128 Breakfast

Olivia’s POV

I frowned at her. “What do you want?” I asked coldly, ensuring she saw the hatred in my eyes—even though I was feigning memory loss.

Anita folded her arms and glared. “You spent the night in Lennox’s room, didn’t you? What were you doing there?” Her voice was sharp, laced with such obvious jealousy it was almost pathetic.

I scoffed. “Why should I tell you?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Because Lennox is my man, and you—you’re Gabriel’s wife, remember? So tell me, what do you think your husband would say if he found out you spent the night in Alpha Lennox’s room?”

I wanted to snap at her, to tell her to go to hell, but I held back. I had to keep pretending. Gabriel was my husband, and I needed to act the part.

I took a shaky breath, forcing a panicked expression. “Please, Anita,” I whispered, stepping back. “I didn’t mean to cause any problems.”

My voice trembled convincingly. “I had a bad dream and couldn’t sleep. I went to Lennox because… I thought seeing him might calm me. That’s all. I swear, nothing happened.”

Anita’s brows furrowed, and I saw doubt flicker across her face. Good. My words were getting to her.

She stepped closer, her voice low and threatening. “Stay away from the Alphas, Madam. It’s for your own good. If you don’t, I have plenty of lies I could tell Alpha Gabriel.”

I clenched my fists, biting back every insult. With one final glare, Anita stormed down the hallway.

As she left, Lolita and Nora approached, concern etched on their faces. “Is everything alright?” Lolita asked gently.

“Yes,” I nodded, forcing a small smile. “Everything’s fine.”

I returned to the room, the girls following and closing the door. I retrieved the document from the pillow and placed it on the bed.

Lolita’s eyes widened. “That’s the file, isn’t it?” she whispered.

I nodded. Glancing around cautiously, I leaned in. “You said you need to get this to your uncle, right?”

“Yes. The sooner, the better,” Lolita nodded. “I’ll go out today. I’ll hide the file and take it to him.”

I nodded firmly. “Good. Thank you,” I said sincerely.

I turned to Nora, handing her the key. “While we’re having breakfast, I want you to sneak to Lennox’s room and drop this key inside the third drawer.”

Nora nodded and took the key.

Lolita spoke up. “We need to get you dressed. The Alphas personally requested your presence at breakfast.”

My frown deepened. “Great,” I muttered.

They chose a blue dress that flattered me. Once ready, they led me to the dining room.

I froze in the doorway. The triplets were seated, and so was Anita. But what struck me wasn’t her smug expression—it was the shirts the triplets wore.

I blinked. I knew those shirts. The faded navy-blue fabric, the simple stitching, the tiny wolf emblem I’d embroidered—clumsily—onto the bottom hem. Those were the shirts I’d bought them for their eighteenth birthday. I was thirteen then—barely understanding love. I’d saved my lunch money for months to buy them. They were too big back then.

Now… they had clearly outgrown them. The sleeves were tight around their biceps, the fabric stretched across their broad chests. And still, they wore them. Why?

My eyes settled on the table, beautifully set: warm buttered toast, scrambled eggs, cinnamon rolls, even my favorite strawberry jam. A realization hit me. They were trying to make me remember. But the joke was on them. I never forgot.

I schooled my expression into something neutral, innocent. Walking toward the table, I tilted my head. “Isn’t that shirt a little tight on you?” I asked casually, glancing between them.

Louis, who had a mouthful of toast, smiled and nodded. “Yeah. Our mate got them for us on our eighteenth birthday.”

My breath caught, but I forced a smile. “She must’ve loved you guys a lot.”

There was a pause. Then Louis shrugged, his voice low. “I don’t think so.”

His words hit me hard. My chest tightened. They think I never loved them?

I looked down, hiding the flicker of pain in my eyes. They had no idea. Even when they treated me like trash, I never stopped loving them.

I pressed my hands together, forcing myself not to react. I had to keep pretending. But inside, the ache burned.

“I see,” I murmured, taking a seat. “Well, the shirt still looks good on you, even if it’s a little tight.”

They chuckled softly, but I could feel their eyes on me—watching, hoping, waiting. But I hid my emotions well.

Just as I picked up my knife to spread the jam, Anita’s voice cut through the air, all sweetness and fake concern.

“I heard you had a rough night,” she said, tilting her head innocently. “Poor thing. Bad dreams?”

I looked at her slowly, offering the same fake sweetness. “Not as bad as waking up and realizing your best friend’s been sleeping with your men,” I said calmly, meeting her eyes.

Anita blinked, caught off guard. “Excuse me?”

“I heard you were her best friend,” I said, my voice low. “Their Luna’s best friend. And yet here you are… a concubine to the very men she loved. That’s got to sting.”

The smile dropped from her face. “I never saw you—” she started, then caught herself, her eyes darting around.

She cleared her throat. “I was never her best friend. I hated her.”

The room went still. I tilted my head, still calm. “So you admit it. You hated your best friend. The one who trusted you.”

Anita’s face flushed red. “Enough.”

But I wasn’t done. “You’re a bad friend,” I said simply. “To betray someone who trusted you… that says more about you than her.”

“Enough!” Anita snapped, her voice shrill. “We are at the dining table. Show some manners!”

I set my fork down gently and met her gaze. “Don’t talk to me like that,” I said, my voice cool and composed. “I’m a wife to an Alpha. I am a Luna. And you?” I let my eyes drift over her dismissively. “You’re just a concubine.”

Her jaw tightened. Her lips pressed into a thin, furious line. But she didn’t speak again.

Silence stretched across the table while I sipped my drink, as if her presence didn’t faze me—when in reality, all I wanted was to scream the truth.