Chapter 142

The crisp autumn air carried the scent of fallen leaves as Lillian stepped onto the cobblestone path leading to Blackwood Manor. Her heart pounded in her chest, the weight of recent events pressing heavily on her shoulders. The confrontation with Donovan had left her drained, but she refused to let it break her.

Sebastian stood at the grand entrance, his piercing gaze locking onto hers the moment she appeared. His presence was as commanding as ever, the aura of a Lycan Alpha radiating from him. Yet, there was something softer in his expression now—something that made her pulse quicken.

"You're late," he remarked, though there was no real reproach in his tone.

Lillian exhaled sharply, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Traffic was worse than expected."

A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "Excuses already?"

She rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress the small smile that escaped. "I see you're in a charming mood today."

Before he could retort, Oliver came barreling down the hallway, nearly colliding with Lillian in his excitement. "You're here!" he exclaimed, wrapping his arms around her waist.

She laughed, ruffling his hair. "Missed me that much?"

Oliver nodded vigorously. "Dad was being boring again."

Sebastian arched a brow. "Boring?"

"You were just sitting in your office all day," Oliver accused, sticking out his tongue.

Lillian bit back a laugh as Sebastian sighed dramatically. "Betrayed by my own son."

The lighthearted moment was interrupted when Marcus appeared, his expression grim. "Alpha, we have a situation."

Sebastian's demeanor shifted instantly, the playful glint in his eyes replaced by sharp focus. "What is it?"

Marcus hesitated, glancing at Lillian and Oliver. "Perhaps we should discuss this privately."

Lillian instinctively tightened her grip on Oliver's shoulder, sensing the tension. Whatever it was, it couldn't be good.

Sebastian gave a curt nod before turning to her. "Take Oliver inside. I'll join you shortly."

She wanted to argue—wanted to demand answers—but the look in his eyes silenced her. Instead, she nodded and guided Oliver toward the dining hall, casting one last glance over her shoulder as Sebastian and Marcus disappeared down the corridor.

Something was coming.

And she had a feeling it would change everything.

The expression on Donovan's face when Lillian left the party with her father didn't escape Victoria's notice. There was a raw, aching longing in his gaze—like a lost puppy searching for its owner. It twisted Victoria's heart into knots. She bit her lip hard, refusing to let tears fall in front of Donovan's family. She had worked too hard to earn their approval, and she wouldn’t let that slip away now.

"Victoria, sweetheart, don’t let that insignificant girl upset you," Eleanor murmured, offering a reassuring smile. "She’s beneath you."

Arabella scoffed, crossing her arms. "Honestly, the idea of my brother being with her again makes me physically ill."

That single word—again—snagged Victoria’s attention like a fishhook. Her pulse spiked.

"What do you mean, again?" she demanded, her voice sharper than intended.

Arabella blinked, caught off guard. "Huh?"

"You said again," Victoria pressed. "As if they’ve been together before."

Eleanor’s grip tightened around Arabella’s wrist, making her wince. "She didn’t mean anything by it," Eleanor interjected with an overly bright laugh. "Just a slip of the tongue. She’s exhausted, poor thing."

Arabella’s cheeks flushed. "Right. Just a mistake."

Victoria wasn’t buying it.

Her gaze flicked back to Donovan, who was still staring at the empty space where Lillian had vanished. A cold knot formed in her stomach.

They lied to me.

Forcing a polished smile, she turned back to Eleanor and Arabella. "It was lovely meeting you both. We should get together soon—perhaps for brunch?"

Their eyes lit up instantly.

"We’d adore that," Eleanor gushed.

"Perfect. I’ll get your details from Donovan, and we’ll arrange something at the Silver Crescent Country Club," Victoria said smoothly. The club was exclusive—only the elite were granted entry, and an invitation from her was a golden ticket. Their eager nods told her they understood the privilege.

Without waiting for more pleasantries, Victoria strode toward Donovan. He was so lost in thought he didn’t notice her until she gripped his shoulder.

"I’m exhausted," she said flatly. "Take me somewhere to rest."

He blinked, slow to process her words. "Hmm?"

Her nails dug into her palms. "I said, I need to rest."

Finally, he focused on her. His expression was distant, distracted—like she was an afterthought. It stung.

"You can use my old room upstairs," he said after a beat. "I need to stay down here a while longer."

She nodded stiffly.

He led her through the grand manor, up the winding staircase to his childhood bedroom. The space was a time capsule—trophies lining the shelves, faded video game posters on the walls. It should’ve been endearing, but all she felt was a gnawing suspicion.

Then she saw it.

A framed photo on the nightstand.

Donovan stood beside someone—someone who had been cut out of the picture.

Her breath hitched.

Who was it?

Kelsey’s words echoed in her mind. Again.

Her fingers traced the jagged edges of the missing figure.

Was it Lillian?

The betrayal from yesterday resurfaced—Donovan and Lillian pressed against that tree, his hands on her waist. The memory cracked her heart open all over again.

They both lied.

And now, she was going to find out why.