Ultimatum
1570 Words
The sheets were rumpled and cold when Sophie ran her fingers through them, the pillow Nicholas had placed between them, like they were a pair of Puritans saving themselves for marriage, before passing out in a drunken heap, resting back in its rightful place.
She sighed tiredly as she stared at the fluffy pillow, then at the ceiling with a soft frown.
Last night had been a mess, but what worried her wasn't his family's behavior—it was his.
It was sad, to say the least, watching a man who was usually so arrogant and cocky be reduced to a drunk because of his own family.
It made her worry that that would be her future, the trod-on in-law whose husband refused to stand up for her.
The sound of a door opening drew her eyes to the left, where Nicholas was stepping out of his walk-in closet.
He was dressed immaculately as always—a dark blue shirt that hugged his biceps and chest, slick light gray pants, and a pair of loafers that made him look as pretentious as he was handsome.
He noticed her, electric blue eyes narrowing at her as his lips twitched with a frown.
"Good morning," she greeted first, rising to a seat. "I didn't know werewolves got hangover sick, but we learn something new every day."
She teased with a soft smile, but Nicholas was not in the mood for humor.
"Last night was a disgrace," he declared, making his way over to her side of the bed with short, heavy steps, as if he was trying to stop himself from stomping—fighting to maintain the picture of control he had created for her after showing weakness during last night's dinner.
*Mine or yours?* Sophie wanted to ask, but she was smarter than that, so she simply nodded.
"Your family hates me. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if the next attack would be your mom clawing off my face," she smiled at the grim picture as she slipped out of bed with a long stretch.
"This is serious, Sophie," he argued as if she did not already know.
"Humor's the best medicine for everything," she preached with a confident smile.
"The plague?" He asked dryly.
Her smile crumbled, and she frowned thoughtfully. "Well, no, but—"
A knock on the door cut her off, and Nicholas set out to answer it.
Their visitor was one of the butlers, who gave Sophie a scathing look before addressing Nicholas.
"Mrs. Bogomolov has requested you and the young lady join the family for breakfast."
Nicholas agreed, dismissed the man, and then turned to Sophie, his brows slightly creased. "Do you have any appropriate clothes for this?"
Her lips parted, a snarky response loaded on the tip of her tongue, but the look on his face—anxious and disheveled like she had never seen him—caused Sophie to shake her head instead.
"Alright," he hummed, nodding to himself. "Take a shower, a quick one if you will, while I put together an outfit."
He disappeared into the closet before she could speak, leaving her to do as instructed.
Sophie had not known what to expect from Nicholas, but the outfit he passed through the sliver in the bathroom door—because she absolutely refused to let him see her nude—was stunning.
A cream-colored blouse with billowing sleeves and a low neckline that stopped just shy of being inappropriate, tucked into high-waisted, wide-leg brown pants, paired with black heels that were a size too big but too beautiful for any complaints.
Paired with it was a simple yet beautiful gold earring and necklace set that Nicholas had gifted her.
It made her feel confident and untouchable, like Aunt Lucia during her high-society wife days when she shut down anyone who dared talk down to her because she was human.
Her smile was wide, the click of her heels sure and confident as she strutted down the halls of the Alpha’s residence beside Nicholas—past all the people who bowed to him while their eyes glared at her.
"You got my measurements slightly wrong, but you've got good taste in clothes, so I can forgive that," she teased as they came to a stop in front of the closed door leading to the dining room.
Nicholas did not turn as he responded. "The measurements are off because those clothes aren't meant for you. They belong to Georgia."
Her smile dulled, and her cheeks grew warm with embarrassment and mortification.
The doors to the dining room opened, forcing her to try to swallow the sudden itch the clothes on her skin caused.
His ex's clothes.
The Bogomolov family was seated in the same positions as last night, and their eyes followed the pair as they traveled through the room and settled into their places.
"Good morning, Sophie," greeted Gladys with a soft smile.
It looked so out of place on her face that it took Sophie a few seconds to register it was directed at her.
"Good morning," she responded, eyes flitting to Nicholas briefly.
He looked just as startled by his mother’s behavior.
"Our first impression was not the best, but I hope we can move past it and build a relationship."
"I..."
"And as a peace offering, I had breakfast prepared to suit your tastes. A reminder of home, if you will."
She waved at the servers, and they jumped into action, transferring dishes from the silver carts parked to the side onto the table, each plate covered with a lid that hid the dish from view.
Her plate was set before her by a gloved hand, and she smiled at Gladys, trying to ignore the sudden feeling of dread that washed over her as she caught a whiff of what was under the lid.
Alpha Nathan said nothing as he lifted his cover, revealing a large plate consisting of meats and eggs—a healthy meal for a shifter.
The others followed after the patriarch, Nicholas and Louis' plates quite similar to their father’s, while Gladys' plate held less protein with a single toast.
Sophie favored vegetables and fruits, but beggars couldn't be choosers, and she did not want to risk insulting Gladys by asking for a less protein-rich breakfast.
The metal was cold against her palm as she raised the lid. Her lips parted in shock when she saw the contents of her meal.
Hers was not a plate but a bowl filled with meat, yes, but a different sort from the cuts the rest of the family was eating.
"What is this?" Nicholas growled, his eyes flashing as he turned his glare on his smiling mother.
"Offal soup," the brown-haired woman pointed out, meeting Sophie's stunned stare with an unblinking gaze. "A staple amongst the less fortunate, I have been told."
It was vile, pieces of unrecognizable organs floating in what looked like dishwater. The remnants of the uncleaned intestines once belonged to whatever poor animal had been killed for Gladys' sick joke, causing a foul smell to emanate from the bowl.
Sophie turned away from the food with a scrunch of her nose. Her eyes began to burn as wetness filled them, and the humiliation of knowing Gladys had won and reduced her to tears almost made her let them fall.
Her eyes went to Nicholas, the only safety she knew among them, and whatever he saw in them caused all restraint to snap.
"You are vile, Gladys, and I curse the day the Goddess created you."
The gray-eyed woman reared back like she had been slapped, her lips parting in affront.
"Control yourself, Nicholas." Nathan waved carelessly as he cut into a sausage. "It was a harmless joke..."
"Your demented mate who you can't seem to control played to send a message that has been well received."
The clatter of Louis’ fork, when it dropped on his plate, was deafening as the shocked looks of everyone in the room fell on Nicholas.
No one interrupted the Alpha when he was speaking, let alone accuse him of not having authority over his mate, who suddenly looked regretful about her cruel joke.
Nathan's gaze narrowed on his youngest son, and Sophie unconsciously held onto Nicholas, as if she could protect him from an Alpha.
"All this for some human's c*nt?"
Nicholas chuckled darkly. "You'd know a thing or two about losing your mind for c*nt. Wouldn't you, Father?"
Sophie jumped as the table rattled underneath Nathan's clenched fists, the bang of his chair as it hit the ground causing her heart to skip a beat.
The Alpha of Hill End stood at around 6'7 with a figure and presence that made him seem even larger. Nicholas was a tall man in his own right but was dwarfed by his father, yet he stood too, facing the older man head-on.
"The fact you remain standing with your heart in your chest is only because you are my son, but that is an honor that can easily be revoked if you force my hand."
Sophie watched the slow c**k of Nicholas' head with worry.
"Are you seriously threatening to disown me?"
"If I have to. If you continue with this act of rebellion, cry for attention... whatever the hell this is," he waved at Sophie with a sneer, "you can kiss the Bogomolov name and all its privileges goodbye."
- Writer
