(Bella's POV)
She ran, stumbling over her own feet, leaving not just her shirt but her shoes behind. James tried to stand, but I kicked his legs out from under him. Years of training – carefully hidden, deliberately held back – exploded into perfect, violent clarity.
"You disgusting piece of—" My kick cracked ribs. "How dare you—" Another shattered his knee.
He choked out through bloody teeth. "You just a stray... who should have been... put down..."
I grabbed his hair, forcing him to look at me. Gone was the weak foster sister. His wolf whimper in primal fear.
"Touch my things again," I whispered, letting him see the death in my eyes, "spread one more lie about me, and I'll show you exactly what kind of stray I am. They'll never find your body, James. "
Something shifted in his eyes – the arrogance finally giving way to real, bone-deep terror.
I released him, letting him crumple to the floor. "The videos. Delete them. Now."
His trembling fingers fumbled with his phone. I watched him erase every trace, then crushed the device under my heel for good measure.
I ran up the stairs, pried up the floorboard, and grabbed my savings. Ran from the house that had never been home. I ran until the school gates came into view, promising a few hours to figure out my next move.
I was done hiding. Done enduring. Done playing the weak foster child.
The university café buzzed with late morning activity as I tied my black apron. Every movement still sent dull aches through my body. But none of that mattered today. Today was payday.
"Four thousand three hundred," I muttered under my breath, counting my expected earnings. Base salary plus overtime plus the bonus Manager Chen had promised for picking up extra shifts.
Normally, Martha would be waiting at home, hand outstretched for her "share" – which meant everything except the bare minimum she'd allow me to keep for lunch money. "A roof over your head isn't free," she'd always say, as if the pack's monthly stipend for fostering me wasn't enough.
But not today. Today, every penny would be mine. Four thousand three hundred dollars from the café, plus my hidden savings, plus the money from my library job... it wasn't a fortune, but it was enough. Enough to get me to California and rent a small apartment.
"Bella!" Manager Chen's voice snapped me from my thoughts. "Table six needs service!"
I grabbed my notepad, already plotting. I would get off work at three. I'd cash my check immediately, grab my things from the house while everyone was at work, and be on a bus to California by nightfall.
My planning screeched to a halt as I saw who sat at table six.
William.
He looked awful – dark circles under his eyes, hair uncombed. His usual confidence was replaced by something that almost looked like... guilt?
"Bella," he started to stand. "Can we talk?"
"I can take your order," I said coldly, pen poised over my notepad. "That's all."
"Please. About the engagement party... what Sarah said...I have told her to do like that," he blurted out. "I wouldn't hurt... "
The pen snapped in my hand, ink staining my fingers black. "Your order, William. Before I call Manager Chen to reassign your table."
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "For everything. For how things ended. For not standing up to Sarah. For suggesting..." He flushed. "That morning, when you caught us. I was high on Moon Mountain Tea. I never should have suggested..."
"One double espresso," I wrote with a new pen. "Anything else?"
"Bella, please—"
A commotion at the door made us both turn. Sarah stormed in, her pack of followers trailing behind her like well-dressed vultures. Jessica must have seen William here and called her.
"Run," Gina urged. "We can't fight them. Not today. Not when we're so close to escape."
She was right. With one wrong move, Manager Chen would have every right to withhold my pay.
"Well, isn't this cozy?" Sarah's voice dripped honey-coated venom. "Having a little reunion with my mate?"
"Sarah, don't—" William started.
"Shut up, darling." She never took her eyes off me. "I'm just checking on our... waitress. Making sure she's providing adequate service."
My hands trembled slightly as I forced myself to ask, "Can I take your order?"
"Oh, yes." Sarah settled into the chair beside William, making sure her designer dress brushed against him. "I'll have a grande, sugar-free, vanilla soy latte with extra foam at exactly 120 degrees. Think you can handle that, packless?"
Four thousand three hundred dollars. Think of the money. Think of freedom.
I made it immediately as her requirements.
"Oops!" Sarah's hand "slipped" as I set down her drink, knocking the scalding liquid across my arm. The pain was immediate, blistering, I could not help cry out.
"Oh my god, I'm so clumsy!" Her fake concern couldn't hide her satisfaction. "Clean that up, won't you?"
I knelt to pick up the broken cup pieces, my burned arm trembling.
"I heard George lost big again last night," one of Sarah's friends stage-whispered. "Ten thousand to the River Pack. No wonder they keep their little charity case working two jobs."
"Probably why she's trying to steal William back," another added. "Need a rich mate to cover Daddy's gambling debts..."
Sarah's designer heel came down on my hand as I reached for another shard, grinding broken ceramic into my palm. "Careful," she cooed. "You wouldn't want to cut yourself. Blood is so hard to get out of these floors."
Keep breathing. Keep calm.
"You know," Sarah pressed harder, twisting her heel until I felt skin break, "I almost feel sorry for her. It must be so hard, knowing your real mother didn't want you. Working in a café because that's all you'll ever be good for—"
Blood dripped between my fingers, joining the spilled coffee on the floor. Gina raged inside me, begging to shift, to fight.
"That's enough."
The voice cut through the café like a blade of ice. Everyone – wolves and humans alike – fell silent.
He stood in the doorway like something out of a dream. Or maybe a nightmare, depending on which side of his anger you stood. Tall, powerful, with those striking blue eyes.
"Alpha Steele," Sarah jumped to her feet, suddenly pale. "I... we were just..."
"Get. Out." He did not let her finish.
"But Alpha Steele," Sarah's face had gone ghostly pale, but she tried one last desperate play. "You don't understand. She's not what she seems. This... this girl tried to seduce her own adoptive father! She's always causing trouble, trying to steal other wolves' mates—"
The temperature in the café seemed to drop ten degrees. Alexander's eyes flickered with that dangerous crimson I remembered from last night. When he spoke, his voice carried the full weight of Alpha command.
"NOW!"
Sarah and her friends dropped to their knees, their wolves instinctively submitting to the overwhelming power. Even William, a warrior's son, staggered under the pressure.
Sarah scrambled to her feet, nearly tripping over her designer dress in her haste to escape. Her friends followed like scared rabbits, not even daring to look back.
Even William seemed to shrink under that commanding stare. "I'll talk to you later," he mumbled to me before hurrying out.
The café slowly returned to its normal buzz, though I could feel curious eyes on me and my unexpected defender.
"Trouble seems to follow you," he said, approaching the counter with a slight smile. "Or do you attract it deliberately?"
"I was just doing my job," I replied stiffly, remembering his contempt from last night.
"Yes, I can see that." His eyes took in my uniform, the name tag, the professional stance I'd maintained even under Sarah's attack. "I may have... misjudged you yesterday."
He held out his hand. "Alexander Steele. Though my friends call me Alex."
Alexander Steele. The Alpha King's heir. The most powerful wolf in the northern territories. No wonder his presence commanded such immediate respect.
"Bella," I managed, taking his hand. Anyway, he helped me twice. "Bella Bennett. Thank you."
"Well, Bella Bennett," his smile turned playful, "have you learned some manners since last night? Or do I need to save you from more trouble before I get a proper thank you?"
Despite everything, I found myself smiling back.
The afternoon drifted by peacefully after Alexander's intervention. I found myself humming softly as I wiped down tables. My steps were light despite my injuries.
2:50 PM. Ten minutes until my shift ended. Ten minutes until freedom.
"Something feels wrong," Gina suddenly warned.
I looked up, and my heart stopped. Martha stood in the doorway, wearing her best dress – the one she only used for special occasions. Beside her was James, his face still showing faint bruises from our morning encounter, but he was... smiling?
"Mrs. Bennett!" Manager Chen greeted her warmly. "Here for Bella's monthly wages?"
No. No, no, no. This couldn't be happening. I'd been so careful to keep my payday secret—
"Of course," Martha's smile was pure sugar. "Bella works so hard. We're so proud."
My hands trembled as I watched Manager Chen count out my wages. Four thousand three hundred dollars.
"Such a good daughter," Martha cooed, patting my cheek with false affection. "Always helping the family."
James stepped forward, his eyes downcast in a show of remorse that made my skin crawl. "Bella, I... I wanted to apologize. About this morning. About everything."
What game was he playing?
Martha wiped away a theatrical tear. "When James told me how he'd been treating you, how you finally stood up to him... I realized we've been taking you for granted. You're not just our foster daughter – you're family."
"Lies," Gina growled. "All lies."
But I couldn't expose them. Not here, not with Manager Chen watching with approving eyes. Not with my next paycheck depending on maintaining this facade.
"We're going shopping," Martha announced. "Just us girls. Time for you to have something nice."
The expensive boutique downtown was far beyond our usual shopping spots. Martha floated through the racks, pulling out dresses that cost more than I made in a month.
"This one," she held up a stunning red cocktail dress. "Perfect for you."
"I don't need it." I said carefully, watching her reflection in the mirror.
"Oh, you will." She pressed a glass of champagne into my hand – the boutique's complimentary service for preferred customers. "Try it on. My treat."
"No, I don't—" I started to protest, but suddenly found myself surrounded by four shop assistants. Their smiles were too wide and their hands were firm as they guided me toward the fitting room.
Their movements were efficient. I tried to cover myself, uncomfortable with their cold touches, but they were insistent.
"Come now, dear," Martha called sweetly. "Let's see how it looks."
The red fabric slid over my skin like liquid fire, clinging to every curve. Too tight. Too revealing. The neckline plunged dangerously low, and the slit up the side reached mid-thigh.
"Perfect," Martha breathed when they pushed me out of the fitting room. Her eyes gleamed with something that made my stomach turn.
"Something's wrong," Gina warned. "The dress smells strange..."
I inhaled, and caught a strange, sweet scent emanating from the fabric. Like moonflowers, but wrong somehow. Artificial. My head started to spin.
"I need to change," I mumbled, trying to step back into the fitting room. But Martha caught my arm, her nails digging into my skin.
"No, no. Keep it on. I want to take some pictures... for the family."
The room tilted sideways. My legs felt heavy, and Gina's presence in my mind grew fuzzy, distant.
The last thing I saw was Martha's triumphant smile in the mirror, and a text message flashing on her phone: "Price doubled. She's perfect."