Alpha's Private Plaything (Elsa and Drake Stone) novel Chapter 153

Chapter 153

Elsa

I stood across from the police officer, my hands clenched so tightly

my nails cut into my palms. The fluorescent lights of the station

buzzed overhead, casting harsh shadows that made everyone look ill.

A female officer approached, setting a cup of water in front of me

that I didn’t touch. I stared at it, watching the surface ripple from my

shaking hands hovering near it. Her dark eyes held a hint of

sympathy, but her posture remained professional, distant.

“Ms. Hale,” Officer Davis said, leaning forward, “I understand family

loyalty. But your cousin threatened medical staff with a knife. That’s

not just a simple misdemeanor.”

I insisted, slamming my palm against the table. “He was just scared.

for his aunt. You have to understand-”

“What I understand,” the female officer cut in, “is that hospital

disturbances carry mandatory minimum sentences. Three months at

least, even if the doctor doesn’t press charges. The law doesn’t easily

forgive these offenses.”

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“Three months?” My stomach dropped like an elevator with cut

cables. I dug my fingernails deeper into my palms, using the pain to

keep myself from screaming.

“There has to be something-” I began, my voice raw with emotion.

“Get a lawyer,” Officer Davis said, standing up and effectively ending

our conversation. “This will go to court. That’s the best advice I can

give you.”

I stumbled out of the station into the night air, the moon hanging

overhead like a silent witness to my misery. My legs felt boneless, and

I slammed my back against the brick wall, sliding down until the

pavement. I hugged my knees to my chest, trying to breathe through the panic clawing at my throat. Each breath felt like swallowing glass.

“Fuck, fuck, FUCK!” I whispered harshly, banging the back of my head

against the wall with each word.

Something wasn’t right about mom’s treatment being canceled. The

timing was too convenient. Just hours after I’d confronted Drake at

the hospital, suddenly the rare medication my mother needed was

given to someone else?

How convenient that there just happened to be another patient with

a matching need for that exact treatment. How convenient they just

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happened to have higher priority. The coincidence stank worse than a

week–old carcass.

My hand shook violently as I pulled out my phone and dialed the

number I’d been trying to avoid. It rang three times before he

answered.

“What?” Drake’s voice was cold, distant. I could hear voices

murmuring in the background–he was in a meeting. Probably with

the Black Obsidian pack elders.

“Did you do it?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

“You’ll need to be more specific, Elsa. I’m in the middle of

something.”

“Don’t pretend, you arrogant bastard.” My voice grew stronger with

rage, my fingers gripping the phone so hard I heard the case crack.

make sure my mother’s treatment was canceled? Was that

“Did you

your way of punishing me for leaving?”

The background noise on his end diminished–he’d moved somewhere

more private.

“You’re being ridiculous,” he said flatly.

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“Don’t lie to my fucking face!” I was shouting now, pacing in tight circles, not caring who heard. “Who else has that kind of power? Who else could make a hospital reallocate rare medication with just a phone call? You knew about mom’s silver toxicity. You always said I

needed this job to keep her treatment going.”

“I was aware of your mother’s condition, yes,” Drake said carefully.

“That doesn’t mean-”

“Drake, I followed you for ten fucking years!” My voice broke, and I punched the brick wall, welcoming the sharp pain that shot up my

r? arm. “My mother even made you soup on your birthday, reme She barely had the strength to stand and she cooked for you! How

could you be so goddamn cruel?”

There was silence on the other end, then a soft exhale. “You think you’re that important to me?” His voice had gone dangerously quiet. “You think I have nothing better to do than micromanage your family’s medical care? Your arrogance is astounding.”

The line went dead. I stared at my phone in disbelief, tears blurring

my vision.

“FUCK YOU!” I screamed at the blank screen, hurling my phone

against the ground. It bounced instead of breaking, which only made

me angrier.

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I drove away from the police station in a daze, my mind replaying Drake’s words over and over. Twice I swerved, nearly hitting parked

cars. After the second near–miss, I slammed on the brakes, tires screeching as I pulled over, my hands shaking too badly to grip the

steering wheel.

“Shit, shit, shit,” I chanted, banging my forehead against the steering

wheel.

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