Chapter 233
Elle’s POV
I stared at Peter, waiting for an answer that we both knew wouldn’t come.
‘I see,” I said quietly, my voice cutting through the winter air like ice. “That tells me everything I need to know.‘
‘I’ve already called Brad. I’m leaving. And from now on, I hope we can maintain a… safe distance from each other.
Peter’s eyes widened with something that looked like panic. “Elle, wait-”
But I was already turning away, my decision made. The Hamilton family had shown me their true colors today. They might put on a good show of civility, but when push came to shove, they’d protect their own.
“Elle, please!”
I felt his hand close around my wrist, warm and desperate. I stopped but didn’t turn around.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice breaking slightly. “I’m so fucking sorry. You’re right – about everything. About my family, about Calista, about…” He took a shaky breath. “This is all my fault. I should have seen what Calista was becoming,” he continued, his grip on my wrist tightening slightly. “I should have protected you better. This kind of thing… it will never happen again. I swear to you, Elle. And whatever needs to be done about Calista and me – I’ll give you a satisfactory answer.”
I frowned, confused by the shift in his demeanor.
I stared at him in disbelief. “You’re kidding me. I don’t need your answer. I don’t need your protection! I’m not Dakota, you know?*
“No,” he said quickly, but his voice lacked conviction. “It’s not like that. I know you’re not her. I know you’re Elle West, you’re Brad’s mate, you’re carrying his
child. I know all of that.”
‘But?‘
He was quiet for a long moment. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely audible. “But sometimes, when I look at you… I can almost pretend she’s still
here.‘
The honesty in his admission made my stomach turn. “This conversation is over. I don’t want to see you again.”
“Elle. His voice was soft, pleading. ‘Don’t be like this.‘
‘Like what? Like someone who refuses to be your dead girlfriend’s stand–in?” I pulled my hands away from his. “And please don’t call me by my first name. Call me Mrs. Rayne. We’re not that close.”
The hurt that flashed across his face was almost comical. ‘Please,” he whispered, and suddenly he was much closer than he had been a moment before. “Being with you… it feels so much like being with her. Just once, could you-‘
“No.” My voice was sharp, final.
But Peter wasn’t listening anymore. His eyes had taken on a glassy, unfocused quality, like he was seeing someone else entirely. “Dakota,” he breathed, and before I could react, he had stepped forward, backing me against the garden wall.
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Chapter 233
Panic shot through me as I found myself trapped between his body and the cold stone. ‘Peter, look at me, I said firmly, pressing my hands against his chest to maintain distance. I’m not Dakota. I’m Elle West. I’m Brad’s mate.”
But he was lost in whatever fantasy was playing out in his head. “I missed you so much, he murmured, his face inches from mine. “Why did you leave me? Why did you choose him over me?”
This was insane. He was completely delusional, talking to a dead woman while looking at me. I could feel my heart racing, not just from fear but from genuine concern for his mental state.
‘Peter, you need to snap out of this,” I said, my voice rising slightly. “You’re scaring me.”
When he didn’t respond, when he actually leaned closer like he was planning to embrace me, I did the only thing I could think of. I slapped him. Hard.
The sound echoed through the garden, sharp and decisive. Peter’s head snapped to the side, a red mark blooming across his cheek. But instead of coming to his senses, he slowly turned back to me with a small, sad smile.
I stared at him in horror. He was completely gone, so lost in his delusion that physical pain couldn’t even break through. This wasn’t grief anymore – this was something much more dangerous. “Peter, stop,” I said desperately. “You’re sick. You need help.”
‘I loved you first,” he said, his voice breaking with old pain. “Before he ever looked at you, I was already in love. Why wasn’t that enough? Why did you have to choose money and status over real love?”
My phone rang, cutting through his rambling like a lifeline. I fumbled for it with shaking hands, never taking my eyes off Peter’s delusional face.
“Brad?” I answered, my voice cracking with relief and barely contained panic.
“Elle? What’s wrong?” Brad’s voice was sharp with immediate concern.
I felt tears start to spill down my cheeks as the reality of the situation hit me. “Brad, please come get me. Please take me home.”
Behind Brad’s voice, I could hear the sound of a car engine. “I’m almost there. Are you hurt?”
‘Just… please hurry,” I whispered.
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At the sound of my tears, something shifted in Peter’s expression. The glassy look in his eyes flickered, and for a moment, I saw awareness creep back in. He looked at my face – really looked at it – and the color drained from his features.
‘Oh God,” he breathed, stumbling backward like I’d burned him. “Elle? What did I… what was …”
But I was already sliding along the wall, putting as much distance between us as possible.
I didn’t look back. I couldn’t. I just kept walking, my phone still pressed to my ear, listening to the sound of Brad’s car getting closer.
‘I’m here,” I whispered into the phone when I finally saw the familiar headlights cutting through the garden’s darkness. ‘Brad, I’m here.”
I found myself on the stone steps leading to the garden’s main path, my legs finally giving out. The tears I’d been holding back came in waves, and I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to stop the shaking.
The sound of car doors slamming echoed through the winter air, followed by hurried footsteps on the gravel path.
*Elle!‘
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Chapter 233
Brad’s voice cut through my sobs like a lifeline. I looked up to see him striding toward me.
Baby, what happened?” Brad dropped to his knees beside me on the steps, immediately pulling me into his arms.
‘I’m okay,” I whispered against his coat, even as fresh tears spilled down my cheeks. ‘I’m okay, I’m not hurt.”
“Who did this?” His voice was deadly quiet, the kind of calm that preceded a storm.
I shook my head frantically. “It’s nothing. It’s just a scratch.”
Brad’s amber eyes searched my face, and I could see him cataloging every tear track, every sign of distress. “Elle, someone made you cry. Someone hurt you.” His voice was getting lower, more dangerous. “Was it Calista?”
“No,” I said quickly, maybe too quickly. “No, it wasn’t her. I just… I don’t feel well. Pregnancy hormones, you know?”
Over my head, I caught him making a subtle gesture to Alex, a meaningful look that said find out what happened.
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
