Alpha's Private Plaything (Elsa and Drake Stone) novel Chapter 143

Alpha’s Private Plaything

Chapter 143

Drake

Without another word, I stormed out, shoving a chair so hard it

crashed into the wall. Jason hurried to keep pace with me. We took

the stairs two at a time, my every instinct screaming to find Elsa, to

reclaim what was mine.

“Drake,” Jason panted behind me, grabbing my shoulder, “think about

what you’re doing. This is neutral territory.”

I shook off his hand and continued my ascent, blood pounding in my

ears.

When we reached the fourth floor, I strode directly to room 401 and

pounded on the door hard enough to make the wood crack, the frame

shuddering under the assault of my fist.

“Drake, for fuck’s sake,” Jason hissed, “you can’t just—”

The door swung open, revealing Allen in a white bathrobe, his hair

damp from a recent shower. My eyes immediately zeroed in on the

suspicious scratches on his neck–fresh marks that looked like they’d

been made by a woman’s nails. My nostrils flared, catching Elsa’s

1/7

Chapter 143

scent all over him. A wave of possessive rage crashed through me, my

vision tinged with red.

“Where the hell is she?” I demanded, my voice so cold it could have

frozen hell itself, hands trembling with the effort not to wrap them

around his throat.

Allen didn’t even attempt to deny it. He nodded once, stepping back.

“She’s inside. But she’s not well, Stone.”

I shoved past him with enough force to make him stumble, nearly

ripping the door off its hinges as I entered the room. The scene

before me made my blood boil and my heart hammer against my

ribcage.

Elsa was lying on the bed, also dressed in a hotel bathrobe. Her

golden hair was splayed across the pillow, her face flushed. Even from

across the room, I could see the unmistakable marks on her neck-

hickeys, fresh and dark against her pale skin. Her evening gown and

underwear lay discarded on a chair nearby, visibly damp.

“Motherfucker,” I snarled, a sound more animal than human tearing

from my throat as I approached the bed. Elsa’s eyes were half–closed, and she was making small, pained noises that sounded like fevered

moans.

217

Chapter 143

“What the fuck did you do to her?” I rounded on Allen, my claws fully

extended now, muscles coiled to spring.

“Nothing she didn’t want,” he replied calmly. “She was soaking wet

when I found her on the lower deck. She could barely stand. I brought

her here to help her.”

“Bullshit,” I spat, stepping close enough to feel his breath. “You took

advantage of her, you sick bastard.”

“I gave her a place to rest and dry clothes. That’s all.” His tone was maddeningly reasonable. “You can check the bathroom if you don’t believe me. Her clothes were wet. I let her shower and gave her a

robe.”

I turned back to Elsa, who was stirring on the bed. Her eyes fluttered open, confusion evident in them until they locked on me. Recognition flooded her features, followed immediately by something that looked

suspiciously like guilt.

She sat up quickly–too quickly–and swayed, clearly dizzy. “Mr. Stone,” she said, her voice raspy as she clutched the bathrobe tighter

around herself.

I crossed the room in three savage strides, grabbed her wrist, and yanked her to her feet, my grip iron–tight. The sudden movement

317

Chapter 143

threw her off balance, and she stumbled against my chest. I could

smell Allen all over her–his soap, his cologne, his fucking presence- and it took every ounce of my self–control not to shift right there and

tear his throat out.

“We’re leaving,” I said, my voice brooking no argument, jaw clenched

so tight I thought my teeth might shatter.

Allen moved to block the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. “Mr. Stone, you can’t just barge into my room and take my guest. That’s

not appropriate, is it?”

“Get out of my fucking way,” I growled, my free hand curling into a

fist.

“No.” He stood his ground, shoulders squared. “I can’t just let you drag her away like this. She needs medical attention. She was ill.”

“Elsa is mine,” I snapped, possessiveness and rage making my voice

inhuman as I pulled her closer to my

side.

Allen’s eyes narrowed. “Yours? You and Ms. Hale have an employment relationship, nothing more. And from what I understand, you already

have someone else.”

The mention of Vera made my temper explode, a vein throbbing

417

Chapter 143

visibly at my temple.

Before I could respond, Elsa’s hand touched my arm. “It’s okay,” she

said softly, addressing Allen. “I’m sorry for the trouble, and thank you

for your help.”

Allen hesitated, then stepped aside, but not before pressing a

business card into Elsa’s free hand. “If you need anything, call me. My

company would welcome someone with your talents.”

I saw red. The fucking audacity of this wolf to try and poach what was mine, right in front of me. Without thinking, I bent down, scooped Elsa up, and threw her over my shoulder like a sack of flour. I grabbed her clothes from the chair as I passed, not about to leave a single

trace of her in this bastard’s room.

In the hallway, Elsa began to struggle, her fists pounding against my back. “Put me down!” she hissed. “This is a public place, and I’m your

assistant, not your personal property!”

I ignored her protests, my face set in a mask of barely controlled fury as I carried her back to our suite, each step punctuated by the force of my heel against the floor. The few guests we passed in the hallway quickly averted their eyes, pressing themselves against the wall to

avoid me.

5/7

Chapter 143

Once inside our room, I kicked the door shut behind us with enough force to rattle the paintings on the wall and dropped Elsa unceremoniously onto the bed. I turned the lock with a decisive click, then faced her, my chest heaving as I struggled to contain the wolf

inside me.

“Take off your clothes,” I ordered, my voice dangerously low. “Now. I want to see exactly what you and Allen did. Don’t make me ask twice,

Elsa.”

Elsa’s eyes widened, then narrowed to angry slits. “Fuck you,” she spat, the venom in her voice matching my own.

I could see the calculation in her eyes, the memories of ten years of unequal power dynamics between us flashing across her face. For the first time, she looked at me not with desire or even reluctant

compliance, but with pure, undiluted hatred.

She lunged forward, hand raised to slap me. I caught her wrist easily, holding it firmly enough to prevent the blow but not so tight as to bruise her, my breathing ragged with barely controlled fury.

“You’re going to hit me?” I laughed coldly, my thumb tracing the pulse point at her wrist. “Really, Elsa? You’d strike me for him?”

The look in her eyes told me everything I needed to know. This wasn’t

6/7

Chapter 143

just about tonight. This was about ten years of accumulated

resentment, finally boiling over.

And I had no idea what to do about it.