Bound to the Alpha’s will

Ella’s hands smelled faintly of cleaning solution.

She knelt in the back hall of the Hart villa, wiping down the marble skirting boards for the third time that morning. The place was spotless already, but Nora liked things done twice—especially when Ella was the one doing them.

Footsteps clicked sharply behind her.

“Enough. You can stop.”

Ella straightened at once.

Nora Hart stood there in a silk robe, arms folded, expression unreadable. Her gaze swept over the hallway as if inspecting a hotel corridor.

“Go wash your hands and change,” Nora said coolly. “Your biological parents are here.”

The words landed without warning.

Ella froze.

“They came to take you home,” Nora added, almost bored. “Try not to embarrass anyone.”

For a moment, Ella couldn’t speak. She had known this day might come—Nora had mentioned it once, in passing—but hearing it so plainly still caught her off guard.

“Yes, Ma’am,” she said quietly.

She rinsed her hands in the utility sink, wiped them dry on her jeans, and changed into the simplest dress she owned. No makeup. No jewelry. Nothing that might suggest she belonged in this house.

When she stepped into the living room, everything slowed.

Five strangers sat on the sofa.

A middle-aged man and woman rose immediately when they saw her. Their faces were lined with nervousness—and something else she recognized only from a distance.

Hope.

The woman’s eyes filled instantly. “Ella…”

Ella stopped a few steps from the doorway.

She had imagined this moment many times. She just hadn’t expected it to feel so quiet.

Piper stood beside Nora, flawless as always, her posture elegant, her expression politely detached. She looked as though she were attending someone else’s family reunion.

“These are your parents,” Nora said flatly, as if introducing acquaintances. “Lora Hart and Lucas Hart. And those are your brothers.”

Ella’s gaze shifted to the three young men seated beside them—dressed simply, shoulders tense, watching her carefully.

Something warm and unfamiliar spread through her chest.

She walked forward and took the woman’s trembling hand. “Please,” Ella said gently. “Sit down.”

The woman broke down instantly.

“My daughter… my poor girl…”

Nora clicked her tongue. “This is a new villa. I don’t want crying in it.”

Ella passed a tissue over without comment.

“We’re grateful,” the woman said shakily, forcing a smile at Nora. “Thank you for taking care of Ella and Piper all these years. We should at least cover their living expenses—”

Nora waved her off. “Your husband works security. You clean houses. Let’s not pretend you can afford that.”

Ella remembered now—she had glimpsed her father at the neighborhood security booth once, but had never spoken to him.

Piper pinched her nose in disdain, as if the thought of their parents’ modest lives was offensive.

“We’ll still try,” the woman said earnestly.

“No rush,” Nora replied. “You’ve got three sons to support, after all.”

Ella glanced at her brothers. They offered her small, awkward smiles.

She returned them.

Then Nora leaned back, her interest sharpening. “So. About the engagement.”

The room went quiet.

Ella’s biological mother nodded. “It was arranged years ago. Between the older generation. A marriage alliance with the Sterling family. It was meant for a daughter… either Ella or Piper. We won’t force them. The choice is theirs.”

Piper stiffened.

“Where is he?” Nora asked. “If there’s going to be a marriage, I want to see the man.”

“I’ll call him,” Lora said quickly.

Piper immediately stepped to Nora’s side, lifting the teapot with effortless elegance. Her movements were refined, practiced—as though this were her home and Nora her true mother. She wore a tailored dress, her skin smooth and luminous, every detail carefully maintained.

Nora watched her with quiet approval, the kind she had never spared Ella.

...

Sterling Corporation

Tiesto Sterling’s phone vibrated on his desk.

One glance at the caller ID was enough to stir an old memory—an engagement his grandfather had arranged years ago. His father’s generation had quietly let it fade, leaving the obligation to fall squarely on Tiesto’s shoulders.

At the time, he hadn’t given it much thought.

But before his grandfather passed, the old man had gripped his hand with surprising strength and demanded a promise—to honor the arrangement, no matter what.

Tiesto had agreed. He’d saved the Hart family’s number out of duty, nothing more. Over the years, there had been no contact, and the matter had slipped into the background of his life.

Until now.

He answered the call with a faint frown.

Mrs. Lora Hart’s voice came through the line, animated and eager, talking rapidly about the daughter they had only recently “found” and insisting he come meet her.

Tiesto agreed with clear reluctance, irritation settling in his chest the moment the call ended.

He turned to his assistant. “Javi. I need an old car. Something beat-up. And find me some clothes that look… forgettable.”

Javi hesitated, surprised—but didn’t question him. He never did.

A moment later, Tiesto’s phone rang again.

“Grandma.”

“I heard the Hart family is taking their daughters back today,” she said excitedly. “You have to go see them! Take me with you.”

“Grandma, the doctor said you need rest,” Tiesto replied, already bracing himself. “You shouldn’t be traveling.”

“I don’t care. If I can’t go, livestream it.”

He closed his eyes briefly. “…Fine.”

“Ah—my head hurts—”

“I’ll set up a hidden camera,” he added quickly.

“Good! Hurry! Bring me the iPad and make sure the signal’s clear!”

By the time he left the building, Tiesto looked nothing like the man who controlled half the city’s financial flow. He wore worn, unremarkable clothes, a discreet camera concealed on him, and climbed into a battered car with peeling paint and a dented door.

Tiesto had nothing against families with modest means.

What he despised were calculated marriages—and the people who treated him like a prize to be claimed.

Dressed like this, he doubted the Hart family would find him impressive. If anything, they might rethink the engagement themselves.

That would suit him just fine.

The car rolled to a stop outside the Hart residence.

Tiesto placed a brief call to Lora, informing her of his arrival.

Inside the villa, Nora leaned toward the window, Piper’s hand still resting lightly in hers as they looked out.

The sight of the car—a worn Ford that had clearly seen better days—was impossible to miss.

Mother and daughter exchanged a glance, their disappointment thinly veiled.

The doorbell rang.

Nora didn’t move. She simply lifted her voice, lazy and indifferent.

“Ella,” she called.

“Go open the door.”

***