BREEDER FOR THE MAD ALPHA

CHAPTER SIX

I knew something was wrong the moment I stepped inside.

The house was way too quiet, but not like in an empty kind of way…just eerily quiet and it sent shivers down my spine.

I smiled anyway, clinging to the excitement fluttering weakly in my chest as i stepped inside.

"Marcus?" I called. "I brought your favorite. Extra sauce."

My voice bounced off the walls but there was no answer.

‘Was he not back yet?

I was wearing the red dress which was his favorite.

He'd canceled dinner tonight, and said over a text that he had an emergency board meeting.

Which is why i wasvtaking it upon myself to bring the date to him.

I started walking towrdas the stairs but froze when I saw the jacket.

Those were not his jacket…they were too small to be his and they were definitely not mine either.

My heart stumbled, then started racing, as I saw mote pieces of clothinhs scattered on the floor after that.

Sky high red heels.

A scarf, pooled on the floor.

A black lace dress.

My fingers went numb and the takeout bag hit the floor with a dull thud. No. No this cant…this cant be.

I hurried up the steps, my heart thudding like a hanmer against my ribs…each step felt like walking through water, my chest burned, my throat closed and I prayed over and over that this does not turn out to be what I was thinking.

But every hope I had been clinging to…turned to dust the moment I got to the bedroom and pushed the half open door wider with trembling fingers.

The world stopped.

Matcus indeed was home. He was home…and he was indeed with another woman, bothe of them wrapped around each other in our own bed, covered with the sheets and I could bet that they were naked beneath that.

But i had no idea what shovked ,e more..the idea that I just walked in on my husband cheating on me or the fact that..he waw actually cheating with my own step siosyer.

I stood tgere, frozen, so shocked and it felt like the walls of thevroom were closing in on me…just staring at the as they laid there, looking so peaceful together with their eyes closed.

Oh God.

Then her eyes opened and she looked at me.

Victoria.

Victoria.

My stepsister.

She gave me a slow victorious smile before taping Marcus.

"Marcus. We have company."

Marcvus;s eyes snapped open, irritation crossing his face. Yes, I walk in on an obvious evidence of cheating and HE looked irritated that i had disturbed him.

"Emma. What are you doing here?"

My mouth hung open at the question.

"What am I—" My voice cracked. "Are you crazy??? What am I doing here? So this is hwy you cam eled dinner?” The words tumbled out of me. "What is she doing here? What is this?"

Victoria laughed, sitting up slowly as the sheet fell away. "Oh, sweetie. He didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?" My hands shook violently. "Marcus, what is happening?"

Marcus reached for his pants, and started dressing up. "Emma, please dont be dramatic. You should have told m,e that you were coming.”

"I should have…Marcus that is what you have to tell me?? I just walked in on you—on you and my sister—"

"Stepsister," Victoria corrected sweetly.

"How long?" I could barely hear myself over the rushing in my ears. "How long has this been going on? Hope long have you been screwing my sister behinfg my back?”

Marcus buttoned his shirt, not looking at me. "Does it matter?"

"Does it matter? You said you loved me! This morning you—" My throat closed. "How long have you been lying to me you bastard!!”

"Eight months," Victoria said, examining her nails. "Give or take."

Eight months.

My knees buckled. "That's when you started working late. When you said you needed space."

"See? You understand. That's what I appreciated about you, Emma. You never made things difficult."

"I supported you! I gave up my master's program because you said you needed me available. I left my job. I made myself smaller because I thought we were building a future together."

"We were building my future," Marcus corrected. "You were helpful with that. But Emma, let's be realistic. Someone in my position needs a certain kind of partner. Someone with the right background, the right connections, the right... breeding."

The word hung in the air like poison.

"I don't have the right breeding?"

"Come one…Your father was in trade. Hartford Industries manufactures engine parts. My family's been in investment banking for four generations. Victoria's mother comes from old money. The kind that opens doors I need opened."

"So I was a placeholder? Five years of my life. What was I to you?"

"Do you realy need me to spell it out for you at this point? Come on you cannot be that dump.” ne shook his head “Well at frst it was all fun fir me…bjt the six months in i noticed how desperate you were..to please me, to love me and decided to take advantage of that. Now, I have everything thanks to you…including the CEO role for Hartford Indistries.”

I gasped and took a shaky step back.

He is joking. He has to be joking.

“Now that I am CEO o realize that..you are not in myt level anymore, Emma. You helped me reach here, for whivjh I ma grateful for but I need someone who can help me gp higher…and that person is not you?”

“You bastard! So all I am is a steping stone?”

"Don't be childish." He checked his watch. "You're a nice girl, Emma. You'll find someone appropriate for your... level."

Victoria rose from the bed, crossing to Marcus. "My mother always said you were too sweet for your own good. She tried to warn you last Christmas when she said Marcus needed someone with more polish."

"Your mother knew. About you two."

"She encouraged it. Hartford Industries and Marcus's firm are merging next quarter. It's a done deal. Has been for months."

"The merger. I signed the papers. You said it would protect my father's legacy..."

"And we appreciate your cooperation. Victoria's stepping in as your proxy on the board. Someone with actual business acumen."

"I have a degree in economics! I graduated top of my class. I was accepted into Harvard's MBA program before—"

"Before you chose me over your education," Marcus finished. "That was your choice, Emma. No one forced you."

"I loved you. I loved you so much I lost myself. How can you—" My voice cracked. "Did you ever love me at all?"

Silence stretched.

"No," he said simply. "I liked you. You were useful. But love? Emma, I was never going to marry the help."

The help.

I ama the help.

Victoria started putting on jewelry. "You should go. This is embarrassing for everyone. Marcus and I have dinner reservations."

Brethiaang had become difficult and my vision was blurred with tears. This cant be…No this cant be.

I turned around, because I was two seconds from breakaing down and i didmt want the,m to see that.

This cannot be. I had loved him..I had believed all his promises and given up my education. I had sacrificed everything for him and practically handed everything to him my future my entire life.

I don’t remember getting into the elevator or my car. I only remembered sitting there, gripping the steering wheel until my hands hurt.

Then the tears and the quivering came.

The sound that tore from my chest like something dying. Because the man I loved had never existed.

I had lost everything.

My relationship. My future. My self-respect. My father's company. All of it. Gone.

I drove without knowing where, until my car stopped in front of a building blazing with lights.

The Merchants' Charity Gala.

I laughed—broken, hysterical. Marcus and I were supposed to attend together. He'd helped me pick my jewelry. This was supposed to be our night.

I looked in the rearview mirror. Mascara streaked my face. Eyes red and swollen. I barely recognized myself.

Then something shifted.

Something hard and cold settled in my chest.

I wasn't going to hide. Wasn't going to let them rewrite my story.

I wiped my face. Fixed my makeup. Straightened my dress.

I stepped out of the car.

Inside, the ballroom sparkled with wealth and power. Conversations slowed as I entered. Heads turned. I could feel the whispers forming.

I didn't care.

I went straight to the bar.

"Champagne."

The bartender hesitated, then poured.

I drank it in three swallows.

"Another."

Then another.

By the third glass, my hands had stopped shaking. The pain was still there, but now it burned instead of bled. Fury instead of grief.

A voice spoke beside me.

Low. Deep. Steady.

"Either you're celebrating something extraordinary," he said, "or you're about to do something monumentally stupid."

I froze, then slowly turned.

Damien Cross stood beside me.