Chapter 207 I Am Inviting Myself To Noah's Coronation

Chapter 207 I Am Inviting Myself To Noah's Coronation
Ember’s POV:

I walked back into Heartfelt Café with a heavy heart, the weight of everything that had happened pressing down on my shoulders like a suffocating blanket. The bell above the door chimed, and I barely had time to take a breath before I spotted him.

Noah.

My stomach dropped. Unless I figured out how to defeat and punish him, I didn't want to see his face again. Ever.

He was sitting at one of the corner tables, leaning back in his chair like he owned the place. His eyes found mine immediately, and that familiar smirk spread across his face—the one that used to make my heart race but now just made my skin crawl.

"The service here seems very unprofessional," Noah said loudly to Amelia, who was wiping down a nearby table. His voice carried across the café, making sure everyone could hear. "I don't know why my brothers like to come to this place."

Amelia gave him a pained smile, her hands tightening on the washcloth. I could see the discomfort written all over her face.

He was already annoying her enough.

"It's fine," I told Amelia, walking toward Noah's table. "I can handle this."

Dirty bastard.

I stopped in front of his table, crossing my arms over my chest. Noah looked me up and down slowly, that disgusting smirk never leaving his face.

"Look at you!" he said, his voice dripping with mock sympathy. "Stripped of all your luxuries, but your attitude keeps getting more arrogant. But how are you, Ember? Tell me, was all that chaos you caused worth losing everything you once treasured?"

He laughed, and the sound made my skin crawl.

I forced a smile onto my face, even though anger was burning through my veins like wildfire. I wouldn't show him weakness. Showing him weakness meant letting him enjoy another victory.

"How's the crown, Noah?" I asked, my voice sweet as honey but sharp as a blade. "Is it too tight? Or too heavy?"

My smile turned into an angry fake grin.

"Oh, it's the perfect size," he replied, leaning forward. "Like it was made specifically for me." His eyes darkened, and his voice dropped to a disgusting whisper. "Tell me, how many hands have touched those beautiful legs of yours, slipped past your panties, and fingered that tight, desperate pussy of yours?"

I clenched my thighs together instinctively. Around us, other customers were stealing glances at my legs, then whispering among themselves.

The customers here have always treated us with respect and never let us complain about that kind of treatment, but now that an alpha King was opening a door for such nasty comments, I was expecting some to follow his lead.

"You don't need to worry about that," I shot back, my voice steady despite the rage coursing through me. "Keep your position secure and your pants zipped, because the day isn't far when you won't need to ask others how many hands have been up their ass."

The implication hung in the air between us. Noah's smirk faltered for just a moment before returning full force.

"Anyway," he said, suddenly standing up and straightening his jacket. "I came here just to let you know that I'll be accepting Mallory on her twentieth birthday. I hope you can make it."

He threw an invitation onto the table with a flourish.

"Obviously not as a guest," he added, his voice dripping with condescension. "Your café will be serving us. We've already prepaid Mr. Ezra a sum of money."

I gritted my teeth and nodded, picking up the invitation. The fancy cardstock felt heavy in my hands.

I'll enjoy this ceremony more than anyone else. It'll be fun watching him cry tears of blood on his happiest day.

"Do you need me to get you anything?" I asked, forcing my voice to stay level. Let him choose his last meal.

"No!" Noah replied, waving his hand dismissively. "I already have everything."

He stood up and walked out of the café, his mission accomplished.

I watched him go, my hands shaking slightly as I held the invitation. When the door finally closed behind him, I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.

I walked into the kitchen, where Amelia was standing by the shelves, staring at a piece of paper in her hands. Her brow was furrowed, and she looked confused.

"What's that?" I asked.

“Remember, he was crowned the Alpha King, along with the other brothers?” She shocked me with her words, "Yes! The brothers' inauguration ceremony has already taken place. They'll officially move out of the mansion in a few months to manage their own packs. In fact, this order is about that. We're supposed to deliver some pastries to the Blackwood mansion to celebrate this great new beginning."

Amelia was frowning, afraid I would object.

"We've already accepted their prepayment," she added, her voice betraying her fear.

A smile spread across my face. "Oh, don't worry about me. I'll personally deliver the pastries to their mansion."

Amelia looked up at me sharply, alarm written all over her face. "Ember! Why? If you have any ideas in your head, I advise you to give them up and let us handle this."

The alert look on her face after noticing my confident smile made me pause.

"Don't worry," I said, trying to sound reassuring. "I won't do anything wrong. I'm just bringing sweet—"

The back door opened, cutting off my words. Marisa walked in, her head down, her hands gripping the edges of her skirt tightly.

Something was wrong. I could sense it immediately, but I didn't want to call her out and embarrass her.

"No!" Amelia said suddenly, turning to Marisa. "Marisa and I will go to the mansion together to deliver the pastries."

Marisa stopped walking, thinking for a moment before looking up. Her eyes were red and swollen.

"Go to the mansion?" she asked Amelia hesitantly. "Why would we go to the mansion?"

Amelia smiled confidently. "Lord Blackwood wants us to present the best pastries from our shop to him."

Marisa looked relieved for a moment, then shook her head vigorously.

"I can't go," she said, making an excuse. "I don't feel well."

She seemed like she wanted to avoid crowds and be alone.

I could predict that Marisa would fight for her space.

"Well, that settles it then," I said, shrugging my shoulders. "I'll go with Amelia to the mansion. Now, let's see, should we also make some croissants? I know the brothers like them."

I wanted Amelia to give up on the idea of taking Marisa, because Amelia knew she couldn't handle that much work alone.