In Bed With My Ex's Brother-in-Law

Chapter 4 A Revenge Plan

Elena's POV

I woke up to the steady beep of a machine and the sharp sting of antiseptic in the air. My head throbbed as I tried to move.

"Elena! You're awake!"

A voice broke through the haze. I turned to see May, my best friend. She was right beside my bed, eyes red and tears sliding freely down her cheeks.

"That bastard," she snapped, gripping my hand tightly. "How could Mark do this to you? Cheating on you like that, then going ahead with that shameless wedding. If I see him, I swear…"

"May…"My throat felt dry. "What…how did you know?"

She gave me an incredulous look. "Are you serious? It's plastered everywhere. The wedding coverage, all that Thompson family money and influence...I knew seeing it would destroy you."

Flashes came back—pouring rain, rogue wolves circling, that kiss inside Eric's expensive car, and his scent still haunting my memory. Heat crept into my face unbidden.

"I'm okay," I mumbled. "But how did you even know where I was?"

"The hospital called me." She sniffed, wiping her face. "You listed me as your emergency contact. Thank God you did. When they said you collapsed, I almost lost my mind."

I nodded slowly. She didn't mention anyone else. No Alpha. No man with electrifying eyes and a voice that still echoed in my head.

I looked away and told myself not to be foolish. Eric was Bella's brother and part of Mark's family now. He was a powerful Alpha. Someone far above my world.

Whatever happened before I blacked out meant nothing and shouldn't have happened, like he said.

May's voice pulled me out of my thoughts.

"I swear, Elena, I won't let this go," she said, her fists clenched. "Mark thinks he can humiliate you and walk away? We should plan a revenge he'll never see coming. I already have a few ideas—he'd be completely ruined."

"Don't," I cut in quietly.

She blinked at me. "Why not?"

I looked at her, then turned away. "I don't have the time or energy to plot revenge on Mark," I said quietly. "It won't change anything."

"That's not true," she snapped. "People can't just treat you like trash and go scot-free."

"They can," I said calmly. "Especially people like him."

May frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Mark isn't just Mark anymore," I said. "He's married into the Thompson family now. He has power. Money. Connections. What am I? A human girl from nowhere. I can't fight someone like that."

She opened her mouth. Closed it.

"And even if I tried," I continued, "what would I gain? More trouble? A record? I need my severance. I need a new job. I need to survive."

She stared at me as if seeing me for the first time. "Are you... are you okay?"

I let out a hollow laugh. "Do I look okay?"

"No," she admitted quietly. "But this isn't you, Elena. You're acting like it didn't hurt."

"Of course it hurt," I said. "But I can't afford to fall apart."

Her expression softened. "Elena..."

"I'm not some rich girl who can lock herself in her room and cry for months," I continued. "I have bills. Rent. My grandmother needs money for her treatment."

May swallowed hard. "Your grandmother..."

"I send money home every month," I said. "That doesn't stop just because Mark turned out to be a monster."

She shook her head slowly. "You're too strong for your own good."

"Not strong," I corrected. "Just realistic."

I leaned back against the pillow. "If anything, I should be grateful."

"Grateful?" she echoed, incredulous.

"Yeah." A sad smile touched my lips. "At least I found out who he really was before I gave him more of myself. Before I wasted more years."

I managed a small, wry smile. "Small mercies, right?"

May looked like she wanted to argue, to offer comfort or rage or reckless plans. But before she could, the door opened.

A doctor walked in, clipboard in hand.

"Time for a quick checkup," he said.

May fell silent, but her gaze remained fixed on me, heavy with unspoken concern.

"Good morning, Elena," the doctor greeted, his tone professionally pleasant. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," I managed, though my head still felt stuffed with cotton. "When can I leave?"

"Soon," he assured me with a nod. "You arrived with a high fever and severe shock, but you've responded remarkably well to treatment."

As he spoke, my eyes wandered around the room—taking in the expansive windows, the plush furniture, the private bathroom tucked neatly in the corner. A knot of dread tightened in my stomach.

"Doctor," I ventured carefully, "this room... it's rather nice."

He smiled benignly. "You're in one of our VIP suites."

My heart stuttered. "VIP suite?" I struggled to sit up straighter. "There must be some mistake. I can't possibly afford this."

"Don't worry about that," he said smoothly. "All expenses have been prepaid."

I went still. "Prepaid? By whom?"

The doctor glanced at his tablet. "Alpha Eric Thompson. He's covering everything—the room, all medications, any follow-up care you might need."

A strange warmth flooded the room. "Oh," I breathed, the sound small and inadequate.

He nodded politely. "Rest well." And then he was gone.

Silence crashed down in his wake.

May stared at me, her jaw hanging somewhere near her collarbone. "Wait. Eric Thompson? As in... Bella's brother?"

I dropped my gaze to my hands. "Yes."

Her eyes were saucers. "Elena, you never said you knew someone like that."

"I don't, really," I said quickly—too quickly. "Not like that. He just... helped. After the rogues attacked. He intervened."

I tried to sound casual, matter-of-fact. But it wasn't that simple, and I knew it. There was something between Eric and me—even if it existed only in my fevered imagination.

Still, a hollow ache settled in my chest. He hadn't come. He hadn't even visited. May would have told me if he had. That alone told me everything I needed to know about where I stood. So why pay for everything?

Guilt, maybe. For what almost happened in his car. Hush money to ensure I stayed quiet. Or compensation—because his sister had married the man who shattered me.

I closed my eyes, my thoughts spinning.

Whatever this was, I couldn't afford to read into it. Men like Eric Thompson didn't do anything without calculation.

And somehow, that thought hurt more than if he had.