to relax. Make yourself at ho. I knew I would be seeing you again."
With that, he turns and glides silently out of the room, leaving alone with my dread and the mortifying echo of my own hunger.
How long have I been sitting here? It feels like hours. Every second stretches into an eternity of anxiety. The mont they reappear, I’m doing it. I’m rejecting Kayden. No hesitation. He’ll accept it, of course. Why wouldn’t he? I’m the farthest thing from billionaire partner material.
You haven’t even given him a chance! Beatrice whines, her frustration a hot pulse in my chest. This isn’t fair!
Fair? I shoot back silently. Beatrice, he’s a billionaire CEO. He and his brothers are legendary for being ruthless. They value efficiency and control above all else. Do you honestly think a man like Kayden Vexxon would want a mate who can barely make decisions for herself without having a minor existential crisis?
I press on, my ntal voice sharp. And should I remind you that the three of them are already sharing a woman? Miss Scarlet? She’s probably their actual mate. I refuse to be part of such...arrangent.
The thought makes my skin crawl. But then a new, unsettling question forms. Now that I think about it... is it even possible for a man to have two mates?
I do not know, Beatrice admits, her confusion mirroring my own. But I know what I felt. His wolf recognized us. The bond is real. And the Moon Goddess does not make mistakes.
I’m not so sure about that. My entire life feels like one big, cosmic mistake. Why would my destined mate be a man whose world is the exact opposite of everything I am and everything I can handle? The logic doesn’t fit. The fear is too great. The rejection is the only safe path.
The sound of fast, sharp footsteps echoing through the hall made jump to my feet. Finally. They were back. I turned toward the entrance, ready to get this over with, but my entire body froze.
It wasn’t the brothers.
It was Miss Scarlet.
I’d seen her pictures in society columns, but in person, her aura was overwhelming.
It reeked of absolute authority and cold confidence. Her ombre purple and white hair was styled to perfection, adding to her sophisticated, untouchable aura.
And the look she was giving was nothing short of deadly.
Instinct took over. I imdiately bowed my head. "Good evening, Miss Valois."
She didn’t acknowledge the greeting. She walked closer, each click of her heels on the marble floor a threat. The disgust on her face was palpable.
"What are you doing here again?" she demanded, her voice like shards of ice. "How did you get in?"
My throat tightened. "I... I was brought here."
"By who?" she snapped.
"By... by Sir Kayden."
She let out a short, incredulous laugh, her eyes sweeping over with pure contempt. "You expect to believe that? That a little mouse like you was personally brought here by Kayden Vexxon?"
I opened my mouth to explain, but she moved faster than I could blink. Her hand shot out, gripping my chin, her fingers digging in painfully as she forced my head up.
"I don’t know how you’re doing all this," she hissed, her face inches from mine. "First, you deceive everyone into thinking you were human. Then you sohow manipulate your way into their house. Now you’ve registered as a racer? Don’t think I haven’t noticed you." Her grip tightened. "They would never give a battling eye to a weakling like you. So if you think you can curry favor with them, I will make you regret the day you were born for crossing into my territory. For getting near to what belongs to ."
From her words, the possessiveness, the fury—it was clear. Scarlet was definitely the triplets’ mate.
Do not let this slide! Beatrice roared, a surge of protective rage flooding .
But my own fear was a colder, stronger force. Slowly, I raised my hands in a gesture of surrender.
Scarlet’s eyes narrowed, but she released my face with a shove.
"It’s not what you think," I whispered, my voice trembling.
I opened my mouth to try and explain, but the words died before they could form. What could I possibly say? ’Actually, your mate’s wolf seems to think I’m his mate, too?’ If looks could kill, the one Scarlet was giving would have vaporized on the spot.
"What’s the matter?" she sneered, tilting her head. "Cat got your tongue? Or are you simply too ashad that your pathetic little sches have been exposed?"
I could only stand there, my silence confirming her every accusation in her eyes.
"Get out of this house," she commanded, her voice dropping to a venomous whisper. "And if I ever see you near this place, or any of them, again, you will regret the day you were born."
Just then, Alfred’s calm, steady voice cut through the tension. "Is everything alright here?"
I watched, stunned, as Scarlet’s entire deanor transford in an instant. The fury lted into a pleasant, almost bored expression. She turned to Alfred with a light laugh. "Everything’s fine, Alfred. We were just having a little chat. This young woman was just preparing to leave."
A servant entered silently and placed a tray of exquisite-looking desserts on the table.
"Not before she eats, I think," Alfred said, his tone leaving no room for argunt. "Miss Eleanor has likely not eaten all day."
Scarlet’s eyes flicked to , a silent warning. "I’m sure Eleanor isn’t starving," she said, her voice sweetly poisonous. "Are you, dear?"
Alfred didn’t wait for to answer. "Nonsense. I heard the distinct growl of her stomach earlier. The body does not lie." He gently guided to the sofa. "Please, sit. Enjoy this. The brothers will be down to speak with you shortly."
Scarlet’s composure cracked. "She doesn’t need to et with them. The brothers specifically told that she should be escorted out."
Alfred paused and gave Scarlet a look that was both respectful and utterly unyielding. "Miss Valois," he said calmly, "since when did you begin speaking on behalf of the brothers?"
I looked down, focusing intently on the dessert plate.
Scarlet took a sharp, controlled breath, visibly wrestling her fury back under a mask of civility. "My apologies, Alfred," she said, her voice tight. "Of course, you speak for the brothers in matters of the household. But as their fated mate, I believe my voice should also carry so weight regarding who is allowed to linger in their private space."
Alfred’s expression remained neutral, but his words were firm. "Until the brothers themselves inform that you speak for them, Miss Valois, you do not. Those are my standing orders."
I like this man, Beatrice remarked with approval.
A flush of humiliation crept up Scarlet’s neck. "Even if that is the case," she hissed, "must you state it so plainly in front of... a guest?"
"She is not a guest," Alfred replied, his gaze shifting aningfully toward just as the sound of heavy footsteps echoed from the hallway.
Scarlet imdiately fell silent.
We all turned. The three brothers stood at the entrance to the living room, their presence imdiately dominating the space.
Keith’s eyes swept over the scene, his expression unreadable but his aura one of cold, final authority.
"Since everyone is here," Keith stated, his voice cutting through the tense silence, "it’s ti we determine who is lying."
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