Alpha's Private Plaything (Elsa and Drake Stone) novel Chapter 169

Chapter 169

Elsa

I stared at the check in my hand–two hundred thousand dollars. A

small fortune for me, pocket change for the Stones. The lawyer across

the desk smiled sympathetically as I signed the settlement

agreement, my hand trembling with a mixture of relief and

resentment.

“Dr. Green has accepted your compensation and withdrawn his

complaint,” she said, sliding a formal letter of understanding toward

1. me. “ Stone was quite persuasive. The promotion to head of

neurology at the Black Obsidian Medical Center apparently

sweetened the deal considerably.”

My fingers trembled slightly as I took the letter, jaw clenching at the

reminder of just how easily the Stones could manipulate anyone’s life.

Marcus Stone’s intervention had resolved in days what might have

taken months of legal battles. The power of the Stone family name

was both impressive and terrifying.

“Thank you,” I managed, shoving the documents into my purse with

more force than necessary.

Outside the law office, I paced nervously before my phone rang–it

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was my mother.

“Elsa! Oliver’s being released!” Her voice, stronger than it had been in

weeks, filled me with relief. “The court considered the family

circumstances and decided not to press charges.”

I leaned against the building, closing my eyes and exhaling deeply.

“That’s… that’s incredible news, Mom. Fuck, I needed something good

today.”

“He’s lost weight, but his spirits are steady. We should celebrate

tonight!”

1

I hesitated, fingers fidgeting with my car keys. “I can’t tonight. I need

to visit the Stone residence.”

“The Stones?” Surprise colored her voice. “Elsa, are you sure that’s

wise?”

“Marcus helped us, Mom. I need to thank him properly.” And sell

another piece of my soul to that damn family, I thought bitterly.

After hanging up, I headed to Midnight Treasures, the most exclusive

gift boutique in the city. I selected a pair of silver wolf–head cufflinks

for Marcus, a moonstone pendant for Miranda, and a traditional

brooch for the grandmother–purchases that emptied my savings

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account by another twenty–five thousand dollars.

A small price for the debt I owe, I thought, biting my lip hard enough

to taste blood. Marcus’s help wasn’t just a favor–it was a goddamn

lifeline.

The Stone family estate loomed against the afternoon sky, its stone

façade imposing and cold. A place I’d visited countless times over the

years, yet never truly belonged. My stomach knotted as I parked my

car, gripping the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white.

The elderly housekeeper welcomed me with a warm smile. “Miss Hale!

What a delightful surprise.”

Mrs. Stone, Drake’s grandmother, emerged from the sitting room. Her

usually stern face softened when she saw me, a rare smile crinkling

the corners of her eyes.

“Elsa, dear. It’s been too long.” She accepted my gift with gracious

hands. “You shouldn’t have.”

Miranda appeared next, her face lighting up. “Elsa!” She rushed

forward, embracing me. My body tensed before I forced myself to

return the hug. “What a wonderful surprise!”

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I presented their gifts, my cheeks burning as I ignored Miranda’s

protests. “Please, I insist. After what Mr. Stone did for my family…”

My voice cracked slightly, shoulders hunching.

“Nonsense,” Miranda said, though she admired the pendant. “We take

care of our own.”

Our own. The phrase stung like a slap. I’d never truly been “their

own“-just Drake’s temporary contract mate, an Omega they

tolerated. My hands balled into fists at my sides before I forced them

to relax.

“Let me help with dinner,” I offered, following Miranda to the kitchen,

desperate for something to do with my restless hands. “I’ve been

practicing that silver fish soup recipe from your collection.”

“Drake’s favorite,” Miranda commented, her eyes twinkling with

something I couldn’t quite read.

I busied myself preparing the ingredients, falling into the familiar

rhythm of cooking in this kitchen. Years ago, I’d spent weeks

perfecting this soup, desperate to please Drake, to feel worthy of his

attention.