Chapter 165: Confronting Elaine

Amelia's POV

I felt a cold shiver run through my body at the sound of Elaine's voice echoing from downstairs. Her sharp command followed Iris's announcement.

"Don't worry," he said firmly, placing a gentle kiss on my forehead. "I'll handle this. Go wash up first."

I pulled the sheets tighter around my naked body, suddenly feeling exposed in more ways than one. "What does she want?"

"Nothing important." Alexander's voice was cool and dismissive. "You go freshen up. I'll deal with her."

My mouth felt dry. "Are you sure? I could—"

"No need." He squeezed my hand with reassuring strength. "Take your time. There's no rush."

But there was. I could feel it in the tension that now filled the room, in the way Alexander's shoulders had stiffened. I swallowed hard, though we both knew it wasn't that simple.

"Remember who you are," he added, his voice low and firm. "You have nothing to fear from her."

I nodded again, though we both knew it wasn't that simple. Everyone feared Elaine Westbrook.

As Alexander pulled on his clothes, I wrapped myself in a sheet and headed for the bathroom. As I washed my face and brushed my teeth, my mind raced with possibilities. How had Elaine found us at Alexander's private villa? Had Iris informed her?

I scrubbed my face harder than necessary, as if I could wash away the judgmental stares I knew were coming my way. What would she say to her son? To me? Worse, what would she do?

By the time I finished washing up, I'd played out a dozen scenarios in my head, each worse than the last. I dried my face quickly and realized I had nothing to wear except the clothes from yesterday, which were rumpled beyond salvation.

When I returned to the bedroom, Alexander was gone, but laid out on the bed was a simple white sundress with a light blue cardigan.

I ran my fingers over the soft fabric, wondering where it had come from. The size looked right, and the style was something I might have chosen myself. Had Alexander arranged this? The thought made my heart flutter despite everything.

I slipped into the clothes, which fit perfectly, and tried to compose myself. I needed to face Elaine with dignity. I was Alexander's fated mate, after all. That had to count for something... right?

Just as I finished combing my hair, the bedroom door opened and Alexander returned. His expression was strained, but he managed a small smile when he saw me.

"You look beautiful," he said softly.

"Is she...?" I couldn't finish the question.

"She's angry that I fired that maid last night," he explained, running a hand through his hair. "Iris called her."

"I knew it," I muttered. "I saw Iris watching us yesterday. The way she was lurking around corners, pretending not to stare."

Alexander's eyes darkened. "She'll be dealt with."

"It's my fault someone lost their job."

"No." Alexander's voice hardened. "It's my mother's fault for overstepping. She forgets her place sometimes."

He sat beside me and took my hand. "Listen to me, Amelia. She's going to try to intimidate you. She'll use every trick she knows to make you feel small and unworthy. But you're not."

He tilted my chin up. "Look at me. You are going to be the Head Alpha's mate. You outrank her in every way that matters. Don't let her make you forget that."

I tried to draw strength from his words, but my insides felt like jelly. "What should I say to her?"

"The truth. That we're fated mates. That we belong together. Beyond that, you don't owe her any explanations." He pressed his lips to my temple. "I need to wash up quickly. The maid has already prepared breakfast downstairs. You can wait for me or head down first."

I hesitated, unsure which option was worse.

"Give me five minutes," he said, heading toward the bathroom.

Before I could decide, Elaine's voice cut through the house again. "I don't have all day, Alexander! Don't make me come up there!"

Fear clutched at my throat, but something in me hardened. I was tired of hiding, tired of feeling like I didn't belong.

"I'll go down," I called to Alexander through the bathroom door. "No point making her wait."

He poked his head out, water dripping from his face. "Are you sure?"

"No," I admitted with a weak smile. "But I need to face her sometime."

"Remember who you are," he said, his eyes intense. "Stand tall."

I took a deep breath and nodded, though it felt like I was agreeing to walk into a lion's den.

The stairs seemed longer than usual as I descended alone. Each step brought me closer to a confrontation I wasn't prepared for. When I reached the bottom, I heard voices from the living room—Elaine's clipped tones and Iris's deferential murmurs.

I paused in the doorway, taking in the scene. Elaine sat regally on one of the sofas, her dark hair pulled back in an elegant chignon. She wore an expensive-looking cream suit that screamed old money and power.

Iris stood beside her, hands clasped in front of her apron, that same calculating look in her eyes I'd spotted yesterday.

The conversation stopped abruptly when they noticed me. Elaine's eyes narrowed, scanning me from head to toe with undisguised contempt.

"Ah," she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "The guest of honor arrives."

Iris met my eyes with barely concealed triumph. That little smirk at the corner of her mouth said everything I needed to know about her loyalty.

"Mrs. Westbrook," I managed, forcing myself to step fully into the room.

Elaine flicked her fingers at Iris. "Leave us."

Iris bobbed a quick curtsy and scurried out, not before giving me another smug glance. When she was gone, Elaine gestured to the sofa across from her.

"Sit."

It wasn't an invitation; it was a command. I complied, folding my hands in my lap to hide their trembling.

"So," Elaine began, leaning forward slightly. "You're the little Omega who's got both my sons wrapped around her finger. I must say, you have a remarkable talent for manipulating men."

The accusation stung, but I kept my face neutral. "I haven't manipulated anyone, Mrs. Westbrook."

"No?" Her eyebrow arched perfectly. "Then how do you explain Nathan being exiled to the borders because of you? Or Alexander suddenly forgetting about his responsibilities to this pack and his engagement to Cassandra?"

"I never asked for any of that," I said, my voice steadier than I felt. "Nathan made his own choices, and Alexander and I are fated mates. We—"

"Fated mates," she repeated with a harsh laugh. "What a convenient excuse. Do you know how many desperate little Omegas have claimed to be 'fated mates' with wealthy Alphas over the centuries? It's the oldest trick in the book."

My cheeks burned. "It's not a trick. We are—"

"You're nothing," she cut in, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "You're a nobody from a nothing family. You are not fit to set foot in this house, let alone share my son's bed."

I straightened my spine, Alexander's words echoing in my mind. "With all due respect, Mrs. Westbrook, your son disagrees."

Her eyes flashed. "Alexander has always had a weakness for pretty things. But make no mistake—his infatuation will pass. And when it does, where will that leave you?"

"We love each other," I said, the words emerging stronger than I expected.

"Love?" She smiled coldly. "Love doesn't matter in our world, child. Power, legacy, bloodlines—these are what matter."

She reached into her handbag and withdrew a folded slip of paper, which she placed on the coffee table between us. When she slid it toward me, I realized it was a check.

"One million dollars," she said calmly. "Take it. Take your family, and leave Shadow Kingdom forever."