I stumbled in my heels, each step an effort as I made my way to the general bathroom instead of my room. Going back to my room would send a message.
A message that Shallow would not take well.
He'd say I was avoiding him. Avoiding his esteemed guest.
And I didn't want to be punished for it.
But as I stepped inside the bathroom, I froze.
Shallow's daughter. Fiona.
She was already there, arms crossed, lips curling into a smirk the moment she saw me.
Sigh. Now I had to deal with this, too.
"The money-grubbing whore is here," she sneered.
I forced a sweet smile. "Hi, Fiona. How's your toothache coming along?"
Her face twisted. "Don't talk back to me, you wench!"
I shrugged. "I see the pain is making your mouth leak bad words."
Her hands clenched at her sides. "You will be dealt with," she hissed before storming out in a flurry of expensive fabric and entitlement.
I sighed again, gripping the counter. I wouldn't let them break me.
Their father could maltreat me all he wanted, but I wouldn't let his children bully me, too.
I met my own gaze in the mirror, and my breath hitched.
Oh dear.
My lipstick was smudged.
A visible sign. A dangerous sign.
Did Fiona notice?
I prayed she didn't as I reached for a napkin, wiping and repairing the mess. But my hands were shaking, not from fear…
From the realization.
I kissed Zephyr. Zephyr kissed me.
Oh mon Dieu.
This was a lot. Too much.
But I needed to go back inside.
I took a deep breath, straightened my dress, and faced my reflection once more.
I was Éloise Moreau.
And I was strong.
Lifting my chin, I turned on my heel and walked out.
As I walked, I wished I could rip off these heels. Every step was a reminder of Shallow's control, the way he dictated what I wore, how I looked. Earlier, I had been breathless, not just from Zephyr but from the suffocating tightness of this dress.
I reached the staircase and clutched the railing, descending slowly. Their voices drifted up from the dining hall, a murmur of conversation and laughter. My mind was so preoccupied, I didn't notice the foot that jutted out in my path until it was too late.
My heel caught.
I gasped, stumbling forward, crashing onto my palms and knees with a sharp cry. The sting of impact flared up my bruised skin, and humiliation burned hotter. I lifted my head, my pulse thundering in my ears.
A low chuckle.
Fabio.
Shallow's eldest son straightened from where he leaned lazily against the railing, towering over me with a smug smirk.
"Fabio!" I snapped, my voice trembling with anger and shame.
He only tilted his head, feigning innocence. "Yes, doll?"
I forced myself to stand, wincing as pain flared up my knees. "Why did you trip me?"
Before he could answer, another voice cut through the air.
"Eloise," Shallow's tone was smooth, almost amused, as he strode toward me, his daughter Fiona trailing behind. "I thought I told you to be on your best behaviour."
My stomach tightened.
"I wasn't doing anything," I protested, swallowing down the lump in my throat. "He tripped me. He, "
The slap came before I saw it.
A crack of flesh against flesh.
My head snapped to the side, my cheek stinging, burning, and my breath hitched. The room spun for a moment before settling into silence.
I didn't dare move.
Shallow stared down at me, his expression unreadable, as if hitting me was nothing more than a casual reprimand.
And I knew, without a doubt, that the worst was yet to come.
"How could you accuse him of such petty little tricks?" Shallow's voice was sharp, edged with feigned disappointment. "How could you embarrass me in front of a guest? I warned you, Eloise. Now, you'll have to be dealt with."
I lifted my head, meeting his gaze, and for the hundredth time, I wondered, was he truly convinced by their lies, or did he simply enjoy punishing me? Did he actually believe them, or was I just an easy target for his cruelty?
A lump formed in my throat, and I sniffed, trying to keep my emotions in check.
"Go sit," he barked.
I flinched but obeyed, turning back toward the dining table. My body ached as I moved, my legs still unsteady from the fall, my cheek burning from the slap.
I reached my chair, and my stomach twisted as my eyes landed on Zephyr. He sat there, expression cold and unreadable, watching, observing.
I dropped my gaze, heart hammering, and lowered myself into the seat across from him.
How much worse could this night get?
I hated my life.
Maybe Zephyr was mad at me for walking away, for leaving him hanging on the balcony after that kiss.
Maybe he thought I was toying with him. But now… now, I just hoped he saw how messy my life really was and how much worse his presence here could make it. He could be mad all he wants; I was a married woman, and it was the right thing to do.
I couldn't eat. I didn't even try. I just sat there, my hands curled into my lap, my body stiff, my mind numb.
Shallow, ever the master of masks, turned to Zephyr with an easy, practiced apology.
Shallow let out a long sigh, shaking his head like a disappointed father addressing a troublesome child. "Forgive her, Alpha Zephyr," he said smoothly, forcing a chuckle. "She's always been like this—ungrateful, thoughtless. A burden, really."
I stiffened.
"She lacks discipline," he continued, gesturing toward me like I was some defective thing he had to explain away. "I've done my best to mold her, but you see how she repays me? Embarrassing me in front of an esteemed guest like yourself."
I kept my gaze lowered, my fists curling in my lap.
"But of course," Shallow added, his voice dipping into something smug, something vile, "her body makes up for all of that. A good woman should know her place, shouldn't she? And I assure you, son, she's very good at pleasing when she behaves."
I sucked in a sharp breath, my nails digging into my palms.
Silence.
Cold. Heavy. Unforgiving.
Zephyr didn't speak. He didn't acknowledge Shallow's words. He only stared at me, his expression unreadable, his icy gaze burning into me like fire against frost.
Shallow cleared his throat, forcing another laugh. "Of course, I only mean that she, "
"Enough."
Zephyr's voice cut through the air, low and sharp, like a blade pressing against skin.
"Enough about her," Zephyr's voice sliced through the air, cold and final.
A shiver ran down my spine.
Shallow hesitated, his lips pressing together, but Zephyr was already moving on. He leaned back in his chair, completely unfazed, and picked up his glass. "Let's have a drink."
Shallow took the cue immediately, forcing a grin. "Oh, of course! Let's go somewhere private and celebrate your return, Alpha Zephyr."
Zephyr didn't even glance his way. His eyes, sharp and calculating, stayed locked on me. "No. Here is fine. Let's all be merry."
I swallowed, my fingers tightening around my fork.
Shallow, trying to keep the mood light, waved a hand toward the servers. "Bring us something strong!" His voice boomed with authority, dripping with arrogance. I wouldn't be surprised if he expected the servants to pour their spit into his drink just to cope with his attitude.
The staff moved quickly, setting down cups and pouring dark amber liquid into glasses. But just as one of them reached to pour mine,
"No."
The word was sharp. Unyielding.
Zephyr hadn't raised his voice, but it carried. It commanded.
The server froze, eyes darting between Zephyr and Shallow.
"Don't serve her. She won't be drinking."
I blinked.
What?
Heat rushed to my face, but not from embarrassment, annoyance, confusion, or frustration. What was this now? Was he just another person here to control me? To dictate what I could and couldn't do?
I wasn't even a fan of alcohol, but suddenly, I wanted that drink just to show him I wasn't a kid, if that's what he thinks of me.
He probably thinks I was easy for him because I'm a child and know nothing.
I'm twenty-one, and yeah, I don't know why I simply let him have his way with me earlier.
I exhaled slowly, dropping my gaze back to my plate, pretending to focus on the untouched food in front of me.
If this was some new way of showing disdain toward me, then fine. Game on.
I flicked my eyes toward Shallow. His jaw twitched, and for a moment, I thought he'd lash out.
He didn't like being undermined, especially not in his own home. But Zephyr turned to him smoothly, eyes unreadable.
"Your drink, Shallow."
It was an order, not a suggestion.
And just like that, Shallow let it go.
The tension hung heavy, but I knew one thing for certain: Zephyr Lacroix wasn't like the others.
And that terrified me.
Because I think he hates me now, and I really can't stand bullies anymore.
I'll just break.
Someone like Zephyr adding me to his blacklist would be horrible; I should probably leave this table.