Fake Mate Beta Rises to Alpha Heiress (Natalie and Landon) novel Chapter 210

Chapter 210 My Awareness Fading 

Lily’s POV: 

“You…” Samuel seemed angry again at my words His fist thudded against the door. “I’m not here for revenge. Just open the door. Let me rest for a minute. 

“Why my place? Can’t you go home?” I asked. 

“I don’t want to go home tonight.” He coughed, His voice carrying a rare tiredness and vulnerability. “Besides, you’re the one who got me into this state today, Lily. The scar on my palm isn’t even fully healed, and this is how you repay me?” 

Repay him? I remembered that night he saved me, his hand cut and bleeding from the broken glass. I also remembered how he later used that night to tease me, threaten me, and even lie about us sleeping together. 

Whatever guilt I felt over his injury vanished instantly. 

“Whoever sets a trap gets caught in it,” I said coldly to the door. “I just wanted to do my job well at the company. If you hadn’t targeted Natalie, threatened me, or… harassed me, I would have respected you. I would have returned the favor.” 

After that, I ignored his knocking. But I didn’t call the police and considered it the last bit of leeway for the hand he offered that night. 

A long time passed, and complete silence filled the hallway. 

He must be gone. 

I gently cracked the door open to check. At that moment, a heavy figure slumped forward, collapsing straight onto the floor of my doorway 

I barely stifled a scream. “Mr… Mr. Scott?” 

The hallway motion-sensor light flicked on. Samuel lay sprawled on the floor, cheeks flushed, breathing ragged, his expensive suit jacket crumpled beneath him. One hand was splayed out beside him, the ugly, angry scar across his palm still starkly red under the light. 

I cursed under my breath, then bent down and dragged him inside with great effort-only as far as the entryway, not an inch farther. 

“And now we’re even,” I murmured. 

I cleaned up the mess he’d left outside. I got a warm towel and wiped his face and neck. He was out cold-drunk and unconscious. I decided to lock my bedroom door and give him a blanket to make do in the entryway. With a man like him, you couldn’t be too careful. 

As I tried to maneuver his cumbersome jacket off, his leather wallet fell to the floor. A photo slipped out. 

I looked without thinking. 

The next second, my blood ran cold. 

The thought was absurd. She disliked me, feared me, and even schemed against me. But strangely, around her, I didn’t have to pretend to be the perfect Alpha. I didn’t have to maintain absolute control and dignity. I could be a mess. I could be angry. And I could even be vulnerable. 

Because she wouldn’t think more or less of me for it. She would just dislike me more. This pure disgust became a twisted kind of “safety.” 

I pounded on her door. I threw up outside it. I made childish threats. Hearing her nervous, trying-to-be-calm voice behind the door gave me a sick sort of pleasure. 

Then, a suffocating exhaustion hit me. I hit the door twice more, using my last bit of strength to say something almost pleading. “I’m not here for revenge. Just open the door. Let me rest for a minute.” 

She didn’t open it. 

I slid down beside the door, my awareness fading. The last things I registered were the rough fibers of the hallway carpet under my palm and the vast, empty void inside me. 

Later, someone dragged me. The motion was rough. A warm towel wiped my face. It felt good. I tried to open my eyes, but only saw blurred light and the outline of a figure. 

It was Lily. 

She dragged me in but only let me lie by the door. She really didn’t give an inch.