Betrayed by My Ex, Marked by His Alpha Emperor Brother novel Chapter 161

Chapter 161: Chapter 161

Elara’s POV

"Mia—Mia, stop. Breathe."

I gripped her shoulders and held her at arm’s length. Her whole body trembled like a leaf caught in a gale. Up close, the damage was worse than I’d thought. A bruise was blooming across her left cheekbone, dark and swollen. Her lower lip was split. The torn blouse hung off one shoulder, exposing scratches along her collarbone—angry red lines where fingernails or fabric had dragged across skin.

"What happened to you?"

She shook her head, gulping air. Her cotton-candy pink hair was matted on one side, clumped together with what looked like dried sweat. Or blood. I couldn’t tell in the dim lantern light.

"Derek," she finally choked out. "Tuesday Derek."

My stomach dropped.

I knew about Tuesday Derek. Mia had mentioned him casually a few times—one of her rotating roster of dates, slotted neatly into her weekly schedule. She’d described him as "fun but clingy." I’d told her clingy was a warning sign. She’d laughed it off.

Nobody was laughing now.

"Come here. Come sit down."

I guided her to the low stone wall at the edge of the carriage yard. She collapsed onto it, hugging herself. I crouched in front of her and waited. Pushing wouldn’t help. I’d learned that much from my own years of being pushed.

The story came out in jagged pieces.

She’d gone to see him after skipping her shift. They’d had dinner at his place. Things were fine—normal—until she’d brought up the idea of keeping things casual. Non-exclusive. No strings.

"I just said I thought we should see other people too," Mia whispered. Her eyes were fixed on the cracked ground between her boots. "That’s all I said. And he—he just changed. Like something switched off behind his eyes."

He’d slapped her. Hard. Across the face. Called her a whore. Called her worse things. When she’d tried to leave, he’d grabbed her blouse and ripped it. She’d fought free and made it to the door, but not before he’d snatched her purse off the table.

"Everything was in there, Ela. All my gold. My identification badge. My work permit."

"Did you go to the city guard?"

She let out a sound that was half-laugh, half-sob. "His father is a magistrate. A judge. Derek told me—he said if I reported him, his father would have me arrested. He said he’d tell them I stole from his house and attacked him. That they’d believe a magistrate’s son over—" She gestured at herself. At her torn blouse and smeared face. "Over this."

The cold anger from earlier—the one sitting low in my gut from Gary’s three-hundred-gold punishment—shifted and expanded. It wrapped around something deeper. Something I recognized intimately.

The helplessness of being small in a world built for people with power.

"How much was in your purse?"

"Everything I had. All of it." She wiped her nose with the back of her hand. "I need to get out of this city, Ela. Tonight. I can’t stay here. If he comes looking for me—"

"Where would you go?"

"Spokane. My cousin lives there. She said I could stay with her if things ever got bad." A fresh wave of tears spilled down her cheeks. "I just need enough for a public coach ticket. Around forty gold. That’s all. I’ll pay you back. I swear on everything. I just—I can’t be here when the sun comes up."

Forty gold.

The number landed on my chest like a stone.

I straightened up and took a slow breath. The night air tasted like damp stone and distant chimney smoke. Above us, the street lantern flickered once, twice, then steadied.

I thought about Brenna. About the night she’d opened her door without a single question and let me collapse on her floor, pregnant and broken and owning nothing but the clothes on my back. She hadn’t asked if I could pay her back. Hadn’t calculated the cost. She’d just helped.

I thought about Riley. About the countless small kindnesses—a shared meal, a warm cloak, a hand steadying mine when the world tilted sideways. My imperial sisters. The women who’d shown me that loyalty wasn’t a transaction.

I couldn’t walk away from this.

"Okay," I said. "Let me see what I have."

I dug into my jacket pocket and pulled out my coin purse. It was pathetically light. I unfolded it under the lantern and counted the crumpled notes inside.

Twenty-three gold.

That was it. Twenty-three wrinkled, sad little coins. The remnants of my last pay after food and basic supplies had eaten through the rest.

"I’ve got twenty-three on me," I said. "We need more. There’s a money house across the street. Come on."

Mia grabbed my arm. "Ela, I can’t ask you to—"

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