Alpha's Abandoned Daughter is the Secret Heiress novel Chapter 142

Chapter 142: Poisoned Beauty

Chapter 142: Poisoned Beauty

(Amelia’s POV)

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The atmosphere in the banquet hall was suffocating. My biological father, Alpha Adrian, looked like a trapped animal. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he scanned the angry faces of the guests. He knew the stakes. If he didn’t satisfy this crowd, the lawsuits alone would bankrupt Stone River Botanicals. The pack would be shunned.

Suddenly, a voice boomed like thunder.

“Ethan, kneel!”

Grandfather Alaric didn’t just shout; he used the Alpha Command. The air in the room grew heavy, charged with dominance.

Ethan tried to resist. His face turned red as he fought the urge to submit, clutching his shred of dignity. But Alaric was the Patriarch. His bloodline power was absolute.

*Thump.*

Ethan’s knees hit the marble floor hard. The sound echoed in the silent room. He gasped, his head forced down by the invisible weight of Alaric’s aura.

Alaric didn’t hesitate. He raised his heavy cane and brought it down on Ethan’s back with a sickening c***k.

“You disgrace!” Alaric shouted, striking him again. “Framing your own sister? At her engagement banquet?”

Ethan grunted with each blow, but the Alpha Command kept him pinned.

“Stop! You’re hurting him!” Livia screamed. She lunged forward, her hands reaching for her

son.

Adrian grabbed her arm, jerking her back. “Stay still, Livia,” he hissed in her ear. “We need this. It’s the only way to save the family’s face.”

I stood a few feet away, watching the spectacle with boredom. I took a slow sip of my sparkling wine, the bubbles fizzing on my tongue. I glanced at my manicured nails, checking for chips.

To the guests, this looked brutal. To me? It was a farce.

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Chapter 142. Poisoned Beauty

*Grandfather’s putting on a good show,* I thought coldly. *But we all know wolf healing makes this practically a massage. It’s theater, not punishment.*

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Livia turned her tear–streaked face toward me. Her eyes begged for mercy, pleading for me to stop Alaric.

I didn’t look away. I just smirked.

“Keep screaming,” I murmured, though she could read my lips. “Your pain only makes this moment sweeter for me.”

Alaric continued for another minute, panting slightly from the exertion. He finally lowered the cane, withdrawing his aura. He looked around, seemingly satisfied that he had offered enough blood to appease the crowd. The hall fell into a tense silence.

I let out a scoff. It was quiet, but in the silence, it sounded like a gunshot.

Heads turned. All eyes focused on me. I swirled the golden liquid in my glass, a playful, mocking smile dancing on my lips.

Theodore understood instantly. From his wheelchair, his voice cut through the air, cold and judicial.

“For a man with ambition, physical pain is nothing,” Theodore said. “His back will heal by tomorrow. But the rot in his character? That is permanent. Unless you cut it out.”

I nodded, locking eyes with Alaric.

“Theo is right,” I said, my voice sharp. “His wounds will vanish by sunrise. But the fact that he tried to destroy me? That stays. Unless you remove the cancer entirely.”

The guests began to murmur. They realized a simple beating wasn’t enough payment for the danger they had been put in.

“She’s right!” someone shouted. “We want real justice!”

“Compensate her properly!”

Alaric looked at the rising tide of anger. He sighed, the fight leaving his shoulders. He knew he had to pay up.

“Amelia,” Alaric said, his voice grave. “I originally planned to give you 30% of Starlight Entertainment as a test. But it seems Ethan is not fit to be your rival.”

He took a deep breath and addressed the room.

“I now decide to transfer all shares of Starlight Entertainment to Amelia Stone.”

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< Chapter 142: Poisoned Beauty

Clair

I accepted the news with a calm nod, like a queen accepting tribute. It was what I deserved.

But Alaric wasn’t finished. He turned his glare back to Ethan, who was still kneeling, panting on the floor.

“Let every Alpha and Luna in this room bear witness,” Alaric announced, his voice shaking with finality. “I hereby strip Ethan Stone of his title as Alpha Heir. He is banished from the line of succession! He will never inherit any Stone family property or the position of Alpha!”

The color drained from Adrian’s face. He looked as if he had been punched in the gut. With Caleb in a coma and Ethan disinherited, his family line was effectively dead.

I raised my glass toward Ethan. He looked up, his eyes hollow and filled with horror.

I mouthed two words: *Game Over.*

Ethan stared at me. The reality crashed down on him. For an Alpha male raised to rule, this was a fate worse than death. He had lost everything.

His chest heaved. He started gasping for air, hyperventilating violently. His eyes rolled back into his head.

*Thud.*

Ethan collapsed backward, hitting the floor in a dead faint.

“Ethan!” Livia shrieked. She broke free from Adrian and threw herself over his body, sobbing hysterically.

I watched the chaos with detached amusement.

“Oh, please,” I said, my voice dripping with disdain. “He didn’t just faint from a bruised ego, did he? That is pathetic, even for him.”

Inside my mind, Ava snorted. *A pup throwing a tantrum. He can’t even handle a little defeat. He is not fit to lead a pack.*

With the judgment delivered, the guests lost interest in the Stone family drama. They turned their attention back to the poisoner.

The group of victims grabbed Ronan by his collar. He didn’t fight back; his spirit was already broken. They dragged him out of the banquet hall like a sack of garbage.

Theron watched his son being taken away. He closed his eyes, defeated. He couldn’t save Ronan without drowning himself.

I walked over to Theodore. We watched the exit, the sounds of Ronan’s rough treatment

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Chapter 142. Poisoned Beauty fading into the distance.

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“Ruthless,” I whispered, leaning down. “Even for you. Did you enjoy watching him crumble?”

Theodore looked up at me. His golden eyes burned with a dangerous, captivating intensity. He reached out, his hand firm on my waist, pulling me closer to his wheelchair.

“I only enjoy watching *you* win,” he murmured, his voice low and possessive. “Everything else is just collateral damage.”

A genuine smile spread across my face. His loyalty was intoxicating. This shared victory, this conspiracy between us, felt better than any romance.

We basked in the moment, the taste of triumph sweet in the air.

But the peace was shattered by another scream.

“Doctor! Get a doctor!” Livia’s voice pierced the room again, shrill with panic. “Celine’s face… why is her face swelling like that?!”

We all turned.

Celine, who had been hiding in the shadows, was now stumbling forward. She clutched her face with trembling hands. Through her fingers, I could see the skin turning a horrific shade. of purple and black, swelling rapidly like a balloon. The toxins were taking hold.

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