Bound To The Broken Alpha (Amy and Daniel) novel Chapter 87

Chapter 87 Stop Fighting My Battles

DANIEL

“I was,” she said. “But I don’t need you fighting my battles for me, Daniel.”

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That shut me up. I could feel the tension between us. I tried to stay seated, but I couldn’t. The jealousy, the anger was too much. I pushed my chair back abruptly and stood.

“I need some air.” I muttered.

“Daniel-” she started, but I didn’t stop.

I walked out of the hall, ignoring the stares. The second I got outside, I called for the driver.

“Take me home,” I said.

He hesitated. “But sir, the guests-”

“Now.”

He opened the car door without another word.

The drive was quiet. I stared out the window, trying to calm down, but my thoughts wouldn’t let me. I didn’t even know why I was this angry. It wasn’t just about the guest. It was something else like the way Amy stayed calm while I lost control. The way she didn’t need me to defend her.

When we got home, I went straight to my room and loosened my tie. The house was dark and quiet. I poured myself a drink and sat on the couch.

The image of her laughing earlier flashed in my mind, the way she smiled at the people around her, how composed she looked even when I snapped. She didn’t flinch.

I took a sip and stared at the wall. Maybe I was jealous. Maybe I was just tired. Or maybe it was both. All I knew was that something about her got under my skin in ways I didn’t understand.

I had thought bringing her tonight would fix things, maybe remind us both that we could still play the part of husband and wife. But instead, I’d only made things worse. She was strong, independent, untouchable. And me? I was still trying to figure out where I fit in a life that had moved on without me.

Tomorrow, people would most likely talk about how their Alpha lost his temper at a dinner he hosted. They’d say he was jealous or insecure or both.

By the time Amy got home from the dinner, I was in the sitting room downstairs, still in my

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Chapter 87 Stop Fighting My Battles

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suit. I hadn’t bothered changing or eating. The staff moved quietly around the estate, pretending not to notice how tense the air felt. The house was huge but at that moment, it felt really small.

She walked in calmly, her heels clicking against the floor. Her face was unreadable, the same composed expression she wore whenever she wanted to keep things polite.

“You left early,” she started, stopping a few feet from me.

“I wasn’t in the mood to entertain people anymore,” I replied, keeping my tone even.

She nodded slightly, glancing toward one of the maids who appeared in the doorway. “Could you please bring some tea to my room?” she asked.

The maid nodded and left. Amy waited until the footsteps faded before turning back to me.

“You didn’t have to humiliate that man,” she said. “He was out of line, but you made it worse.”

“He touched you,” I said. “I wasn’t going to sit there and watch that happen.”

Her tone remained calm. “You could have handled it privately, Daniel. Not everything needs to be a show of power.”

I ran a hand through my hair, feeling frustration rise again. “Maybe I overreacted, but I won’t apologize for defending you.”

She looked straight at me then. “Defending me is one thing. Acting like you own me is another.”

“I don’t think I own you.”

Her voice softened, “You act like it sometimes. And maybe it’s not your fault. This marriage wasn’t something either of us chose willingly. You were in a coma, and I was chosen for you. We both just… went along with it afterward.”

She paused, folding her arms. “But you need to understand something, Daniel. I don’t belong to you emotionally. Only by law.”

The room went quiet. I could hear faint laughter from the kitchen where the staff were finishing up for the night, the distant sound of the fountain outside.

I stared at her, trying to find something to say that wouldn’t sound defensive. “You make it sound like I’m forcing something that isn’t there.”

She didn’t answer right away. “Aren’t you?”

I looked away. Maybe I was. All the dinners, the gestures, the attempts to act like we were a

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Chapter 87 Stop Fighting My Battles

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couple. I told myself it was about rebuilding what we lost. But in truth, we never had anything to rebuild. There had never been a love story between us, just a responsibility I kept mistaking for affection.

“You’ve been kind,” she said quietly. “And I respect you for that. But respect isn’t love, Daniel. And it’s not fair for either of us to pretend it could be.”

I swallowed hard and nodded once. “You’re right.”

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