Alpha's Abandoned Daughter is the Secret Heiress novel Chapter 150

Chapter 150: We Must Win This Fight

Chapter 150: We Must Win This Fight

(Livia’s POV)

Clairo

I watched from the safety of my sedan, parked a discreet distance down the road. The tinted windows hid me from view, but I could see everything perfectly.

It was humiliating.

Amelia and Seraphina stood outside the massive gates of the Drake Estate. They had been left out in the cold for over twenty minutes. Any person with a shred of dignity would have left by now. But Amelia? No. She had to make a scene.

I watched in horror as she raised her hand. A group of musicians–a marching band, of all things–started playing. The noise was atrocious even from here.

“She is delusional,” I muttered, shaking my head. “Completely out of her depth.”

She was dragging the Stone family name through the mud. Acting like a common hooligan in front of one of the most prestigious packs in the North.

“Lady Livia?” the driver asked, glancing at me in the rearview mirror. “Should we approach?”

“Absolutely not,” I snapped. “Turn around. Get me out of here.”

I wasn’t going to be associated with this train wreck. If Amelia wanted to get herself killed or thrown in jail by the Drake family, that was her problem. I had a charity gala to attend.

“Let the Drakes deal with the little brat,” I said coldly as the car pulled away.

(Amelia’s POV)

I held the megaphone to my lips. Behind me, the brass section was blowing their lungs out. The bass drum thumped like a heartbeat on steroids.

*BOOM. BOOM. CRASH.*

For a werewolf with sensitive hearing, this was torture.

Finally, the front door flew open. The butler stumbled out, his hands pressed tight against his ears. His face was twisted in pain.

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“Stop! Stop it!” he screamed over the noise. “What are you doing?”

I lowered the megaphone. I didn’t apologize. I just smirked.

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“I knocked,” I said, my voice amplified and echoing. “You didn’t open. I improvised. Next time, answer the door. It saves on headaches.”

The butler looked like he wanted to shift and attack me, but he held back. He looked defeated.

“Please,” he begged. “Just stop the noise. Madam Lyra will see you.”

I raised my hand. The band stopped instantly. Silence crashed back down on the driveway. It was blissful.

“Smart choice,” I said.

I turned to the band leader and handed him a thick envelope of cash.

“Double pay,” I said. “Good work. Get lost.”

Seraphina stepped up beside me. Her face wasn’t flushed with embarrassment anymore. She looked calm. Determined.

The butler stared at her. He adjusted his uniform, trying to regain some composure.

“Madam Seraphina,” the butler said, his tone dripping with judgment. “I expected this behavior from a wild child raised in the countryside. But you? You are the mate of Jaxon Stone. How can you participate in this… hooliganism?”

Seraphina didn’t flinch. She used to be quiet. She used to let people walk all over her. Not today.

“Hooliganism?” Seraphina asked sharply. Her eyes narrowed. “The Drake Pack claims to be prestigious. Yet you leave two guests standing at your gate for half an hour like beggars. Is that what you call common decency?”

The butler opened his mouth, but no words came out. He turned red.

Seraphina didn’t wait for an answer. She turned to me, her expression softening.

“Come on, Amelia,” she said gently. “Let’s go find your Aunt Lyra.”

We walked into the main hall. It was grand, dripping with old money and arrogance.

Sitting on the velvet sofas were the three heads of the dragon. Matriarch Octavia sat in the center, looking like a queen on a throne. Lyra was to her right, looking nervous.

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And then there was Carlos Drake. He was wearing silk pajamas. His hair was a mess. He looked like he had just rolled out of bed.

“My head,” Carlos groaned, rubbing his temples. “Did you have to make that infernal racket? Some of us are trying to sleep.”

“It’s two in the afternoon,” I noted.

None of them offered us a seat. They just stared, waiting for us to stand awkwardly in the center of the room like naughty children.

I wasn’t playing that game.

I walked straight to a pristine leather armchair opposite them. I sat down, crossing my legs and leaning back. I got comfortable.

“Nice sofa,” I said, running a hand over the armrest. “Italian leather? At least you have taste in furniture. Shame your manners are trash.”

I patted the empty seat next to me.

“Mom, sit down,” I said loudly. ” profound apologies aren’t their strong suit. This might take a while.”

Seraphina hesitated for a split second. Then she straightened her spine. She walked over and sat down next to me, mirroring my relaxed posture.

Matriarch Octavia’s eyes flashed with annoyance. She gripped her cane tighter.

I locked eyes with Carlos. He looked like he wanted to throw up.

“You are rude,” Carlos spat. “Barging in here. Waking people up.”

I shrugged. My expression was innocent, but my eyes were cold.

“You’re welcome,” I said. “Consider it a wake–up call. For your reputation. It’s dying, by the way.”

Matriarch Octavia let out a dry, humorless laugh.

“You have been here ten minutes and caused a riot,” Octavia said. “If we had made you wait another hour, would you have called the human news vans? Or perhaps the Werewolf Daily?”

I gave her a thumbs up.

“You’re good,” I said. “That was exactly the plan. I had the reporters on speed dial.”

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Chapter 150: We Must Win This Fight

Octavia’s mouth clamped shut. She realized I wasn’t bluffing.

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“This bet,” Octavia said, changing the subject. Her voice was steel. “You are here for the bet.”

“I am,” I said. “Lyra made a wager. She lost. Then she ran back to the Drakes to hide behind Mommy’s skirt.”

*“Cowards,“* Ava snorted in my mind. *“They reek of hypocrisy.“*

(Amelia’s POV)

“Is it really necessary?” Octavia asked, her lip curling in a sneer. “You want your own aunt to kneel to you? To humiliate her?”

I smiled. It didn’t reach my eyes.

“Octavia,” I said softly. “This isn’t about knees. It’s about the bet. She wrote a check with her ego that she can’t cash. I’m just the debt collector.”

Octavia turned her glare on Seraphina.

“And you?” Octavia demanded. “You are her elder. You allow this aggression? This lack of respect?”

Seraphina didn’t look down. She looked Octavia dead in the eye.

“Don’t look at me,” Seraphina said calmly. “In our house, we pay our debts. If Lyra couldn’t afford to lose, she shouldn’t have bet. Don’t blame my daughter because your family lacks

integrity.”

Lyra gasped. She sat up straight, crossing her arms over her chest.

“You are crazy!” Lyra shouted. “She is just an adopted stray! Why are you defending her like a madwoman?”

“I hate it when people talk about blood,” Seraphina snapped. “Shut up, Lyra. Honor the bet.”

Lyra leaned back, a smug look on her face.

“Dream on,” Lyra scoffed. “I won’t kneel. I’m not doing it. What are you going to do? Hit me?”

Matriarch Octavia tapped her cane on the floor. The sound echoed like a gunshot.

“Listen to me, Seraphina,” Octavia warned, her voice low and dangerous. “Lyra is the mate of a Drake Alpha. If she kneels to your daughter, she kneels to a child. It tramples on the dignity

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of the Drake Pack. You are new to the city, Miss Stone, so you are ignorant. But Seraphina, you should know better.”

Octavia leaned forward.

“Take your daughter and leave,” Octavia hissed. “Right now. If you walk out that door, I will let this slide. If you stay, you make an enemy of the Drake family.”

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