Alpha's Private Plaything (Elsa and Drake Stone) novel Chapter 175

Chapter 175

Elsa

“The treatment,” I said flatly, still not looking at him. “Tell me about

it.”

“It’s a new neutralizing agent,” he replied, reaching for a robe

hanging on the back of the door. “Developed in Europe. It binds to the

silver particles in the bloodstream more effectively than current

treatments.”

“And how soon can she get it?” My voice sounded hollow even to my

own ears.

“That depends on how cooperative you continue to be.” Drake’s voice

hardened. “I need to know I can trust you, Elsa.”

I finally looked up, meeting his gaze in the mirror. My eyes were red-

rimmed, my hair a tangled mess, my lips swollen from his rough

kisses. “You just fucked me in exchange for information about my

dying mother’s treatment,” I said, voice shaking with suppressed rage.

“What more proof of my ‘cooperation‘ do you need?”

A flicker of something–was it guilt?-crossed his face before his

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Chapter 175.

expression hardened again. “Get dressed. We’re leaving in ten

minutes.”

“We?”

“I’m not staying here tonight. You’ll drive me back to the city.”

Without waiting for my response, he turned and left the bathroom,

leaving me alone with my shame and the lingering scent of our

encounter. I slumped against the counter, legs trembling, and let out

a single, quiet sob before forcing myself back into the mask of

composure I’d perfected over years of surviving Drake Stone.

At the front entrance of the Stone family estate, Miranda smiled

brightly as she handed me my coat. “Leaving so soon? I was hoping

you’d stay for coffee.”

I forced a polite smile, though I wanted to scream in her face for her

manipulation. My neck still bore the faint marks of Drake’s stubble,

and I tugged my collar higher. “I need to check on my mother. But

thank you for dinner.”

Her eyes darted between Drake and me, a knowing look on her face.

“Of course,

dear. Family comes first.” She leaned closer, lowering her

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voice. “I hope you found everything you were looking for upstairs.”

Heat rushed to my face as I realized what she’d done–deliberately

sending me to Drake’s room. Had the entire family been in on it? Was

I just some pawn in their twisted pack politics?

“My car is out front,” I muttered to Drake, desperate to escape

Miranda’s scrutinizing gaze. My skin crawled with the feeling of being

a prop in their family drama.

Drake grimaced. “That rusted piece of shit you call a car?”

“It gets me where I need to go,” I replied curtly, fingers clenching

around my car keys until they bit into my palm. “Unless you’d prefer

to call your driver.”

He sighed dramatically. “Fine. But I’m sitting in the back.”

The drive back to the city was tense and silent. Drake spent most of it

on his phone, occasionally barking orders to someone on the other

end. I kept my eyes fixed on the road, trying to ignore the way his

scent still clung to my skin, a constant reminder of what had just

happened. Between my legs, I could feel the sticky evidence of our

encounter, and it made me want to pull over and vomit on the side of

the road.

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“Take me to the penthouse,” he instructed as we entered the city

limits.

“Your penthouse or mine?” I asked, though I already knew the answer.

My knuckles were white on the steering wheel.

“Ours,” he corrected, his voice leaving no room for argument.

I pulled into the underground parking garage of the luxury high–rise

that had been my home for the past decade–a gilded cage Drake had

provided. As I turned off the engine, Drake finally looked up from his

phone.

“Were you fucking Allen Moonlight?” he asked abruptly.

The question caught me completely off guard. “What?”

“You heard me.” His voice was dangerously calm. “When you were at

the resort, did you sleep with him?”

I stared straight ahead, my knuckles whitening on the steering wheel.

My mind raced with the implications of his question–was he jealous?

Or just exerting his ownership? “I don’t see how that’s any of your

fucking business.”

“Everything about you is my business, Elsa,” he growled, his scent

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shifting to something sharp and aggressive that filled the car.

“Answer the question.”

I remained silent, refusing to dignify his accusation with a response.

After a moment, Drake huffed in frustration and got out of the car,

slamming the door behind him so hard the whole vehicle shook.

“Don’t make me wait,” he called over his shoulder, striding toward the

elevator.

I followed slowly, my body aching in places I didn’t want to think

about, keeping as much distance between us as possible in the

confined space of the elevator. We stood on opposite sides, the

tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Drake’s scent filled the small

space, triggering unwanted memories of what had happened in his

bedroom. I fixed my gaze on the floor numbers, counting each one as

we ascended, desperate for this ride to end.

When we reached the penthouse, Drake unlocked the door and

immediately pushed me against the wall once we were inside, his

body pinning mine. His hand gripped my jaw hard enough to hurt,

forcing me to look into his eyes.

“I asked you a fucking question,” he growled, his face inches from

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