"What do you want?" I asked coldly, making sure she could see the hatred in my eyes—even though I was supposed to be faking memory loss.
Anita folded her arms across her chest and glared at me. "You spent the night in Lennox's room, didn't you? What were you doing there?" Her voice was sharp, laced with jealousy so obvious it was almost pathetic.
I scoffed. "Why should I tell you that?"
Her eyes narrowed. "Because Lennox is my man, and you—you're Gabriel's wife, remember? So, tell me—what do you think your husband would say if he found out you spent the night in Alpha Lennox's room?"
I wanted to snap at her, to tell her to go to hell and that I didn't care—but I held myself back. I had to keep pretending. Gabriel was my husband, and I needed to act the part.
I took a shaky breath, forcing my expression to shift into one of panic. "Please, Anita," I whispered, stepping back. "I didn't mean to cause any problems."
My voice trembled just enough to sound believable.
"I—I had a bad dream and couldn't sleep. I went to Lennox because… I thought seeing him might help calm me down. That's all. I swear, nothing happened."
Anita's brows furrowed, and I saw a flicker of doubt cross her face. Good. My words were getting to her.
She stepped closer, her voice low and threatening. "Stay away from the Alphas, Madam. It's for your own good. If you don't, I have plenty of lies I could tell Alpha Gabriel." Content originally comes from novｅlfire.net
I clenched my fists at my sides, biting back every insult I wanted to throw in her face.
With one final glare, Anita turned and stormed down the hallway.
As she left, Lolita and Nora approached my door, concern etched on their faces.
"Is everything alright?" Lolita asked gently.
"Yes," I nodded, forcing a small smile. "Everything's fine."
I turned and walked back into the room. The girls followed, closing the door behind them.
I went to the pillow and pulled the document back out, placing it on the bed.
Lolita's eyes widened slightly. "That's the file, isn't it?" she whispered.
I glanced around cautiously, then leaned in. "You said you need to get this to your uncle, right?"
"Yes. The earlier, the better," Lolita nodded. "I'll go out today," she said quietly. "I'll hide the file beneath some clothes and take it to him."
I nodded firmly. "Good. Thank you," I said sincerely.
I turned to Nora, handing her the key. "While we are having breakfast, I want you to sneak to Lennox's room and drop this key inside the third drawer."
Nora nodded and took the key from me.
Lolita spoke up. "We need to get you dressed. The Alphas personally requested that you come down for breakfast today."
My frown deepened. "Great," I muttered under my breath.
They picked out a blue dress that hugged my curves modestly and brought out the warmth in my skin tone.
Once I was ready, they led me through the corridors of the pack house.
When we reached the dining room, I froze in the doorway.
The triplets were already seated.
But what struck me wasn't her smug expression—it was the shirts the triplets were wearing.
I blinked. I knew those shirts. I would recognize them anywhere.
The faded navy-blue fabric. The simple stitching. The tiny wolf emblem I embroidered by hand, clumsily sewn into the bottom hem.
Those were the shirts I bought them for their eighteenth birthday.
I was thirteen then—barely understanding what love truly meant. I had saved my lunch money for months just to get them those shirts. They were too big for them back then.
Now… they had clearly overgrown them. The sleeves were tight around their biceps, the fabric stretched across their broad chests.
And still, they wore them.
My eyes settled on the table.
The table was set beautifully. warm buttered toast, scrambled eggs, cinnamon rolls, even that strawberry jam I used to hoard when no one was looking. Every single dish was my favorite.
A realization hit me.
They were trying to make me remember.
But the joke was on them.
I schooled my expression into something neutral, innocent.
Walking toward the table, I tilted my head. "Isn't that shirt a little tight on you?" I asked casually, glancing between them.
Louis, who had a mouthful of toast, smiled and nodded. "Yeah. Our mate got them for us on our eighteenth birthday."
My breath caught, but I forced a smile. "She must've loved you guys a lot."
There was a brief pause.
Then Louis shrugged, his voice low. "I don't think so."
His words hit me hard.
They think I never loved them?
I looked down, hiding the flicker of pain in my eyes.
They had no idea. The feelings I had for them. Even when they treated me like trash, I still never stopped loving them.
I pressed my hands together, forcing myself not to react. I had to keep pretending. But inside, the ache burned.
"I see," I murmured, taking a seat. "Well, the shirt still looks good on you, even if it's a little tight."
They chuckled softly, but I could feel their eyes on me—watching, hoping, waiting for something to surface.
But I hid my emotions well.
Just as I picked up my knife to spread the jam, Anita's voice cut into the air, all sweetness and fake concern.
"I heard you had a rough night," she said, tilting her head innocently. "Poor thing. Bad dreams?"
I looked at her slowly, offering the same fake sweetness she was throwing at me.
"Not as bad as waking up and realizing your best friend's been sleeping with your men," I said calmly, meeting her eyes.
Anita blinked, caught off guard. "Excuse me?"
"I heard you were her best friend," I said, my voice low. "Their Luna's best friend. And yet here you are… a concubine to the very men she loved. That's got to sting."
The smile dropped from her face.
"I never saw you—" she started, then quickly caught herself, her eyes darting around.
She cleared her throat. "I was never her best friend. I hated her."
The room went still. Even the sound of forks clinking on plates stopped.
I tilted my head, still calm. "So you admit it. You hated your best friend. The one who trusted you."
Anita's face flushed red. "Enough."
"You're a bad friend," I said simply. "To betray someone who trusted you… that says more about you than her."
"Enough!" Anita snapped, her voice shrill now. "We are at the dining table. Show some manners!"
I set my fork down gently and met her gaze head-on.
"Don't talk to me ever like that," I said, my voice cool and composed. "I'm a wife to an Alpha. I am a Luna. And you?" I let my eyes drift over her dismissively. "You're just a concubine."
Her jaw tightened. Her lips pressed into a thin, furious line.
But she didn't speak again.
Silence stretched across the table while I lifted my cup to my lips, sipping slowly, as if her presence didn't rattle me in the slightest—when in reality, all I wanted was to scream the truth into their faces.