Hailey's POV:
Keaton's gaze was a physical weight. The air grew heavy, thick with his silent, potent fury, his Alpha power rolling off him in invisible waves that made the hairs on my arms stand up.
"Is what she said true?" His voice was dangerously low.
A flicker of victory crossed Allegra's face. She was certain I would crumble under the pressure. But I was not the same girl. I didn't flinch, didn't cry, didn't even spare Allegra a glance. My eyes were locked on Keaton's.
Then I did something no one expected. I stepped closer, deliberately looping my arm through his and leaning my body against his side—a silent declaration of trust and belonging. It was intimate, possessive. I felt the crushing weight of his aura recede just a fraction. He was too stunned to maintain his rage.
A small smile touched my lips, calm and confident and utterly unnerving. "True or not," I said, my voice carrying easily in the tense silence, "why don't we go and see for ourselves?"
Keaton stared, his mind clearly struggling to keep up. He had prepared for denials, tears, defiance—not this, an invitation to the scene of the crime. Allegra was equally baffled. My refusal to play by her rules was unraveling her scheme.
I turned my head slightly, my smile widening as I looked at my stepsister. "Miss Moreno, since you were the one who overheard this... arrangement, perhaps you could lead the way? Let's all go to the wisteria arbor and meet Mr. Holman together."
I let the word "arrangement" hang in the air, dripping with sarcasm. The color drained from Allegra's face. She never imagined I would call her bluff so publicly.
Keaton looked from her pale, panicked face to my calm, challenging one. The scales of his belief tipped decisively in my favor. A guilty person wouldn't be this eager for a confrontation. He covered my hand on his arm with his own, his grip firm and protective. "Fine," he rumbled—a single word of agreement that sealed Allegra's fate.
With his support, my smile became genuine. I was no longer on trial. I was the one in control. I let him lead me, our steps synchronized, from the corner into the center of the hall. His tall, imposing figure next to my smaller one created a powerful image. We looked like what we were: the Alpha and his future Luna. A united front.
Allegra had no choice but to follow, her face a storm of fury and fear. A sick feeling of dread must have been coiling in her stomach.
Our procession did not go unnoticed. The entire gala seemed to hold its breath. Guests whispered, many of them following at a discreet distance, eager to see the conclusion. The cheerful music faded as we stepped out into the cool night air. The wisteria arbor was just ahead, a tunnel of dark vines and pale flowers illuminated by soft, golden lanterns. A lone figure stood waiting in the shadows.
Freddy Holman.
His face lit up with a practiced, soulful smile when he saw me. "Hailey, you came. I've been waiting."
But his smile died when he saw the man beside me—Keaton, standing like a dark king, radiating absolute authority. The Alpha's power slammed into Freddy, a physical force that made him stagger back. His breath hitched, instincts screaming at him to flee.
He struggled to maintain composure. "Hailey..." he started again, trying to solidify their supposed connection.
Before I could say a word, Keaton stepped forward, positioning himself so that I was completely shielded behind him. He looked down at Freddy, his eyes burning with cold fire.
"Who gave you permission to speak her name?" Keaton's voice was devoid of warmth—a blade of pure ice.
Freddy paled, his throat working but no sound coming out. He took another involuntary step back.
Allegra rushed forward, trying to salvage her plan. "Alpha Sexton, Mr. Holman is a friend of Hailey's..."
"Silence," Keaton snapped, cutting her off without even a glance.
Allegra's face flushed a blotchy red. To be dismissed so contemptuously in front of so many people was the ultimate humiliation.
I peeked around Keaton's broad shoulder, seeing Freddy trembling under our Alpha's power, seeing Allegra's mask of shame and rage. A cold, sharp satisfaction settled deep in my chest. The show was just getting started.
