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“Do you have any idea how expensive this suit is?” my father growls at one of our waitresses, Sarah, who looks terrified. Zoe places her hand on Sarah's shoulder.
“May I know what the issue is, Alpha?” she says, a polite determination in her voice.
“Yes, this idiot spilled wine on my shirt!” he grunts, red-faced and flustered.
“Accidents happen, Alpha. I am sure we can organize dry-cleaning or possibly a fresh shirt,” Zoe answers quickly while tidying up the table. My father sneers, and Zoe nods for Sarah to go—she rushes off, coming toward me.
“You ok?” I ask her, touching her arm as she escapes the scene, looking rather shaken.
“Fucking prick, he bumped my arm as I was pouring,” she says. I nod to the kitchen, and she sighs with relief while I lean against the frame. I chuckle when I see Macey a few tables away, watching Zoe. She looks to be on standby, ready to crack the Alpha with a bottle if need be. She knows who he is, so does Zoe, and not once does she stutter. She’s speaking professionally and is doing her job while my father rants about lowly rogues. We’ve heard it all, and it no longer fazes us. There isn't a name he could come up with that we haven't heard at least once or twice before.
“As I said, sir. We can have it dry-cleaned or replaced for you,” Zoe repeats sweetly.
“I want her fired; I want to speak to the manager,” he demands.
“You are speaking with one, Alpha,” Zoe tells him before waving Macey over.
I’ll give my father one thing: he knows how to cause a scene, as everyone is watching with eager eyes. Marcus looks like he’s about to drag Zoe away from the threat. Oblivious, at the back, the kids are playing and stuffing their tiny faces with snacks.
“This is Macey, another manager here,” Zoe says, introducing them. Macey starts with polite words, ever the professional. Well, that is, until he starts ranting at her and making a fool of himself. I notice Ava shrink in her seat, clearly embarrassed by our father's behavior. Those at the other tables whisper amongst themselves. The woman from Valen's hotel is also seated at my father's table, agreeing and nodding to everything he says.
“Sir, if you don't calm down, I am going to have to escort you from the premises,” Macey tells him. And she would, if needed—she has a bat behind the counter, and she isn't afraid to use it. She’s already done it many times. Though this is slightly different from the everyday usuals, we deal with—this is a room full of Alphas—that won't stop her.
“Escort me? Who the hell do you think you are? I want to speak to the owner,” my father demands. Zoe looks over at me, and I nod to her. She turns back to my father.
“She’s on her way, Alpha,” I hear Zoe say as I swallow and make my way through the tables. Valen looks like he’s about to come with me, but I motion with my hand to stay where he is. I don't need him behind me. I can fight my own battles, and this ismyhotel,myworkers, and he’smyfather.
My father sits down while he waits, arms folded across his chest. Macey and Zoe step away, and I take their place.
“Is there a problem, Alpha?” I ask. My father looks me up and down before his eyes dart to those seated at his table, mouth opening and closing like a fish. My mother just stares unblinkingly at me, while my father stumbles for words. Ava, however, snickers before covering her mouth, trying to stifle her laughter.
“Uh, yes. I want to speak to the owner,” my father finally says with a wave to dismiss me, clearly over his shock at seeing me. Even while I’m standing here in a room full of Alphas, he’ll still try to deny knowing me. That’s fine. They’re about to find out.
“You're looking at her,” I tell him, motioning to myself. If seeing me hadn't shocked him, then finding out I’m the owner definitely does.
“But you're a rogue whore,” he sneers.
“No, I am rogue. That word will not be tolerated in my hotel, Alpha. Or should I say, father?” I ask, smiling down at him.
ChapterSixty-Seven
Everly
The collective gasp that escapes the table is audible throughout the room, and I can see everyone looking in our direction while my father sputters for words. However, Ava simply howls with laughter. So much so that the mayor’s wife looks at her as though she’s lost it. It’s difficult to keep my composure because my sister has the funniest laugh. Ava has one of those laughs that make you laugh because the sound is ridiculous. My mother elbows her and shuts her up effectively with a glare, while my father growls at me. His canines slip from between his parted lips as he glares up at me.
The mayor’s wife looks at my father questioningly. “You have another daughter?” she asks, clearly shocked by this news.
Alpha Nixon, who is about my father's age, with thick blonde hair combed to one side, looks outraged as he stares at us all. My father tries to explain before turning his anger on me and his hands slap the table, but I just stare unflinchingly. This ismyhome, and if he wants to deny my existence, fine, but he won't be doing it under my roof. My mother grips his forearm and glares at Alpha Nixon's wife like she’s about to take her on. But a growl from my father puts her head down as he glares daggers at me.
“You are not my daughter; you haven't been since the day you became a rogue whor–” His words stop at the same moment I feel tingles rush across my neck as a warm hand caresses the side of it, then moves to my shoulder. Valen's scent wafts to me before I feel his lips graze my jawline, and he buries his face in the curve of my shoulder. My father's anger dissolves, replaced with clear and utter shock. Valen tugs me to his side when his hand moves down my arm to my waist, pulling me closer to him. The room turns silent, so silent you could hear a pin drop.
“I don't think I have introduced my mate,” Valen says calmly, though his aura is deadly, and Alpha Nixon's wife drops her head, her cheeks heating. I notice how uncomfortable all the Alphas in the room become, the tension high as Valen—the most prominent figure in the city and strongest, most feared Alpha—addresses my father.
My father huffs and shakes his head before he blows up. Alpha Nixon glares at my father, and my father looks at Ava, who shrinks back in her seat, although the smile never leaves her lips; this is prime entertainment for her.
“I know exactly who this rogue whore is, and she is not your mate,” he adds, shooting me a glare.
“See, that is where you are wrong, Alpha John. Everly is no rogue whore. She is my mate and Luna of the Nightshade Pack,” Valen says.
