Alpha's Private Plaything (Elsa and Drake Stone) novel Chapter 163

Chapter 163

Allen

Sophia’s living room wasn’t large, but it had a warmth to it that

expensive penthouses and corporate offices could never achieve. The

moonlight streamed through the windows, casting long silver

shadows across the floor and illuminating Elsa’s face as she sat curled

on the couch.

I watched her from the armchair opposite, my fingers drumming

restlessly against my knee, taking in the way the light caught in her

golden hair, how it softened the edges of her pain.

She’d been talking for nearly an hour, her voice sometimes rising

anger, sometimes dropping to a whisper. I said little, offering only the occasional comment or question, swallowing back the fury that rose

in my throat every time she mentioned Drake’s name. What she

needed wasn’t advice–she’d had enough of men telling her what to

1. do.

“You know what Drake once asked me?” she said, rolling the beer can between her palms. “He asked why I never learned to depend on

anyone else.” A bitter laugh escaped her. “As if he hadn’t spent ten

years making sure I depended on him for everything.”

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Chapter 163

I nodded, my jaw clenching tight enough to hurt. “Some people

confuse dependence with loyalty.”

“Exactly!” She pointed the can at me, liquid sloshing inside. “Fucking

exactly.” She reached for another beer–her fourth, by my count.

“I think you’ve had enough,” I said, intercepting her hand before she

could grab another can from the six–pack on the coffee table. My

fingers wrapped around her wrist.

Her eyes, usually so clear and sharp, were unfocused, swimming with

a mixture of alcohol and unshed tears. “Just one more, Allen. Please?”

Her lower lip pushed out slightly. “I promise I’ll stop after this one.”

“No.” I kept my voice firm but gentle, passing her a glass of lemon

water instead, my thumb brushing against hers in the exchange.

“Drink this.”

She pouted–actually pouted–and it was so unlike the composed,

professional Elsa Hale I’d observed from a distance for years that I

couldn’t help but smile. “Ms. Hale gets tipsy and turns into a sulky

teenager. Who would’ve thought?”

Something flashed in her eyes–anger, bright and sudden. She lunged

forward, snatching a beer can with surprising speed. “I am Elsa Hale,”

she said, her voice rising as she cracked open the can with a defiant

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Chapter 163

hiss. “I resigned, remember? I am not anyone’s fucking assistant

anymore!”

The vehemence in her voice caught me off guard. I leaned back,

startled by the sudden outburst. She stood, wobbling slightly, beer

sloshing over her fingers.

I rose slowly, my eyes scanning the room until I noticed the row of

empty cans half–hidden behind the couch. Seven, maybe eight. Shit.

She’d been drinking far more than I’d realized.

“Elsa…” I started, but she cut me off, moving closer, her scent–a

mixture of vanilla, whiskey, and something uniquely her–flooding

my senses. My wolf stirred, suddenly alert, hungry. Damn it, not now.

“You know what, Allen?” Her voice dropped, becoming almost sul

“You’re actually quite handsome. Has anyone ever told you that?”

My wolf snarled inside me, pushing against my control. I took a deep

breath, trying to steady myself. “Elsa, you’re drunk.”

“Maybe.” She smiled, reaching up to gently remove my glasses. The

feel of her fingertips against my temples sent electricity down my

spine. “But I can still see that your eyes are beautiful. Like stars in the

night sky.” Her fingers lingered on my face, tracing the line of my jaw.

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