Alpha's Abandoned Daughter is the Secret Heiress novel Chapter 413

Chapter 413: A Slap for Damien

Chapter 413: A Slap for Damien

(Amelia’s POV)

I hadn’t even cleared the automatic glass doors when the voice hit me.

Loud. Furious. Achingly familiar.

“Theodore, you despicable, shameless man – get out here right now!”

I didn’t need to see his face.

I’d spent enough years listening to that voice to recognize it anywhere.

*Damien.*

I let out a slow breath and pushed through the doors.

+25 Points

He was standing in the middle of the lobby, held back by two security guards who had their hands braced against his chest. His face was red, his jaw tight, every muscle in his body coiled with indignation.

“What is it this time?” I called out.

He spun around the moment he heard my voice.

For one unguarded second, something crossed his face – something warm and desperate and painfully earnest. His expression shifted from fury to relief to something that looked almost like joy.

Then it died.

His eyes dropped to the Crimson Moon Pack headquarters surrounding him, and the realization landed visibly on his face.

She’s here for *him.*

The warmth drained out of his expression. What replaced it was something brittle and sharp.

“So you really do come here every day,” he said, his voice dropping into something that wanted to sound casual but didn’t quite make it. “To treat his legs. Is that what we’re calling it?”

The receptionist at the front desk glanced up from her screen.

“Mr. Blackwood,” she said, her tone perfectly level, “Miss Stone visits daily for Mr. Crimson’s medical

treatment. That is correct.”

Damien’s jaw worked. His eyes swept the lobby – the employees who had stopped pretending to work, the security guards still positioned on either side of him.

“Treatment,” he repeated, drawing the word out like it tasted wrong. “Right. And does that treatment

require her to take her clothes off?”

< Chapter 413: A Slap for Damien

The lobby went very still.

I felt the weight of a dozen stares shift toward me.

The receptionist set down her pen.

+25 Points

“Mr. Blackwood.” Her voice was calm, but there was an edge underneath it now. “Any medical examination

requires a degree of undress. That is medicine, not scandal.” She looked at him steadily. “Miss Stone is

Mr. Crimson’s fiancée. Her presence here is entirely appropriate.” She paused. “What isn’t appropriate is a

stranger walking into this building and implying otherwise. The only thing your comment reveals is the kind

of mind doing the imagining.”

I stared at her.

I had exchanged perhaps thirty words with this woman in all my visits here.

She had just said every single thing I couldn’t be bothered to say myself.

Damien’s face went through several colors in quick succession.

“I didn’t – that’s not what I meant,” he said, backpedaling fast. “I just – I’m not okay with this. That’s all. I’m

not okay with any of this.”

“I don’t care,” I said flatly.

He looked at me.

“Amelia-”

“We have nothing to do with each other,” I said. “We haven’t for a long time. I don’t need your gifts. I don’t want your gifts. If you walked up to me and handed me something personally, I would hand it straight back.”

I looked at him without blinking.

“You sent a birthday present to my fiancé’s building. For me.” I let that sit for a moment. “Damien. Think about what you actually did. You gave a gift meant for me to the man I’m engaged to. What exactly did you think was going to happen?”

His mouth opened. Then closed.

“Stop coming here,” I said. “Every time I see you, I like you less. I didn’t think that was possible, but you keep proving me wrong.”

(Author’s POV)

The elevator doors slid open.

Marcus stepped out first, then turned and pushed Theodore’s wheelchair into the lobby.

The effect was immediate.

< Chapter 413. A Slap for Damien

+25 Points

Three of the newer female employees forgot entirely what they were doing and simply stared. Theodore Crimson at a distance was striking. Up close, in person, he was something else entirely – all sharp angles and composed authority, jet–black hair, golden eyes that took in the room in a single sweep.

Then their gazes dropped to the wheelchair, and something complicated moved through the lobby.

Theodore didn’t notice, or if he did, he gave no indication.

His eyes found Amelia first. Then they moved to Damien.

“You came down?” Amelia asked, stepping toward him.

“I got a call,” Theodore said. His voice was unhurried. Perfectly even. “Someone was making noise in the lobby.” He glanced at Damien with the particular brand of indifference that managed to be more cutting than contempt. “I thought you might have just arrived. Didn’t want you walking into a mess.” He paused. “I’ve already called the police.”

“You-” Damien’s voice cracked. “You called the *police*?”

Something snapped in him.

“You think this is a joke?” he said, his voice rising. He pointed at Theodore, hand shaking. “You sit in that chair and play the victim and she just – she just *runs* to you every single day, and you act like you’ve done nothing wrong-”

“Mr. Blackwood.” Marcus took one step forward.

But Amelia was already moving.

Damien saw her coming toward him and his whole body shifted. The anger bled out of his posture. His eyes softened.

He thought she was coming to him.

He actually thought she was coming *to* him.

His lips parted. He started to say her name.

The slap landed before he finished the syllable.

The sound cracked through the lobby like a branch breaking.

Sharp. Clean. Absolute.

No one moved.

No one spoke.

Damien stood with one hand pressed to his cheek, staring at Amelia with an expression that had no name -shock and pain and something that looked, beneath all of it, like a man watching the last door close.

< Chapter 413. A Slap for Damien

Amelia looked at him.

When she spoke, her voice was quiet. Not soft. Quiet – the way a blade is quiet before it cuts.

“You’re acting like a child,” she said. “You always have.”

Damien’s hand dropped slowly from his face.

+25 Points

“What you call devotion,” she continued, “is just noise to me. It’s always been noise.” She held his gaze

without flinching. “Do you want to know why we didn’t work? Not the version you tell yourself – the real

reason?”

He said nothing.

“You decided the effort wasn’t equal,” she said. “You felt like you were giving more than you were getting. And maybe you were. You cooked. You bought things. You showed up.” She paused. “But Damien – I never

asked for any of that. I asked for one thing. I wanted someone who would let me be a healer. Someone

who wouldn’t make me choose between medicine and them.”

She took a slow breath.

“You couldn’t do that. Every time I stayed late to study, every time I prioritized a patient, every time I chose

my work – you made me feel like I was failing you.” Her voice didn’t waver. “That’s not love. That’s a leash.”

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