My Sister Stole My Husband,Now Two Alphas Want Me

Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Evelyn’s POV

The metallic taste of blood burst across my tongue.

I bit down hard—harder than I’d ever done anything in my life—sinking my teeth into Dominic’s bottom lip until I tasted the copper sharpness of his Alpha blood.

A choked, low growl ripped from his throat. His head snapped back for a fraction of a second, his gray eyes flashing a terrifying, molten gold in the harsh light of the cellar. Before I could pull air back into my lungs, his long, brutal fingers wrapped around my throat.

He didn't crush my windpipe, but the pressure was absolute. He slammed me back against the cold concrete wall, pinning me effortlessly. My feet barely touched the floor, the red silk of Tasha’s dress tearing slightly against the rough stone. The air in my chest burned, but when I looked into his eyes, I didn't let myself flinch. I glared back through the tears spilling over my lashes.

"Dangerous little rat," Dominic spat, his thumb pressing firmly into the side of my neck, right over my hammering pulse. "You think you can bite me?"

"That's enough, Dominic."

Killian’s voice cut through the dark room like a thrown blade.

He hadn't moved from his spot against the far wall, but the sheer weight of his Alpha aura settled over the small space, smothering the rage radiating off Dominic. Killian pushed off the wall, stepping into the dim light. His dark eyes flicked from Dominic’s bleeding lip to my pale, gasping face.

"She's a nurse, not a plaything," Killian said, his voice terrifyingly calm. "And right now, she owes a debt to the House for breaking protocol."

Dominic’s jaw clenched, the golden hue in his eyes slowly receding back into icy gray. For two excruciating seconds, he held me there, letting me feel every ounce of his lethal strength. Then, with a harsh exhale, he released his grip.

I slid down the wall, my knees giving out as I hit the floor. I clutched my neck, drawing in ragged, burning gasps of air.

"You'll pay the debt of your life in other ways," Killian said, looking down at me with cold, unreadable detachment. "I hope you're good with cleaning and scrubbing."

Without another word, both Alphas turned on their heels and walked out of the cellar. The heavy iron door slammed shut behind them, though this time, the bolt didn't slide into place.

I stayed on the cold floor, my entire body shivering uncontrollably. The physical pain in my throat was nothing compared to the violent war raging in my chest. My resurrected wolf was clawing at my ribs, confused, terrified, and screaming from the sudden withdrawal of their overwhelming scents.

What is wrong with me? I thought, curling my arms around my knees as silent, bitter tears soaked my face. Why did my wolf respond to them?

"Get up, child."

The voice was soft, dry, and creaked like old floorboards.

I jumped, my eyes snapping open as I scrambled backward. Standing in the doorway was an elderly woman. She wore a pristine, crisp white apron over a plain navy dress. Her hair was pulled back into a neat silver bun, and her face was lined with deep, weathered wrinkles, but her dark eyes were sharp and clear.

"Don't be scared," the old woman said, stepping into the light and holding out a warm, calloused hand toward me. "I'm Nana. I'm the head of the household around here. The boys sent me down to fetch you."

I stared at her hand, my heart hammering against my ribs. "The... the boys?"

"Dominic and Killian," she clarified, a faint, tired smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "They think they rule the world, but somebody still has to make sure the kitchen and everywhere else is clean. Come along now. Standing in this damp cellar won't do your lungs any favors."

I hesitated, but the quiet authority in her tone felt entirely different from the oppressive power of the Alphas. Slowly, I pushed myself off the ground and followed her down the winding corridor.

She led me up a back service staircase, completely bypassing the main club floor, and into a massive, commercial-style kitchen. It smelled heavenly—a rich blend of roasted garlic, rosemary, and freshly baked bread that instantly made my stomach hollow out with hunger.

"Sit," Nana ordered, gesturing toward a heavy wooden island in the center of the room.

I sat down on the stool, my hands still shaking violently as I tried to smooth down the ruined red silk of my dress. Nana filled a tall glass with ice water from the tap, walked over, and set it firmly in front of me.

"Drink," she commanded gently.

The moment the cold glass touched my lips, the floodgates opened. I took one sip, and then the dry, silent weeping turned into shuddering, ugly hicupping sobs. I buried my face in my hands, my shoulders shaking as years of suppressed pain, betrayal, and sheer terror came pouring out of me all at once.

Nana didn't pull away. She stepped in, wrapping her soft, apron-clad arms around my shoulders and pulling me against her chest. She smelled like cinnamon and clean laundry.

"Shh, oh dear, let it out," Nana whispered, rocking me gently. "What is it, sweet girl? Tell me what happened."

Between breathless gasps and uncontrollable hiccups, the truth tumbled out of my mouth like broken glass. I told her everything.

I told her about Marcus—my husband, my fated mate, the man who was supposed to protect me forever. And then I told her about Isabelle. My own flesh and blood. My younger sister.

"She took him," I sobbed into Nana's apron, the words cutting my throat like glass. "Isabelle... my own younger sister. She seduced my husband under my own roof. Marcus discarded me like garbage for her, threw me away, and ripped our bond apart until my wolf died inside me. They left me with nothing."

And then I told her about my mother lying in the ICU, and how every second I spent locked in this golden cage was a second closer to her life support being pulled because I couldn't pay the bills.

Nana listened in complete silence, her arms tightening around me as I spoke. When I finally ran out of words, leaving only wet, ragged breaths in the quiet kitchen, the old woman let out a long, heavy sigh.

"Oh dear," Nana murmured, wiping a stray tear from my cheek with the corner of her apron. "Your younger sister is a monster. Plain and simple. And as for Marcus... a husband who discards his wife for her own younger sister is no man at all. He is trash. I do believe you will find a far better mate, Evelyn. You are still so young, and so beautiful."

"That's not my problem!" I blurted out, my voice cracking as panic surged through me again. I pulled back from her embrace, my eyes wide with desperation. "I don't care about a mate! Marcus destroyed my life, but I don't care about him or Isabelle anymore! I'm terrified of leaving my mother alone in that hospital! I need to get out of here. I need to pay her medical bills, not be locked up in this place scrubbing floors!"

Nana looked at me, her expression softening with deep, profound pity. "Evelyn..."

"Please," I begged, leaning across the wooden island. "You said you run the house. You have keys, right? You know the exits. Help me get out."

Nana paused, her dark eyes searching my face for a long, agonizing moment. Finally, she leaned in close and whispered, "All right, child. Listen to me. We will try and come up with a plan..."

The words had barely left her mouth when a sudden, terrifying realization slammed into my chest like an arctic wave.

My blood ran instantly cold. My breath hitched in my throat.

What am I doing?

I stared at Nana, my brain spiraling into sheer, unadulterated paranoia. She works for them. She called Dominic and Killian 'her boys.' She has lived in this den of monsters for years. Why would an elderly woman risk her life, her position, and the wrath of two supreme Alphas for a girl she met ten minutes ago?

She's testing me, my panicked mind screamed. It’s a trap. She’s going to go straight to Killian and Dominic and tell them I’m planning to escape.

"No," I stammered out, backing off the stool so fast it nearly toppled over onto the tile floor. "No, no, no. I... I don't need help."

Nana blinked, startled by my sudden shift. "Evelyn, what's wrong?"

"Nothing!" I gasped, clutching the glass of water like a shield as I backed away toward the commercial sinks. "I don't need a plan! I don't want to leave. I'm fine! I'll clean! Where are the mops? Show me what to scrub and I'll do it!"

I was trembling so hard the water sloshed over the rim of the glass, soaking my hands. My own younger sister had stabbed me in the back to steal my husband. Marcus had thrown me away like trash. In a world built on monsters and betrayal, I couldn't afford to trust anyone—especially not an old woman who belonged to the Alphas.

Nana stood up slowly, watching me with a look of profound, sorrowful understanding. "Child, I promise you—"

"Just give me the bucket, Nana," I begged, my voice barely a whisper as I shut down every emotion inside me, locking my heart behind a wall of ice. "Please. Just give me the bucket."