Chapter 45

SARA 

I thought that Alpha Tristan was kidding until I came back from a medical check-up and found Paige standing in my new apartment. 

"Paige, what are you doing here?" I was surprised to find her standing there. 

"Sara, I've been here for a while now. I trust that your medical check up went well and they gave you a clean bill of health." She said with a smile. "I've been instructed to inform you that you are to move in with the Alpha as his new personal maid."

"Son of a bitch." I cursed and rushed to where my stuff were, which was not much and they were gone. The room was a service apartment, if you were not told you'd never know that it's not occupied. 

"I wouldn't bother, everything you own and would need have been taken to your new home. My job was to pass on this information and accompany you to the place." Paige explained and I nodded.

"Fine, lets go." I hated the fact that he had to have me delivered like a parcel. I knew his fucking apartment. Why couldn't he just ask me to come there. 

Paige produced a key card and opened the door when we got there and a blond with ginger hair was standing inside and waiting. "Welcome to the Alpha's suite, Paige. I've been waiting for you." 

"I'm sorry Natalie, I believe you've met Sara. She's a healer. She had a medical appointment." Paige introduced me with a smile.

"You mean the murderous and seductress slave?" The ginger-haired blond spoke and I instantly took a dislike of her. 

"Natalie, that's an offensive thing to say." Paige rebuked her immediately.

"I'm not the one who said it, Yvonne told everyone the other day and today she's moving in with the Alpha, what other proof do we need to know that she's who they said she she is." Natalie said while a crooked smile like she was saying something important.

Paige wanted to speak but I waved her to silence. "I've never seen a Ginger-haired blond that had a functional brain cell. When I saw you, I was sure I'd finally met the exception, but then you had to open your mouth and all doubt flew away. I'm a slut and a seductress, and a murderer, is there anything else you want to add?" I asked her pointedly and she recoiled into her shell. "That's what I thought. What happens now?" I turned to Paige.

"You just lit the room on fire with that come back. Actually, Natalie was the former personal maid of the Alpha. You are actually taking over from her. She will complete your onboarding process as they say in the tech world." She winked at me, gave a thumbs up to Natalie. "I'm out of here before it explodes." 

Natalie and I stood staring at each other after Paige left. She had not expected me to give rebuttal. Everyone just expects because the Alpha treats me like trash, that they can disrespect me too. I was determined to let all who try know that I'm not a pushover. 

"Perhaps we started off on the wrong foot. Regardless what you must have heard, I don't want to be his personal live-in maid. But it was either this or I go back to the dungeon from whence I came." I decided to be the bigger person and apologize. 

"Perhaps it's not good to be judgemental." She offered with a fake smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Everyone thinks your are his personal maid, you are actually his sex slave. He gets to have access to your body whenever and however he wants it. He selects what you wear everyday but it's more or less a bikini and a see-through kimono. He'll give you premium of everything you need to look the best in the pack, spa, jewelries, clothing, you name it. Massage his ego right and you'd never lack again." 

"I can do everything he wants but I'm not going to fuck him. He can still have you if you are interested." I informed her and she was shocked that I had a choice. 

"Everything you need to start is on the bed. I think the Alpha may have made the wrong choice." She said and was out the door before I could say anything.

I took my time to admire the room. It was the most beautiful suite I've ever seen. A masterclass in modern luxury with its polished marble floors and floor-to-ceiling windows, but it felt like a high-end morgue. I stood in the center of the living area, looking at the reflection of the woman in the glass.

Tristan had left this "outfit" for me on the bed as Natalie had said. It was a dark emerald bikini, barely more than a few scraps of silk, covered by a knee-length white kimono dress that was so sheer it was practically a suggestion. It was a costume designed for one purpose: to remind me that I was no longer a person, but a view.

The first day I stayed all alone. He didn't return and I didn't know where he had gone and didn't care. It was when I woke up the next day that saw a note beside the bedside phone that I was supposed to call him when I had settled in. 

By mid day, I had become comfortable a bit wanted to see him so I can understand what my rolel meant. I was definitely not going to be doing what Natalie had said. 

I was laying leisurely when I heard it. The door chimes didn't ring; the electronic lock just clicked open. I turned, expecting to see Tristan, but it was Yvonne who marched in. She froze the moment she saw me. Her eyes traveled from my bare legs up to the translucent fabric of the kimono, and her face contorted into something hideous.

"You shameless, pathetic slut," she hissed, slamming the door behind her. "You actually think this will work? You think putting on a show like some cheap street-walker is going to make him forget what you are? You're trying to seduce an Alpha with a see-through dress."

I opened my mouth to tell her I didn't choose this, to tell her that her precious Alpha was the one who demanded this "service," but then I saw the cold, murderous twitch in her jaw. I remembered her whisper in the medical wing—It would be the easiest thing in the world to make your death permanent.

The words died in my throat. I shut my eyes for a second, my heart hammering against my ribs, and I went silent. I didn't give her the satisfaction of a retort. I just stood there, a statue in emerald and white.

"What? Nothing to say for yourself?" Yvonne stepped into my personal space, her scent of gunpowder and expensive perfume overwhelming. "I told you to leave this wing. If I find you here again, I’ll have the guards drag you out and beat you until you can’t stand, Tristan’s 'orders' be damned."

"I live here now, Yvonne," I said, my voice barely a whisper but steady. "He moved me."

"You lie!" she shrieked.

"She’s telling the truth."

Tristan’s voice was like a cold wave. He walked in from wherever he's been the past twenty four hours, his expression unreadable. He looked at me, his gaze lingering on the way the kimono clung to my curves, before turning to his Right Hand.

"Tristan, send this creature away," Yvonne demanded, her voice cracking with desperation. "She’s here trying to trap you. Look at what she’s wearing! It’s a provocation."

Tristan didn't blink. "I’m the one who told her to wear it, Yvonne. Sara is no longer just a prisoner. She is my personal, live-in maid. My sex slave. She stays where I can see her."

The blood drained from Yvonne’s face. She looked at him as if he’d sprouted a second head. "Are you insane? Is this some kind of voodoo? Some Lockwood blood-magic? She’s a murderer!"

"It’s not magic. It’s ownership," Tristan said.

Yvonne’s rage boiled over. She lunged toward me, her hand raised to strike, but Tristan moved faster. He caught her wrist mid-air, his grip so tight I heard the faint creak of her leather glove.

"Don't," he warned, his voice vibrating with Alpha authority. "I saw the camera footage from the medical wing, Yvonne. I saw you assault a patient under my protection. If you lay another finger on her without my express command, you will have me to contend with. Do I make myself clear?"

Yvonne stood paralyzed, her chest heaving. The shock of being scolded—of being threatened over me—seemed to break something inside her. She looked at me with a hatred so pure it made my skin crawl.

Tristan released her and turned his back, walking toward the oversized leather sofa. He began unbuttoning his charcoal shirt, tossing it onto a chair. "I’ve had a long day. I want a massage. Now."

He snapped his fingers at me. He didn't care that Yvonne was there.

I felt Yvonne’s eyes burning into me as I moved. I didn't have a choice. I reached for the ties of the white kimono and pulled. The sheer fabric slid off my shoulders, pooling on the marble floor, leaving me in nothing but the dark blue bikini. I felt exposed, humiliated, and strangely powerful all at once as I stepped toward the sofa.

I climbed onto the edge of the seat, my hands trembling as I placed them on Tristan’s broad, warm shoulders. I began to work the muscles of his back, my fingers digging into the skin he had so recently healed. He let out a low, guttural groan of satisfaction.

Yvonne stood there for a long minute, forced to watch the man she loved be touched by the woman she hated. The silence in the room was deafening until, finally, she turned on her heel and fled, the door hissing shut behind her.

I kept my hands moving, but my heart wasn't in it.

"You can stop," Tristan murmured after a while, though he didn't move.

I pulled my hands away, reaching for my kimono and wrapping it tightly around myself. "I’m impressed," I said, my voice dry. "I didn't think you had it in you to stand up to her for my sake."

Tristan looked at me over his shoulder, his eyes dark. "Don't mistake protection for affection, Sara."

"I don't," I countered. "But you just made a costly mistake, Tristan. You didn't just protect me; you flaunted me. You used me to break her heart. She was a dangerous woman before, but now? You’ve given her a reason to burn this whole house down just to see me turn to ash. That’s a fire you won't be able to put out."