When My Alpha Finds I didn't Kill His Father

“You’ll report to kitchen duty at six. Laundry at ten. General scrubbing after that.”The head maid, Greta, rattled off instructions without glancing up from her clipboard. Her tone was sharp, efficient, devoid of pity.“Yes, ma’am,” Stella replied.“You’ll wear this.” Greta handed her a plain brown uniform and pointed toward the staff bath. “You’ve got ten minutes. Alpha doesn’t like delays.”Stella shut the door behind her and slowly changed, her fingers stiff. The fabric was coarse, slightly too tight across the shoulders. She stared at herself in the cracked mirror.The bruises from prison had faded, but nothing could erase the wear in her eyes.---Downstairs, Joseph stood in the foyer, flanked by several pack members—warriors, administrators, even his girlfriend Rebecca in a fitted red coat.When Stella entered, silence fell.“She’s the new help?” someone muttered.“Parole charity,” Joseph said loud enough for everyone to hear. “The pack council insi

“You're late,” Greta snapped.Stella didn’t bother explaining. She’d barely slept. Between the humiliation in the hall and the stifling attic heat, time blurred into noise.“Double shift today,” Greta continued. “The diner’s short-staffed. Luna Victoria arranged for you to help cover the dinner crowd.”Stella frowned. “The one in town?”Greta nodded. “The only one. Wear a smile. Or fake one.”---The diner was loud, greasy, and suffocating—but compared to the mansion, it was almost peaceful.Stella tied on an apron, rolled her sleeves, and got to work. She took orders. Carried trays. Nodded when barked at.At least here, no one called her a killer.Until the doorbell chimed—and five familiar wolves strutted in, led by Joseph.She froze.He sauntered to the biggest booth and dropped into the seat like he owned the world.Rebecca followed close behind in a tight red jacket and daggered heels.“Well, this is charming,” she said, wrinkling her nose.

“Wake up, murderer.”The growl came with a thud—Greta slamming a mop bucket against the attic door.Stella swung her legs off the cot. “What now?”“Joseph wants the kennels scrubbed. Storm hit last night. Mud everywhere.”She blinked. “Isn’t that maintenance duty?”Greta shrugged. “Guess he thinks you need fresh air.”---The kennels sat behind the packhouse, near the edge of the forest. Rain had churned the ground into thick sludge. Inside, pups whimpered—tiny, confused, some injured.Stella rolled up her sleeves and knelt.It was worse than she expected—filthy floors, overturned bedding, water leaking from broken gutters.A little black pup snarled weakly as she approached. She smiled.“Easy there. I’m not your enemy.”He yipped again but didn’t run.She laid out clean rags, refilled bowls, and sang softly under her breath—an old lullaby her mother used to hum while folding laundry. Her voice cracked at the edges, but the pups quieted.By the

The storm arrived just past midnight.Rain lashed the windows. Wind howled through the eaves. Power flickered once—then cut entirely.Stella stood in the hallway, holding a lantern. “Greta?”Silence.“Anyone?”She turned toward the east wing. A single emergency light glowed at the end of the corridor—above the library door.---Inside, the air was thick with old paper and cold drafts.Joseph was already there, rifling through drawers.“You?” Stella said.He looked up. “I could say the same.”“I came to check for leaks.”“Liar.”“Excuse me?”“You always come here when no one’s around.”She set the lantern on a side table. “Maybe I like the quiet.”He didn’t respond. Instead, he returned to a stack of dusty boxes. “I’m looking for files. Anything on my father’s final hours.”“You’re still digging?”“Until I find what you’re hiding.”“I’m not hiding anything.”“That’s what guilty people say.”“And stubborn people ignore.”-

“Midnight tea, really?” Joseph muttered, eyeing the tray of porcelain cups as he followed Luna Victoria into the rose garden.“You’ve been pacing halls like a ghost,” she said, settling onto the bench. “I thought a calmer setting might help you think.”“About what? The lies you helped spread? The girl you left to rot?”Victoria’s hand trembled as she poured the tea. “About your future.”---Unseen, Stella crouched just beyond the hedge. She’d been pruning the outer vines when their voices drifted through the leaves.She froze.“You were there,” Joseph said. “When he died.”“I was,” Victoria replied softly.“And the report—the time of death—it was changed.”Silence.“I asked you something.”“I did it to protect you,” she said. “To protect the pack.”“You lied.”“I begged her,” Victoria whispered. “She agreed. I never thought she'd actually go to prison for it.”“She lost five years.”“She saved us five years of scandal.”---Stella l