Alpha and the Cursed Mate

Chapter 5 : Surprise!

“How do I get out of this mansion?” Moira asked, stopping on the spacious terrace flanked by two towering marble pillars.

She looked around anxiously. It was pitch black at night; only the moonlight and the lights in the garden broke the darkness. Then she remembered — this place was still in the Quinn family's exclusive residential area. Without help, it would be almost impossible to find her way.

“Stay with me. I'll take you.'

Moira gasped when her arm was grabbed. She turned too quickly, lost her balance and fell instantly into Adrian's embrace.

His chest welcomed her warmly. For the umpteenth time, she heard his deep, regular heartbeat, which was strangely very soothing. This made her face flush and her ears throb.

She quickly pulled away, hugging her arms to herself to hold back her surging nervousness.

'Thank you. You're very kind,' she said softly, not daring to look up and meet Aidrian's gaze.

Aidrian didn't reply. He just nodded slowly, his gaze difficult to interpret as if he was reading something behind her nervousness. Then he moved around the black car parked in front of the main door.

The passenger door opened. 'Get in. I'll make sure you get home safely.'

With small steps and an irregular heartbeat, Moira got into the car.

***

The Dunne family mansion.

Soft echoes of classical music accompanied the laughter and cheers of guests filling the luxurious hall.

Gold and white balloons decorated the ceiling, and tall pillars were wrapped in satin cloth.

Servants bustled about, carrying champagne and silver dishes.

Standing gracefully beside Olivian Dunne, Tristyn Clancy looked down shyly, her cheeks flushing red. Olivian's hand held hers confidently.

“Olivian, it's time,” Evelyn Dunne whispered excitedly from not far behind them. “Announce it! Let the world know.'

'We've all been waiting for this happy news,' replied one of the male guests, patting Olivian on the shoulder.

Olivia smiled, then turned to the guests she had invited, who were looking at her expectantly.

'There's something I want to announce tonight,' she said, raising her glass loudly. “Tristyn and I are getting engaged!”

Applause erupted. Tristyn bowed her head even lower, playing the part of the shy but happy bride-to-be. Evelyn wiped the corners of her eyes, looking moved.

‘Finally, some good news after all the chaos,’ her mother muttered.

However, before the cheers had died down completely, footsteps could be heard echoing from the main door.

Gradually, the sound of high heels broke the rhythm of the music. The guests turned their heads, curious.

Olivian, who had been grinning proudly, suddenly fell silent. The glass in her hand almost slipped. Her eyes widened. Her face paled. Her lips parted silently.

'It can't be,' she muttered.

Tristyn turned to follow Olivian's gaze. His eyes widened when he saw Moira MacEvoy standing in the doorway. She was wearing a simple black dress and her long hair was loose. She had a calm but piercing gaze.

The room instantly fell silent.

“Olivian...” Moira's voice was clear, carrying across the grand hall with a thrilling calm. 'What party is there tonight?'

She stepped slowly inside, each step seeming to cut through the smooth marble floor.

'Why are you still here?' she continued softly. ‘Why didn’t you look for me after I disappeared that night?’

Olivian didn't answer. His hands were clenched at his sides.

'I was kidnapped, beaten and thrown into the forest,' Moira continued, her voice trembling. ‘But someone helped me. A kind man.”

Whispers began to rise among the guests.

“Thrown into the forest?”

“Wait, who is he really?”

Tristyn grabbed Olivian's arm.

'You said he was gone,' she whispered frantically.

Olivia held her breath, trying to find the words. But her eyes flashed red as she gripped her wine glass tightly.

'Moira, I don't know what to do.'

“You don't know?” Moira raised her eyebrows, a faint smile playing on her lips. 'I don't blame you, Olivian. Maybe you've been too busy.'

Evelyn took a step forward, her eyes narrowing.

‘What do you mean by showing up like this, Moira?’

'I’m sorry, ma’am,' Moira replied calmly. ‘I thought that, as a member of this family, I still had the right to come. Isn’t that so?”

No one answered. Silence. Some of the guests began to stare at the Dunne family, looking surprised and suspicious.

‘I just wanted to make sure you were all OK after I left so suddenly. I miss this mansion.”

Moira said this in a sad tone.

Olivia bowed her head, her lips pressed tightly together. Tristyn stared cynically. Evelyn just sighed deeply, unable to say anything.

Moira smiled again, this time more broadly and more frighteningly.

'Please continue the party. Don't worry about me. I just want to see who has replaced me.'

She then walked over to stand among the guests, as if she were a spectator at a party designed to replace her.

Before the whispers of the guests had completely subsided, Evelyn Dunne strode arrogantly towards Moira.

'Forgive us,' she said to the guests, then grabbed Moira's arm forcefully. 'It seems there has been a misunderstanding tonight.'

Moira held back. Her gaze remained calm.

'Allow me to introduce,' Evelyn continued, smiling falsely, 'this woman, our former maid, who disappeared suddenly yesterday.'

Some of the guests looked at each other, whispering uncomfortably.

‘Madam Evelyn,’ Moira murmured softly. ‘If I'm just a servant, why are you so bothered by my presence?’

Evelyn turned quickly, but her smile was forced. Her hand gripped even tighter.

“Enough.” Her voice was now audible only to Moira. ‘You want to ruin tonight? I'll make you regret it.'

Without waiting for a response, Evelyn dragged Moira out of the ballroom.

The clinking of glasses and soft music faded instantly, replaced by the sound of hurried footsteps in the marble hallway.

They arrived in the kitchen. The atmosphere was much dimmer. There were no servants. Only the smell of burnt butter lingered, and the tiles were cold underfoot.

'Listen carefully,' Evelyn hissed, pushing Moira until she leaned against the wooden table. 'Don't you dare ruin Olivian and Tristyn's engagement. If you say anything tonight, I'll torture you like I did before. Or worse.'

Moira remained silent. Her gaze was piercing, but she didn't say a word.

“Do you think Olivian still wants you?” Evelyn continued sarcastically. 'He'll divorce you, Moira. Not today, maybe tomorrow. But he definitely will. When that happens, you'll be nothing more than a slave in this house again.”

Leaning closer, she whispered in Moira's ear, 'And no one will save you.'

Satisfied with her threat, Evelyn walked away, her high heels clicking loudly on the cold tiles.

The kitchen door slammed shut, leaving a silence that hung like fog.

Moira stood still. Her fingers clenched at her sides. Her eyes didn't blink, as if she were absorbing the shadows in the corner of the kitchen.

However, the calm was soon shattered.

"Hey, look who's back," a loud voice rang out from the left side of the kitchen.

Moira turned her head.

Three maids in the same black-and-white uniforms stood in the kitchen doorway, their faces full of scorn.

'I thought you were dead, thrown in the gutter,' said the first with a laugh.

'It turns out you still like to act like a lady, even though Mrs Evelyn said you're just a servant, lower than us,' sneered the second maid, folding her arms across her chest.

‘Don't tell me you're really crazy,’ said the third, feigning concern. “Poor thing.”

Moira looked at each of them in turn. There was no emotion on her face. Only a blank expression and a dark shadow beginning to move behind her eyes.

Her footsteps sounded slow but steady as she approached the three maids, who were still standing there, laughing and mocking her.

Usually, at moments like this, she would either bow her head, turn away or leave silently. But that night was different.

Her gaze was piercing. Cold. Firm. There was not a trace of the fear that usually clouded her eyes.

The three maids exchanged confused glances.

'Are you deaf now, Moira?' sneered the oldest maid, commonly known as Orla. 'We said you don't belong here.'

Moira continued walking in silence. Her eyes locked onto each of their faces. An icy silence rolled through the stone kitchen.

‘Hey! Do you think you can challenge us just because you suddenly appeared at the party?’ snapped the second maid, Aine, in a high-pitched voice. ‘Don't even dream about it. You're still a servant. Just like us!'

Moira stopped just an inch away from them. Her lips formed a small smile. It wasn't sweet. Nor was it mocking. It was calm.

The third maid, Fiadh, pushed Orla forward.

"Enough! Just teach her a lesson. So she knows her place.'