The Alpha's Chubby Obsession. novel Chapter 166

Side Story 17

Soon enough, he arrived home and I served dinner. As I moved around the table, I could feel his eyes trailing after me. Every step, every turn, he watched. I didn’t know if Mrs. Sinclair had noticed the way her husband had been acting lately, but I was tired of pretending I didn’t see it.

So I finally lifted my head and met his gaze.

It caught him off guard. He jerked his eyes away instantly, clearing his throat before turning to Pamela and asking about her day-as if nothing had happened.

Good. Let him pretend.

After they finished eating, I cleared the table. But again, I felt that stare burning into my back. I

turned and there he was.

The moment our eyes met, he smiled.

“Oh, how has your day been, Clara?” he asked, voice dripping with something sour.

Something inside me refused to bow this time.

“This is new,” I said flatly.

His smile faltered, and he stepped closer, licking his lips. Disgust rolled through me.

“I think you know,” he murmured. “You’re a smart girl.”

I stared straight at him. “Know what?”

He chuckled and glanced around, checking that no one was watching. Then he leaned in slightly.

“If you want all this to stop, Clara… you know where to find me.”

Bold. Shameless. Filthy. It seems he didn’t want to hide it anymore.

His hand lifted toward my face, fingers gripping my chin.

I felt sick.

How could a man who once called me daughter look at me like that?

“Let go of me, Mr. Sinclair,” I said, my voice low, a warning.

But his grin only widened.

“And you

think

you can talk to me like that?” he said, his face changing instantly but I wasn’t scared

in the slightest, the least he could do was hit me.

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Side Story 17

I didn’t care. Something hot and furious crawled under my skin. I shoved him, harder than I meant

to “I said let go of me!!” I shouted.

He flew across the room.

Not stumbled. Not fell.

Flew.

My eyes widened as he crashed into the wall, a deep groan escaping him.

Mrs. Sinclair and Pamela rushed downstairs, their eyes darting between me and his crumpled form. My heart hammered.

Oh no. They’d definitely throw me out now. And I had nowhere to go.

“Ahh…” he groaned, and Mrs. Sinclair ran to him.

“Honey, what happened?” she asked, helping him sit up.

But when he lifted his head, his eyes snapped to mine and the same fear I’d seen in her earlier

burned in his expression too.

Mrs. Sinclair slowly stood, turning toward me with ice in her eyes.

“What did you do to your father?”

Father? The same woman who told me to stop calling them mother and father the moment

Pamela came home?

“Why don’t you ask your husband why he was touching me,” I said.

Mrs. Sinclair choked, whipping around to glare at him.

“You fool, I told you to leave her alone!”

My eyes widened.

So she knew? She knew he’d been acting strange with me?

Pamela clung to her mother’s arm, trembling. “Mummy, what’s happening? I’m scared.”

Mr. Sinclair pushed himself to his feet, rage twisting his face. He was seconds away from shifting, and I braced myself, planting my feet firmly.

“When you turn sixteen,” he growled, “you will leave my house. That very day.”

And just like that, shameless, unbothered-he left the living room, limping.

Mrs. Sinclair’s glare cut into me, burning with hatred. Pamela’s too.

#00

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Side Story 17

From that day onward, everything changed and honestly, it worked in my favor. Mrs. Sinclair hired a

cleaner and a cook, and I was strictly instructed never to touch anything in the house again.

Fine by me.

I was happier this way, moving around like a ghost in their perfect little family home. I didn’t speak

to them, didn’t involve myself, didn’t lift a finger. Most days I stayed locked away in my room or

spent time at my friend Eve’s house.

It was better than anything I had before.

Then the big day arrived, Pamela’s sixteenth birthday.

The entire house was decorated like a party for a six-year-old, bright colors everywhere, laughter echoing through the halls. They looked like the happiest family alive.

Meanwhile, I sat in a quiet corner, out of sight. That was when I overheard Pamela chatting with

her friends.

“Oh, Alan is coming today,” she said, giggling.

Alan-the alpha’s son. The boy she’s been obsessed with for years.

“I wonder if he’ll turn out to be my mate.”

“Yes, you’ve always liked him,” one of her friends chimed in. “And he seems close to you too.”

Pamela giggled harder, practically glowing.

I couldn’t believe I had to sit there and listen to their ridiculous chatter.

Alan… once, he used to be close to me. We were friends. But the moment he heard I wasn’t the Sinclairs’ biological daughter, that I was just the adopted one-he dropped me without hesitation

and ran straight to Pamela.

I stood up, unwilling to hear another word from the oblivious Pamela, and went to my room to

read.

A few minutes later, a knock landed on my door. I opened it to find Mrs. Sinclair standing there,

swallowing hard, fear etched across her features.

“Clara,” she said quietly, “you will not come out today during my daughter’s big day. Do you

understand?”

I nodded.

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