Chapter 12
Elle's POV
The air in the house felt thick with tension after Brad's abrupt hang-up. Grace stood with her arms crossed, a smug expression on her face, clearly convinced she'd just proven her point. Megan was smirking in the corner, while Mom wrung her hands anxiously.
I turned to Alex, panic rising in my chest. "What do we do now?" I whispered.
Alex straightened his tie, his expression calm and unruffled despite the hostility in the room. "We wait."
"Wait?" I echoed. "For what?"
"For Alpha Brad," he replied simply. "He's coming here."
"Coming here?" My voice squeaked. "How do you know?"
"Because I know my boss," Alex said with quiet confidence. "When he hung up like that... it means he's already on his way."
Grace scoffed, but I noticed a flicker of uncertainty cross her face. "More nonsense," she muttered, but her voice lacked its previous conviction.
"You can't seriously expect us to believe that Brad Rayne is personally coming to our neighborhood," Megan said, though her mocking tone had a nervous edge to it now.
Alex merely checked his watch and remained silent.
Minutes ticked by, each second amplifying the tension.
Then we heard it—the unmistakable sound of multiple vehicles pulling up outside our building. The noise was so out of place in our quiet, rundown neighborhood that everyone froze.
"What the hell?" Grace muttered, moving toward the window.
Before she could reach it, shouting erupted from outside. Neighbors calling to each other, exclamations of disbelief. Our door buzzer rang insistently.
Grace yanked the curtain aside and gasped audibly. Her face drained of color. "Oh my God."
Curiosity overcame everyone. We all rushed to the window, crowding together to see what had caused such a commotion.
My jaw dropped.
A convoy of luxury vehicles had filled our narrow street—sleek black SUVs, a silver Bentley, and at the center, a midnight blue Maserati. A small crowd of neighbors had gathered, gawking openly at the unprecedented sight.
But it wasn't the cars that held everyone's attention. It was the man emerging from the Maserati.
Brad Rayne looked completely out of place and yet somehow owning every inch of space around him.
He was a living embodiment of everything humans aspired to but could never attain in our stratified society—beauty, strength, power, wealth, status.
"That's... that's really him," Megan stammered, her voice barely audible. "That's Brad Rayne."
From the other vehicles, an entourage emerged. Elizabeth Rayne stepped out, elegant and regal in a tailored navy suit. Behind her came a line of staff members, each carrying what looked like metal briefcases.
"What are they carrying?" Mom whispered, her eyes wide.
Alex moved toward the door. "I should go down and escort them up."
Grace suddenly snapped out of her shocked stupor. "Wait! The apartment—it's a mess! We can't have the Raynes see it like this!"
The same woman who had been calling me a liar and Alex a "werewolf's dog" just minutes ago was now frantically straightening cushions and gathering dirty dishes.
"Megan, quick—put away those clothes! Susan, wipe down the table!" She barked orders while trying to smooth her own hair and clothes.
Alex slipped out during the chaos.
By the time the knock came at our door, Grace had worked herself into a panic trying to make our humble apartment presentable. Mom stood nervously by my side, her hand gripping mine so tightly it hurt.
Grace took one last desperate look around, then plastered on a smile so fake it might have been comical under different circumstances. She opened the door.
Alex stood there, now the picture of formal professionalism. "Mrs. West, Mr. Bradford Rayne, Alpha of Moonshade Bay, and Mrs. Elizabeth Rayne request permission to enter your home."
Before Grace could respond, Brad's imposing figure filled the doorway behind Alex. In person, in our small apartment, he seemed even larger and more powerful than usual. His amber eyes swept the room, barely acknowledging Grace or the others before locking onto me.
Both of them entered, followed by six staff members, each carrying an identical metal briefcase. Our small apartment suddenly felt impossibly crowded.
Grace had transformed entirely. The woman who had been calling me a liar and threatening to call the police was now practically bowing. "Mr. Rayne, Mrs. Rayne, what an unexpected honor! Please, please come in. Can I offer you anything? Tea? Coffee?"
Brad ignored her completely, his attention fixed solely on me. Elizabeth, however, turned to address Grace and Mom.
"I understand there has been some... confusion... regarding my grandson's relationship with Elle," Elizabeth said, her voice cultured but cold.
Grace laughed nervously. "Oh, just a small misunderstanding! We were simply concerned for Elle's welfare, you understand. A mother's worry!"
"Mrs. Rayne," said Mom softly, the only genuine person in the room. "I'm Susan, Elle's foster mother."
Elizabeth assessed her with those shrewd eyes, then gave a slight nod of acknowledgment. "Mrs. West, I'll be direct. My grandson and your daughter are bound by a mate connection, a rare occurrence between our species. She is carrying the next heir to the Rayne line, a child of immense importance to our family and pack."
The staff members had lined up against the wall, still holding their briefcases.
"Today," Elizabeth continued, "I've come to formalize our families' connection. These cases contain a gift of ten million dollars in cash, along with jewelry, stocks, and bonds."
Mom gasped audibly. Megan's eyes bulged. Grace swayed slightly as if she might faint.
"Consider it a traditional offering from our family to yours," Elizabeth said, gesturing to the staff to open the cases. Each was filled with neatly stacked bills or documents, glittering jewelry nestled in velvet.
"If you consent to Elle becoming Brad's marked mate, these gifts are yours," Elizabeth stated. "If you refuse..." she shrugged elegantly, "Elle will still become his mate, as the mate bond and the child dictate, but you'll receive nothing."
Grace's transformation was immediate and complete. Her face split into a smile so wide it must have hurt. "Of course we consent! Elle is a wonderful girl, and we couldn't be happier for this blessed union!"
I felt sick watching her transparent greed, the same woman who had been calling me delusional.
Megan had edged closer to one of the open cases, her eyes gleaming with naked envy as she stared at the contents. Her earlier mockery had evaporated completely, replaced by a desperate desire to touch the wealth on display.
Only Mom seemed conflicted, her eyes filled with tears as she looked between me and the cases of money. "Elle," she whispered, "is this really what you want?"
Before I could answer, Brad spoke, his deep voice cutting through the room. "Elle is my mate. The child she carries is my heir. This isn't a negotiation—it's a courtesy visit."
His dismissive tone made it clear what he thought of my family and their sudden change of heart.
Grace didn't seem to notice or care about the contempt in his voice. She was too busy nodding enthusiastically. "Yes, yes, of course! We're so honored! Elle has always been special, I've always said so!"