Chapter 176 CHAPTER 176
Author’s POV
Anna woke to the soft and persistent knocking of her door. She didn’t open her eyes immediately. For a moment, she simply listened to the quiet hum of the estate waking up, to the muted footsteps outside her door, to the unfamiliar stillness that followed a night she refused to replay in her mind.
“Madam,” a maid’s voice called gently. “Your breakfast.”
Anna inhaled slowly and pushed herself upright.
“Come in.”
The maid entered with a polished tray with tea steaming lightly, sliced fruit arranged with unnecessary perfection, warm bread wrapped in linen. The kind of service that was meant to comfort. She wasn’t used to this sort of treatment.
“Thank you,” she said, offering a polite smile.
The maid bowed her head and left.
She stared at the tray for a long moment without touching anything. Usually, she started her mornings in her garden. Then she’d walk for about half an hour. Sometimes, she’d spend even longer time on her walks.
After eating only half of what was offered, she dressed simply and made her way down the corridor to Philly’s room. She knocked twice.
“Come in,” Philly’s voice called.
Anna stepped inside and found her seated by the window, hair loosely braided, sunlight streaming across her face. If not for the wound dressings on her head and around her thigh, one would never know what the previous night had held.
“How are you feeling?” she asked.
“Alive,” Philly replied lightly. “Which feels like an achievement lately.”
Anna huffed a small laugh and sat across from her.
They spoke of trivial things at first. Philly asked her how she was finding Greywood’s mansion. Whether she liked the breakfast. Her own tray was still uncovered. She talked about the ridiculous floral arrangement in the dining hall. A rumor about someone renovating their main hall for the third time in five years.
Anything except what had happened.
Anna watched her carefully as they talked.
Philly laughed in the right places. Rolled her eyes at the right comments. But there was a distance in her gaze, as if she was trying to keep something from coming to the surface.
Finally, she leaned back slightly.
“Do you still love him?” she asked quietly.
Philly didn’t pretend not to understand. She didn’t ask who.
Silence stretched between them. Anna wanted to know. Perhaps that would be the only thing that would stop her from the mission in her fingertips.
“I don’t know,” she admitted at last.
Anna’s chest tightened.
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only honest one,” she said, looking at her. “I don’t know what I feel anymore. It’s not love. I know that.
There was no bitterness in her tone. No longing either. Just fatigue.
Anna studied her face carefully.“Then what is it?”
Philly stared at her hands. “History,” she said. “Habit. The ghost of what we were. Sometimes, I hate him for making me who I've become.”
Anna nodded slowly. She thought of Trent Moon. He never looked for her after the rumors. He simply moved on with Madeline and peeled her photos from the sitting room and their room. She didn’t believe in love or sacrifice anymore.
“And you?” Philly asked suddenly. “Why are you asking?”
She hesitated.
Could she tell her that she had been given an ultimatum by Viktor Calderon to ruin her ex husband or else her sister would be killed? Could she say she wanted to know if she still loved him because if she still loved Alpha Raymond, everything would be complicated?
“I’m just trying to understand the landscape,” she said lightly. “Gossips.”
Philly raised a brow but didn’t press.
They drifted back into lighter conversation after that, and Philly opened her tray of food.
By midmorning, Anna had developed a plan. It was a ridiculous plan. But she pursued it anyway.
If she was going to find the information that Calderon needed, she needed to somehow get close to alpha Raymond. And if Alpha Raymond would not come to her, she would simply exist in spaces he frequented.
Accidentally. Naturally. Innocently.
She began in the sitting room. She chose the armchair closest to the main hallway and opened a book she didn’t read. Every time footsteps echoed, her pulse jumped. Helps passed.
A man who looked important entered briefly and left. No Alpha Raymond. It was as though he wasn't living within the same mansion she was in.
She moved to the veranda overlooking the inner courtyard and busied herself with watching the birds and counting how many flights of stairs it would take to reach each floor.
It got hot in the early afternoon and she relocated to the pool. The water shimmered under the sun, calm and inviting. She removed her shoes and dipped her feet in, allowing the coolness to seep through her.
“Ridiculous,” she muttered and laughed at herself.
What was she thinking? That she’d just stumble upon Alpha Raymond and they'd shake hands and he’d let her into his study? She laughed again, louder this time.
She wandered toward the garden after her time in the pool. The garden was beautiful and even more groomed than the one she had at home. There were a couple of herbs and seeds she wasn’t familiar with. The air was cooler there, and she made a mental note to spend her mornings there before they shoved breakfast down her throat.
She was walking slowly along the stone path when something caught her attention. It was a cluster of flowers she didn’t recognize. Their petals were deep violet at the edges, fading to silver at the center. Almost iridescent in the low light. It was the most beautiful flower she had ever seen.
She crouched slightly, brushing her fingers gently over one bloom.
“They only open at dusk.” She froze.
The voice came from behind her. Close. Very close and very familiar.
She straightened suddenly and nearly lost her balance.
Alpha Raymond stood a few steps away.
He looked different outside the formal spaces of the estate. No formal suits or ties. No assembled authority. Just a dark shirt, sleeves rolled slightly, expression flat. Unreadable.
“You startled me,” she said, composing her face quickly.
“My apologies,” he replied.
His voice was steady. Controlled. But he wasn’t looking directly at her. Not fully.His gaze hovered near her shoulder. Drifted briefly to the flowers. Anywhere but her eyes.
“They’re rare,” he continued. “They don’t thrive in most climates. Philly loved them a lot when she used to garden.”
She wasn’t sure if she heard sadness or happiness in his voice.
“They’re beautiful,” she said.
“Yes.”
Silence followed. The kind that demanded acknowledgment. Any form.
She watched him carefully now and she saw that she wasn’t the only one who was nervous. He shifted his weight once. Cleared his throat lightly and still no sustained eye contact.
“I wanted to thank you,” he said after a moment.
“For what?” she asked, irritated that he couldn’t stand to look her in the face when he spoke to her.
“Philly,” he said. “For yesterday.”
He pocketed his hands and his eyes followed a calling bird. “Thank you for taking care of her even though you didn’t have to.”
She recognised the opening she was looking for. She didn’t care if he couldn’t stand her face.
“It was a pleasure,” she said, forcing her voice to sound as cheerful as possible. “She’s like a sister to me.”
He looked at her now, taking in the beauty of her face against the setting sun. She looked even more like a goddess. His jaw tightened faintly.
“It was nothing.” she added.
“It wasn’t,” he replied gently and stepped forward.
The air felt charged like something was waiting to be said and neither of them wanted to risk being the first.
She straightened fully. If he wouldn’t completely bridge the distance, she would. She stepped forward slightly and extended her hand.
“Thank you, Alpha Raymond. It’s a pleasure to meet you. And I hope we can be better acquaintances.”
Her heart throbbed wildly in her chest as she waited for him to take her hand or reject it. He looked at it, and for the first time in his life, he was unsure of what to do. To touch her hand was to open the doors of want. To ignore her was to cause untold pain he couldn’t fathom yet.
He looked at her blue eyes that promised adventures and for a split second, something flickered there. Not indifference. Not resentment. Something far more dangerous. He took her hand. His grip was firm, but his fingers lingered half a second too long before releasing.
“I hope,” he said quietly, “we can make your stay as comfortable as possible.”
She smiled. “I’m definitely comfortable,” she replied.
He stepped back then, reclaiming his distance like a man aware of edges he shouldn’t cross. And for the first time all day, she realised that he hadn’t just been avoiding her. He had been restraining himself.