Chapter 5

Elara POV

Twenty-four hours later, the cold stone of the Great Hall's fireplace was replaced by the suffocating expanse of the Formal Dining Room. The massive mahogany table was set for five, the heavy steel cutlery arranged with geometric perfection beneath the glaring crystal chandelier.

Declan stood at the head of the table, adjusting his cuffs.

"Does Karly know about this little performance?" I asked, my voice tight, trying to pierce his armor. "Or is this just another lie to keep your mistress pacified?"

He didn't even blink. His gaze swept over me, a physical weight that made my skin crawl. "Stow your scent of fear and rebellion, Elara," he commanded, his Alpha tone vibrating through the floorboards, demanding absolute submission. "You smell like a weak Rogue. Tonight, you are my mate, not my prisoner. At least smell the part."

Before I could respond to the humiliation, the heavy chime of the doorbell echoed through the manor. The torture had officially begun.

In the grand foyer, the heavy oak doors swung open to reveal my stepmother, Lydia, wrapped in a loud leopard-print coat, her brassy blonde hair stiff with hairspray. Beside her, my stepbrother Joseph sweated through a suit that was a size too small.

Lydia lunged forward, enveloping me in a suffocating hug that reeked of cheap floral perfume-a jarring contrast to the oppressive smoked cedarwood and cold steel of Declan's aura.

"Look at this luxury," Lydia hissed directly into my ear, her nails digging into my back. "While we are practically starving in the streets."

She pulled back with a wide, fake smile as Declan approached. He wore his billionaire CEO mask flawlessly, offering a gracious, blinding smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Lydia. Joseph. Welcome. Let us move to the drawing room."

He expertly delayed the inevitable money talk, prolonging the agony.

In the drawing room, the air was as freezing as a wine cellar. While Declan poured a drink for a visibly trembling Joseph across the room, Lydia cornered me by the stone fireplace.

"You need to make him pay Joseph's debt tonight," she ordered in a vicious whisper. "The Rogues are threatening to break his legs."

"I don't control the Alpha, Lydia," I muttered, staring at the floor.

Her fingers clamped around my upper arm like a vice. "Don't forget what you are-a wolfless Omega. Your only value is keeping him entertained. Use your body if you have to. Or do you want your mother's ventilator unplugged because we go bankrupt?"

A wave of icy nausea washed over me. She was willing to sacrifice my mother's life for her son's gambling debts. I ripped my arm from her grip. "No."

Desperate to end this nightmare, I crossed the room to Declan. "Just pay them," I whispered, keeping my back to my family. "Give them the money and make them leave."

Declan's lips curled into a cruel smirk. He glanced at Joseph with absolute disgust. "I will handle their little Rogue problem. But everything has a price." He leaned in, his breath brushing my ear. "A Pack photographer is coming after dessert. You will sit on my lap. You will smile, and you will allow me to touch your neck-a display of a Marking to kill the rumors of our discord. Do we have a deal?"

Selling my soul to protect my mother's lifeline. Again. "Fine," I choked out.

By the time we moved back to the dining room for dinner, the tension was thick enough to choke on. I pushed the food around my plate, my senses hyper-aware.

While Declan was momentarily distracted by Lydia's incessant chatter, my eyes darted to Joseph. He was hunched over, his sweaty hands hidden beneath the table, the faint glow of a phone screen illuminating his lap.

He was typing frantically. As he shifted to put the phone away, the screen tilted just enough for my human eyes to catch the notification preview.

*K.R.: Is he buying it?*

My blood turned to ice. *K.R.* Karly Rowe.

The realization hit me like a physical blow. Joseph wasn't just here to beg for money to pay off Rogues. He was Karly's spy. They were working together, orchestrating a con right under the Alpha's nose.

"To family," Declan suddenly announced, raising his crystal glass. His icy gaze cut across the table, locking onto mine with a silent demand for submission. "And to loyalty."

I raised my water glass, my hand perfectly steady. Declan thought he was the puppet master, controlling my parasitic family and my tragic fate. But as I looked at the man who had destroyed my life, my fingers tightened around the cool glass, guarding a secret that could tear his perfect world apart.