Alpha's Private Plaything (Elsa and Drake Stone) novel Chapter 94

Chapter 94

Elsa

Kayla appeared with a spare blouse. “Here, you should change before

“Did I say she could change?” Drake’s cold voice cut through the

room. He’d returned without my noticing. “Go downstairs exactly as

you are.”

My stomach dropped. “Drake, I can’t—”

“Did I stutter?” His voice dropped to that dangerous alpha tone that

made my omega instincts quiver and my knees weak. Damn these

biological responses.

I walked through the office with my head high, ignoring the stares

and whispers. In the elevator, I felt male gazes lingering on my wet

blouse, the outline of my bra clearly visible. Each look felt like

another layer of humiliation Drake was forcing on me.

Outside the restaurant where we were meeting clients, Drake finally

seemed to notice my discomfort. He shrugged off his suit jacket and

draped it over my shoulders.

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“Go buy yourself something decent to wear,” he said, his tone

dismissive. “You’re embarrassing me.”

The jacket slipped from my shoulders as I stepped away, my pride

finally overriding my instincts. “I don’t need it,” I said, my voice

stronger than I felt.

He threw his black card at me, the plastic hitting my chest before

falling to the ground. “What, too broke to buy clothes?”

I stormed out of the company, clutching Drake’s black card in one

hand and his expensive suit jacket in the other. My cheeks burned

with humiliation and rage as I replayed the events of the morning.

Being forced to parade through the office in a wet, see–through

blouse. Drake’s cold command to go shopping instead of offering

genuine help.

Once I was safely around the corner from the road, I dropped the

jacket onto the sidewalk and stomped on it with my heel. Hard. Then

again. And again.

“Fucking arrogant Alpha bastard,” I muttered, grinding the expensive

fabric against the concrete. “Self–righteous piece of shit.” The small

act of rebellion sent a thrill of satisfaction through me, like

electricity crackling under my skin. For a brief moment, I imagined it

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was his smug face under my heel instead of his precious designer

suit.

Then reality hit me like a bucket of ice water. I quickly picked up the

jacket, my heart racing so hard I could feel it in my throat. What the

hell was I thinking? If Drake found out I’d deliberately damaged his

precious designer suit, he’d make my last week of contract pure

fucking hell.

I checked the jacket for damage, hands trembling as I brushed off the

dirt. Drake wouldn’t hesitate to make me pay for it, contract or not.

He’d probably enjoy watching me squirm, explaining how I’d have to

sell a kidney to replace his precious fashion statement.

Shit, shit, shit. Get it together, Elsa.”

The high–end boutique was just a block away. I walked in with my

head high, despite my still–damp blouse clinging uncomfortably to

my skin and my inner omega whimpering with humiliation. The

saleswoman’s eyes widened slightly at my disheveled appearance, but

her professional smile never wavered.

“I need a new top,” I said, heading straight for the most expensive

section. My inner voice was screaming: Fuck him and his money.

“Something with a high neck.”

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“Of course, madam. May I suggest-”

“This one.” I grabbed a sleek black cashmere turtleneck dress that

would cover the marks Drake had left on my neck. The price tag made

me wince internally-$12,000 for a goddamn dress–but a surge of

vindictive pleasure followed. Let him see the charge on his statement.

Small fucking price for him to pay for my humiliation. Probably what

he spends on coffee in a week, the rich bastard.

“Excellent choice,” the saleswoman said, eyeing my wet blouse.

“Would you like a towel while you try it on?”

I nodded gratefully, following her to the fitting rooms. Once inside, I

locked the door and leaned against it, finally allowing myself a

moment of privacy. My chest heaved with emotions I couldn’t even

name.

I should have stood up to him earlier. I thought, peeling off my wet

blouse and staring at my reflection. The marks on my neck were

turning purple. I should have told him to go fuck himself instead of letting him parade me around like some trophy he could discard at

will. I should have knee’d him in the balls when I had the chance.