Addicted To Her The Alpha'S Irresistible Contract Mate novel Chapter 32

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32 Chapter 32 Mate or maid

32 Chapter 32 Mate or maid

I pulled up to the airport curb in my black SUV.

The place was a madhouse. I already hate it. Lucy spotted me immediately, her blonde curls bouncing as she waved enthusiastically from the pickup lane. She was all sunshine and sparkles, dressed in a pink sundress that screamed “vacation mode,” even though she was here on some family errand Grandpa had roped her into.

My cousin well, technically second cousin, but in our pack, blood was blood–had always been the bubbly one, the optimist who could find silver linings in a thunderstorm.

“Elias! Oh my god, thank you so much for picking me up!” she squealed as she threw her arms around my neck the second I stepped out to grab her luggage. Her hug was tight, scented with vanilla and whatever fruity shampoo she used. “You’re a lifesaver. The flight was awful–turbulence the whole way, and the guy next to me snored like a

chainsaw.”

I patted her back awkwardly, disentangling myself. “No big deal,” I muttered, heaving her oversized suitcase into the trunk. Gratitude from Lucy was like rain in a desert- constant and unnecessary. I didn’t do this for thanks; I did it because Grandpa had barked the order. “Get your cousin from the airport, boy. Family looks after family.”

As if I needed reminding.

We slid into the car, the leather seats creaking under my weight. I revved the engine and pulled into traffic, the city lights blurring past as we headed toward the highway. Lucy chattered nonstop–about her latest art project, some gallery show in New York, how excited she was to see Grandpa.

I nodded at the right moments, my mind elsewhere. The mate bond tugged faintly in my chest, a reminder that Naomi was back at the mansion, probably pacing or plotting her next escape attempt. My little prisoner. The thought sent a mix of heat and ice through my veins.

“Anyway,” Lucy said, finally pausing for breath, “thanks again. I know you’re busy with… whatever alpha stuff you do.”

I grunted, eyes on the road. Time to get this over with. “I booked you a suite at the Ritz downtown. It’s got a view of the river, spa access–whatever you need.”

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32 Chapter 32 Mate or maid

Her bubbly laugh filled the car. “Oh, Elias, that’s sweet, but no way! Grandpa

specifically said I have to stay at the house. You know how he is–‘Family under one roof builds the pack stronger, or whatever his old sayings are.”

She rolled her eyes playfully, but there was steel beneath it. Grandpa’s word was law in our family, even for the grandkids.

I groaned, gripping the steering wheel tighter. The leather creaked under my knuckles. “The mansion’s mine, Lucy. I live there.”

She shot me a sideways grin. “Technically, it belongs to Grandpa. He just lets you stay there. And since it’s the family estate, any grandkid can crash whenever. Come on, it’ll be fun! We can catch up, maybe have a movie night like when we were kids.”

Fun. Right. I could buy my own damn house–hell, I could buy a bigger one, with marble floors and ocean views, paid for in cash from the pack’s investments. Būt that mansion… it was my childhood. The sprawling grounds where I’d run as a pup, the library where Mom had read me stories, the study where Dad had taught me to lead. Every room echoed with their ghosts, a reminder of what I’d lost. What her father had taken. Grandpa clung to it like a relic, refusing to sell it to me outright.

“Not yet, boy,” he’d say. “Earn it.” As if avenging my parents wasn’t enough.

But as the city gave way to winding country roads leading to the estate, a colder realization hit me. I wasn’t living alone anymore. Naomi was there–my mate, my enemy, the daughter of the wolf who’d orchestrated my parents‘ murder. I’d kept her close, under lock and key, telling myself it was for revenge. To break her, make her pay for her bloodline’s sins. But the bond complicated everything, turning hate into hunger, possession into something perilously close to need.

What the hell would happen when Lucy saw her? I couldn’t let anyone in the family know Naomi was there. They didn’t know her identity yet–didn’t know she was the last living link to that traitor pack. Grandpa was still hunting, his network of spies and enforcers scouring the shadows for anyone connected to the betrayal. If he found out about Naomi… he’d have his own ways. Torture, execution–clean and final, pack justice. The old man didn’t mess around.

But was I really worried about her safety? The thought gnawed at me like teeth on bone. No. I wasn’t protecting Naomi. I was protecting my right to handle her first. She was mine–my enemy, my mate. Her father’s blood debt was personal. I’d be the one to decide her fate, not Grandpa or anyone else. The bond twisted again, a sharp ache.

11:46

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32 Chapter 32 Mate or maid

Damn it, why did it have to feel like this?

By the time we pulled up the gravel drive, the mansion loomed like a sentinel–stone walls ivy–cloaked, windows glowing warmly against the dusk. I killed the engine, grabbing Lucy’s bag before she could protest.

“Fine, stay. But keep out of my way. I’ve got business.”

She bounced out, undeterred. “You’re such a grump, Elias. Lighten up!”

We stepped inside, the grand foyer echoing our footsteps. I scanned the space, tension coiling in my gut. Where was she?

There–in the living room off the hall, curled up on the leather sofa with a book in her lap. Firelight from the hearth danced over her dark hair, casting shadows on her face. She looked up as we entered, those green eyes widening slightly. She was in jeans and a simple sweater, nothing like the bar uniform that still haunted my nightmares, but the sight of her hit me like a punch. Vulnerable, yet defiant. Mine.

Before I could say a word, Lucy froze beside me, her bubbly energy sharpening into curiosity. “Who’s this?”

Naomi’s gaze flicked between us, a strange look crossing her face–part confusion, part wariness. She set the book down slowly, like she was buying time.

I stepped forward, forcing my voice casual. “She’s the maid. Naomi. Helps around the house.”

Naomi’s eyebrows shot up, that strange look deepening into something almost amused, almost hurt. She opened her mouth, but I shot her a warning glare–shut up, or else. The bond pulsed with her irritation, but she stayed silent.

Lucy squinted, stepping closer, her nose wrinkling as if scenting the air. Our wolf senses picked up the lie immediately–Naomi didn’t smell like a servant; she smelled like pack, like mate, like forbidden fruit. But Lucy wasn’t alpha; she couldn’t place it

yet.

“A maid? Huh. She looks familiar. Have we met somewhere? Maybe at one of Grandpa’s gatherings?”

Naomi shook her head, forcing a polite smile, “I don’t think so, miss.”

Lucy’s eyes narrowed, then she huffed, crossing her arms. “Well, whatever. Why are you just sitting here reading like you own the place? Maids don’t lounge in the living

11:46

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