You Wanted Me Too Late, Alpha

0005: Forced To Watch

ANNA'S POV

I was making coffee when she arrived.

Felicia.

She had been a guest in the Alpha House since her return — three days now, using the east wing room that Lucy had offered without consulting Luca. She didn’t knock. She walked into the kitchen the way she always had in this house, as though it still belonged to her future. Her hair was loose. Her eyes were red-rimmed. She had been awake before I had, watching

"I saw him." Her voice came from behind me, already past the doorway. "Last night. Going to your room."

I set down the pot. "Then you know he's keeping his word."

"You're cruel." Her voice shook on the last word.

I turned.

Her hair was loose, her eyes red-rimmed. She'd been awake a long time. Her hands trembled at her sides, then stilled when she noticed me looking.

"You're calling me cruel," I said.

"Taking him to your bed. Putting your arrangement on display for this whole house." Her voice cracked. "You could have taken money. Property. You could have simply left. But you chose this—you chose to make him perform wanting you."

I moved to the counter and set the mug down.

"I chose to make him keep one promise," I said. "One. In six years." I let a breath go before I continued. "I could have fought the divorce. Dragged it through the courts for two years, three. Made you wait it out." I met her eyes. "I didn't. I gave him a clean exit. Thirty days, and I'm gone. You should be thanking me."

“Thanking you?” Her voice rose. “You slept in his bed. After everything I lost—”

“You didn’t lose him to me.” My voice was cold. “You lost him to your father’s debt. And I never asked for any of this. I was bought too, Felicia. The only difference is that no one ever came back to claim me.”

She stared at me. Her chest heaved.

“You think you’re so strong,” she whispered. “So dignified. But I see you, Anna. I see the way you watch him.” A pause — something shifting in her eyes, measuring. “You’re not doing this for closure.” She tilted her head. “I’m not sure you even know what you’re doing it for.”

I didn’t deny them. I couldn’t.

“Maybe,” I said softly. “But that’s my burden to carry. Not yours.”

Before she could respond, footsteps sounded in the hallway.

Luca.

He stood in the kitchen doorway, barefoot, his shirt rumpled, his hair disheveled from sleep. His eyes moved from me to Felicia — and something flickered across his face. Guilt. Regret. Something I didn’t want to name.

“Felicia,” he said. “This isn’t—”

He never finished the sentence.

Felicia moved.

Not away from him. Toward him. Fast — so fast I barely registered it. Her hands went to his face. Her body pressed against his. And then her mouth was on his. Kissing him in front of me.

Time stopped.

The bond didn’t just ache. It tore — a wrenching pull in my chest that I had to physically swallow down. My hands found the counter behind me, knuckles white, because if I let go I would fall.

Luca stood frozen for one heartbeat. Two. Then he pulled back.

“Felicia—” His voice was rough.

“No.” She held his face, her eyes wet, her voice trembling. “No, you don’t get to say my name like that. Not when you spent the night in her bed. Not when you’re pretending she’s your wife.”

“She is my wife.” His words were quiet. But they landed like thunder.

Felicia flinched as if he had struck her. “For thirty more days,” she whispered. “And then she’s nothing. And I’ll be here. I’ve always been here, Luca. I waited. I survived him for you.” She pressed her forehead to his. “Don’t make me wait anymore.”

I couldn’t breathe.

I wanted to look away. I wanted to run. I wanted to scream at him, at her, at the six years that had built this kitchen into a stage for someone else’s grief.

I did none of those things.

I stood with my back against the counter, my hands steady, my face smooth as stone. I had learned six years of invisibility. I had learned to swallow every cry, every plea, every desperate, pathetic wish.

I would learn this too.

Luca stepped back. Felicia’s hands fell from his face.

“Not here,” he said. “Not like this.”

Felicia’s gaze slid to me. Her eyes were no longer wet. They were cold. Triumphant.

“You can pretend with him all you want,” she said, her voice low and clear. “You can play Luna. You can warm his bed. But he is mine. He has always been mine. And when these thirty days are over, he will come back to me.”

She walked past Luca — brushed his arm with her fingers — and left.

I didn’t move.

Luca stood where Felicia had left him, his back to me, his shoulders rigid. I could see the tension in his neck, the way his hands curled and uncurled at his sides.

“Anna—”

“Don’t.” My voice came out flat. Dead. “You don’t have to explain.”

“I wasn’t—”

“I said don’t.”

He turned. His eyes wild with something I couldn’t read. Guilt. Anger. Frustration.

“I didn’t want that to happen.” His voice was rough. “You should know that.”

I laughed. It was an ugly sound, even to my own ears.

“You don’t have to perform honesty for me, Luca. I know what I am. I’ve always known.” I pushed off from the counter and walked toward the door. “Today is day two. I expect you to be home for dinner.”

“Anna, wait—

I didn’t wait.

I walked out of the kitchen, down the hallway, past the curious eyes of servants who had heard everything, and into my room. I closed the door. Locked it.

Then I slid down against the wood, pressed my hands over my mouth, and let the tears come. Not because Felicia had kissed him.

Because for one terrible, hopeful second — I had thought he might not let her.