Chapter 154 Chapter 154
Violet
I hadn't even noticed him enter the hall, but there he was, standing near the entrance to his study. His expression was cold, like he was assessing the situation with those sharp eyes that missed nothing.
"This is becoming a pattern," Alaric continued, walking slowly toward our group. "Accusations without evidence. He said, she said. Drama and chaos." His gaze fixed on me. "I am not unbiased in this situation, as has been made abundantly clear. So I will ask you the same thing I asked my son at the hospital. Do you have any proof of these alleged threats? Any evidence beyond your word?"
The emphasis on "your word" made it clear exactly how much weight he gave it…which was none.
My throat tightened. "No. I don't have proof. But that doesn't mean—"
"Then we have a problem." Alaric's tone was final. "Because without proof, this becomes a matter of credibility. And I'm afraid your credibility in this pack is rather questionable."
"But I have proof," Nate interjected smoothly. He was still holding his phone, and now he swiped through screens. "Proof that Violet wasn't the innocent victim she's making herself out to be."
"What are you talking about?" My voice cracked.
"When we broke up, she destroyed my apartment," Nate said, addressing Alaric now rather than me. "She burned all my clothes and smashed my electronics, leading to thousands of dollars in damage. I have the photos from when I filed the police report. I have the restraining order I had to get because she wouldn't stop showing up at my workplace."
"That's a lie!" The words burst out of me. "You asked me to leave your life, to get out of your face. You wanted me gone so I erased every sign of my existence from your life just like you had asked. And you can’t digest how easily I moved on from you. Hence, you and Nicole have turned this wedding of yours into a torture for me, hoping to see me miserable. But when you didn’t get that satisfaction, you tried to corner me, you fucking gave me a vibrator as a gift that day under the pretence of gifting all the ladies. Thats how low you stoop, Nate. Did you ever tell them how you got your first bruise before the summit?"
But even as I said it, I knew it sounded like a desperate person making excuses. Like someone caught in a lie, scrambling for a defense. Because again, I had no proof to back my claims.
Nate was surprisingly calm despite my outburst. I wasn’t sure if Nicole had already prepared him for this debacle.
"She left me after burning all my stuff, destroying my home because I picked Nicole over her," Nate continued, his voice gaining confidence as he wove his narrative. "And when I made it clear I was committed to Nicole, that I'd moved on, she got angry. Vindictive."
"That is not what happened," I said, but my voice was shaking now. "He's twisting everything. He threatened me. He cornered me. He said—"
"Show them the call logs," Alaric said to Nate, cutting me off.
Nate pulled up his phone, turning the screen so everyone could see. There it was, clear as day. Multiple calls from my number to his. There was clear evidence that I'd contacted him first.
"She even called me the night of Nicole's bachelorette party," Nate said, scrolling to show a call dated the night of the incident. "Right before everything went down at the club. Like she was checking to make sure I'd be there."
"I never called you that night," I said desperately. "I was texting Elijah. I didn't call anyone else."
But the evidence was right there, undeniable. And I had been so drunk that night, so drugged, that I couldn't be entirely sure what I had or hadn't done.
Had I mistakenly dialled Nate’s number instead of Elijah’s at first? Had he somehow gotten my phone? Made a call from it to his own number?
It was possible. But I couldn't prove it.
"This is ridiculous," Elijah said, his voice tight with barely controlled rage. "He's lying. He's manufacturing evidence. He assaulted her, drugged her…"
"All we have is your word on that," Alaric interrupted. "And your word is biased. You've made your feelings for this girl abundantly clear."
Elijah took another step toward Nate, and I saw his hands clench into fists. The same hands that had beaten Nate unconscious and were still scarred from that violence.
"Elijah, don't," I said quickly, grabbing his arm. "Please don't."
But he was already wound too tight, too angry. I could feel the tension in his muscles, could see the wolf rising in his eyes.
"Enough!" Aurelia's voice cut through the chaos, sharp and commanding. She'd appeared from somewhere, gliding into the entrance hall like a ghost. "This has gone on long enough. Nate, we're glad you've recovered. Elijah, stand down. Violet, perhaps it's best if you return to your room."
Her tone made it clear it wasn't a suggestion.
But before anyone could move, she continued, "We will all be civil. We will all behave like the civilized members of high society that we claim to be. The wedding is in three days. Three days. Surely we can all manage to coexist peacefully until then."
Her gaze swept over all of us, lingering on Elijah and me. "After the wedding, once Nateand Nicole are married and have departed on their honeymoon, you may all go your separate ways. But until then, I expect nothing but exemplary behavior from everyone. Am I understood?"
It was phrased as a question, but there was no doubt it was a command.
Murmurs of agreement rippled through the crowd. Nicole nodded eagerly, still clinging to Nate. Madison and Veronica whispered to each other. The servants and maids began to disperse, the show apparently over.
Elijah's jaw was clenched so tight I was afraid he might crack a tooth. Without a word, he turned and stalked toward the stairs, his movements sharp and angry.
I followed quickly, grateful for the excuse to escape. Behind us, I could hear Nicole fussing over Nate, could hear Aurelia dismissing the remaining crowd.
But all I could focus on was the fact that Nate had just painted me as an obsessive ex who'd destroyed his life. That everyone had seen the "evidence" supporting his version of events. That my credibility was shot, my word meaningless.
And worst of all, there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it.
Elijah kept walking, his strides long and purposeful, until we reached my room at the end of the hallway. He opened the door, ushered me inside, then slammed it shut behind us hard enough to rattle the frame.
For a moment, he just stood there, his back to me, his hands clenched at his sides. I could see him shaking with barely suppressed rage.