Chapter 44
Elowen's POV
The drive to Drake's apartment felt both too short and endless. Each mile brought me closer to answers I wasn't sure I wanted, but couldn't live without.
I gripped the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white, thoughts spinning like a tornado. My father—the mythical hero of my childhood imagination—had never been that man at all. He'd been a coward who couldn't face his mistakes. A gambler who bet his family's future and lost. A father who traded his daughter before taking his own life.
The betrayal cut deeper than any knife. I had built my entire identity around being the daughter of a loving father taken too soon by cancer. I'd created memories that never existed—him teaching me to ride a bike, cheering at my first school play, threatening my first boyfriend. All fantasy.
The real man had sold me to the Reid family for reasons I still didn't understand. What was so special about my bloodline? What alliance were they trying to secure? And why had Drake never mentioned any of this during our three years together?
As I pulled into the parking lot of Drake's apartment building, my phone buzzed. Casper's name flashed on the screen:
Food's taking longer than expected. Everything okay?
I bit my lip, guilt washing over me as I replied: All good. Just relaxing. Take your time.
Another lie. The pile was growing by the minute.
Drake lived on the third floor of a modern building on the outskirts of town. I'd spent countless nights here during our relationship, but it had never felt like home. Now, as I approached his door, it felt like walking into the lion's den.
I raised my hand to knock, but the door swung open before my knuckles could make contact. Drake stood there, his sandy blond hair disheveled, green eyes sharp and wary. He wore jeans and a simple black t-shirt that hugged his muscular frame—a frame that had once made my heart race but now only made me tense with anxiety.
"That was quick," he said, stepping back to let me in.
I entered cautiously, keeping my distance. The apartment looked exactly as I remembered: minimalist furniture, spotless surfaces, no personal touches. It was a place he existed in, not a home he lived in.
"How did you find out?" Drake asked, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms. "About the arrangement."
"My mother told me," I said, my voice steadier than I felt. "After your little scene at the Red Wolf, she felt I needed to know the truth."
His jaw tightened. "She shouldn't have done that."
"Why? Because I'm just property to be traded? I don't deserve to know my own fate?" Anger flared hot and bright inside me. Juno growled, making my eyes flash gold.
Drake had the decency to look uncomfortable. "It's complicated."
"Then uncomplicate it," I snapped. "Tell me what my father agreed to. Tell me what your family wants from me. Tell me why I'm so damn important to people I've never even met!"
He smirked, taking a step closer. "Why should I tell you anything? You've humiliated me enough already."
I stared at him in disbelief. "I humiliated you? You're the one who posted our private photos online. You have the nerve to—"
"You left me for those Thornwood twins," he spat, his face twisting with hatred. "Do you have any idea what that did to my reputation?"
"Your reputation?" I laughed bitterly. "Is that all you care about?"
I glanced around the pristine apartment. "Where's your girlfriend anyway? Isn't Sarah supposed to be your new arm candy?"
Drake's lips curled into a cold smile. "Who says she isn't here?"
I scanned the living room, seeing no evidence of another person. No purse, no jacket, no second glass on the counter.
Then I heard it—a sickeningly sweet voice calling from the bedroom.
"Honey? Who are you talking to?"
Sarah emerged from the hallway wearing nothing but a black lace lingerie set that left little to the imagination. The scent of sex hung heavy around her, and even without trying, I could see dried semen stains on her bra. My stomach churned as I covered my nose reflexively.
"Well, well," Sarah cooed, sauntering toward Drake. "Look what the cat dragged in."
I took a step back, disgust washing over me. "You two are perfect for each other. Keeping it classy as always."
"You're one to talk about class," Drake said, slipping his arm around Sarah's waist. "At least we confine our activities to the bedroom."
Sarah giggled, running her finger down his chest. "Well, not always the bedroom."
"True," Drake smirked. "See where you're standing right now, Elowen? We christened that spot this morning."
I stepped back quickly, repulsed. "You're disgusting."
Sarah wrinkled her nose, pressing herself against Drake. "Baby, don't you smell that awful scent on her? She's been marked by those twins. It's revolting."
Drake's expression darkened instantly. He lunged forward, grabbing my face roughly. "You let them mark you? You fucking slut. No wonder you reek when you walked in!"
Juno surged through me, rage burning white-hot. I twisted my head and bit down hard on his hand.
"Fuck!" he yelled, jerking away.
"Get your hands off me," I snarled, feeling Juno's strength coursing through my veins. "Your sulfur and greasy smell is far worse than anything."
Drake raised his hand to strike me. "You bitch, you bit me—"
I caught his wrist mid-air, surprising even myself with my strength. "Don't even think about it, dickhead."
Sarah's voice cut through the tension like a blade. "You pathetic whore," she hissed. "Coming here thinking you can seduce Drake back? What's wrong, the twins' cocks not enough for you?"
That was the final straw. Juno roared inside me, and before I could stop myself, my hand shot out and cracked across Sarah's face with a resounding slap. The sound echoed through the apartment like a gunshot.
Sarah's head snapped to the side, her perfectly styled hair whipping across her face. When she turned back to me, her cheek was bright red, and her eyes blazed with fury.
"You fucking bitch!" she screamed, raising her own hand to retaliate.
But Drake suddenly stepped between us, catching Sarah's wrist before her hand could reach my face. I stared at him in confusion, not understanding why he would protect me.
"Drake, what the hell?" Sarah snarled, trying to jerk her arm free from his grip. "She hit me! Let me hit her back!"
"No," Drake said firmly, his voice taking on an authoritative tone I rarely heard him use. "We have business to discuss. Privately."
Sarah's eyes went wide with disbelief. "Are you seriously taking her side right now? After everything she's put you through?"
Drake's grip on her wrist tightened. "I said no, Sarah. This is between Elowen and me."
"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Sarah's voice rose to a near shriek. "I'm not going anywhere! This little slut waltzed into our home and—"
"Enough!" Drake's voice boomed through the apartment, making both Sarah and me jump. His face had gone dark with anger as he turned on Sarah. "I said enough! Can you fucking leave for once, baby?!"
Sarah recoiled as if he'd slapped her. For a moment, her confident mask slipped, revealing hurt and confusion underneath. But she quickly composed herself, straightening her shoulders.
"You don't have to get angry," she said, her voice smaller now, almost wounded. "I'll leave. I'll just... go."
She moved toward the bedroom, presumably to gather her things, but her movements were stiff and defensive. I could hear her muttering under her breath, though I couldn't make out the words.
Drake and I stood in uncomfortable silence, the tension thick between us. I watched his face, trying to read his expression, but he'd already shifted into that cold, calculating look I recognized from our worst fights.
A few minutes later, Sarah emerged fully dressed in a short red dress and heels. She grabbed her purse from the counter, shooting me a venomous look before turning to Drake.
"Call me later," she said, her voice trying to sound casual but betraying an edge of uncertainty.
Drake barely glanced at her. "Sure."
The door slammed behind her with enough force to rattle the windows.
Now it was just Drake and me, alone in his sterile apartment. The silence stretched between us, heavy with unspoken threats and bitter history.
His gaze returned to my neck, his eyes locking onto the marks he had railed against moments before. But this time, the hot fury was gone, replaced by something colder and more calculated as he truly processed their implications. The fury in his eyes didn't disappear—it crystallized into something more dangerous.
He moved with deliberate calm now, his voice unnervingly steady when he finally spoke.
"Now," he said, a calculating smile spreading across his face. "Let's talk about what really brought you here."