Abandoned While Pregnant, Claimed by the Alpha novel Chapter 80

Chapter 80

Ashley’s POV

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As the little girl’s sharp question echoed through the room, Cecilia’s face instantly dramed of all color. She froze on the spot, still clutching the trinket meant for the next child, now looking absurdly out of place. The carrera flashes, once chasing after the innocent smiles of the children, had turned toward Cecilia’s pale, humiliated face, capturing every bit of her disarray.

She bolted.

Breaking the heavy silence, Cecilia stormed out of the orphanage, her heels pounding an erratic rhythm against the wooden floor, like a frightened deer running from hounds.

Only when she was gone did the atmosphere slowly come back to life. The children, clutching their candy and trinkets, looked uncertain, glancing at the items in their hands and then at me, their eyes wide and questioning

The brave little girl who had spoken up appeared completely lost, her expression one of innocent confusion, clearly unsure of whether she had done something wrong.

I took a deep breath, pushing aside the turbulence left in the wake of that messy scene. Walking over to the little girl, I crouched down so our eyes were level.”

I have crayons and drawing paper. Would you like some?” I asked softly, pulling out the items from the bag I had brought with

The little girl didn’t say no.

I handed her a box of crayons and a few sheets of paper. “You can draw anything you want,” I said, smiling gently. “Maybe your best friend, your dream home, or even a flying unicorn.”

“If you all enjoy drawing, we can arrange for a professional art teacher to come and teach you more,” I added.

“For real?” the little girl suddenly asked, her eyes lighting up with excitement.

But just as quickly, the light faded, and she looked at me with guarded suspicion. “Are you just trying to trick us into pretending everything’s fine?”

“No, not at all,” I answered firmly but warmly. “I don’t need you to lie. Just be yourself, that’s more than enough.”

I stood up and started distributing the rest of the drawing paper, crayons, and a few storybooks to the other children. Soon, they were huddled in small groups, bubbling with excitement about what to draw. The air filled with the faint, familiar scent of crayons, warm and comforting in its own way.

The headmistress, a gentle-looking woman with gray-streaked hair, walked over to me. Her eyes, filled with gratitude, settled briefly on the kids, now engrossed in their newfound activity.

“Thank you, Luna,” she said softly. “You’re not like the others who come here. Most people, even the so-called kind ones, usually have… their own agenda. Just like today.”

We stepped aside, away from the noisy chatter of the children. I glanced over at their small figures-some were drawing awkwardly, and a little boy with an unsteady right leg caught my attention.

“These kids…” I started, but the words seemed stuck in my throat.

The headmistress, almost reading my mind, spoke with a hint of heaviness in her tone. “Some of them were abandoned by their parents. Others are war orphans-children whose parents were killed in border conflicts. And there are a few, like the ones you noticed, with disabilities or illnesses. Their families simply couldn’t handle the care they need.”

My chest tightened uncomfortably. War. That word felt so distant from my life, yet it had left such a cruel mark on these

children.

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“The orphanage’s funding…” I hesitated. “Is it enough?”

“Oh, for now, it’s sufficient,” she replied quickly, her expression relaxing just slightly. “Alpha Hebert has been incredibly generous. The Bloodmoon Rack sends a large sum every year to ensure the children are well-fed, clothed, and have access to quality medical care.”

I nodded, feeling a soft warmth stir somewhere within me. But then, as if on cue, images of Cecelia’s fake smile and the blinding flashes of cameras crept into my mind again.

“Ma’am,” I said to the headmistress, my tone serious, “I have one request. From now orr, any media wanting interviews here, or anyone coming to ‘visit’ the children like today, must get approval first. I’ll personally discuss it with Alpha Hebert.”

The director’s eyes instantly filled with tears as she grabbed my hand tightly. “Oh, Luna, that’s wonderful! Honestly, those people who come to show off just do more harm than good to the kids. They bring noise and fake promises, only to leave behind deeper disappointment. What these children need isn’t that.”

We talked more about the kids’ education and mental health. I promised to come regularly and to arrange professional counselors as well.

On the drive back to the estate, my mind was fixated on the orphanage.

While the orphanage didn’t lack supplies, the whole atmosphere felt overly heavy. Kids need a relaxed and cheerful environment to grow up in.

Time always flies when you’re lost in thought.

Before I knew it, I was back at the estate.

The entrance hall was bustling with activity. A few staff members carefully carried boxes and bags, all featuring logos of luxury

brands.

I was about to go up and ask what was going on when Hebert appeared, descending the stairs from the second floor.

Hebert was wearing a black silk shirt today, with the top two buttons undone, showing a glimpse of his toned chest. His steps were unhurried, and when he saw me, a faint, almost imperceptible smile flickered in his deep eyes.

“You’re back?” He walked up to me, casually taking the cloth bag from my hand.

“And these are…?” I gestured to the mountain of boxes, confusion washing over me.

“Your gifts,” he said simply.

He took my hand, leading me through the foyer and toward the living room. My heartbeat quickened for no apparent reason- not from excitement, but from a vague, creeping unease.

When the living room came into view, I stopped in my tracks, completely stunned.

The massive living room had been cleared out almost entirely. Where sofas and a coffee table once were, there was now a makeshift display room. Rows of clothing racks were filled with dresses and casual outfits of all styles. Nearby, long tables were stacked with the latest designer handbags, shoes, and jewelry, all glittering intensely under the light of the crystal chandelier, so bright they were almost blinding.

It was the kind of seene that would drive any woman wild.

Yet my eyes were frozen on one thing-the mannequin in the center of it all.

It was draped in a white dress.

A simple, elegant white dress. Its design and cut were identical to the one Cecilia had been wearing earlier today.

For a moment, it felt like the blood in my veins had turned to ice.

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