A Mate To Three Alpha Heirs novel Chapter 3

{Elira}

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“I… I’m sorry, my Lord.” I bowed quickly, regaining myself.

I quickly shoved the fabric deep into the bag and got to my feet before he could extend his hand.

Lennon, was the second of Alpha Cyprus’s triplet sons, and he didn’t look like he recognized me.

He glanced at the stained bundle in my arms. “That looks ruined.”

That reminder worsened my emotional state.

“You shouldn’t be lost in thought in a place like this,” he added. “You could have been badly hurt.”

I agreed with a nod. Then—

“I will pay for a new one.”

My breath hitched.

His offer was kind. And dangerous.

I looked up at him, considered it for half a second, but the small crowd now forming reminded me what it would cost.

If Lady Maren ever discovered that I had taken money from one of the triplet heirs… I wouldn’t survive the night.

I weighed the options quickly. Between a beating for ruining Regina’s engagement fabric and a painful death for taking money from him, I knew which one I would survive.

If I wanted death, it wouldn’t be like my innocent parents.

“Thank you, my Lord,” I murmured. “But I can fix it.”

I bowed deeper and vanished into the crowd.

I ran the entire way back to the jewellery store, panic closing around my ribs like a tight belt.

Lady Maren was already standing, her eyes dropping immediately to the bag in my arms. She didn’t need to see inside to know.

“What happened to the fabric?” she asked sharply.

Before I could speak, the designer offered gently, “It looks like she tripped.”

The slap landed without warning.

My head snapped sideways and my ears rang with high-pitched buzzing.

“How dare you ruin your cousin’s engagement dress?” Her voice cut deeper than the slap.

I didn’t raise a hand to my face. That would only anger her more.

“She’s bleeding,” the designer said softly. “Her arms…”

I looked down—scraped elbows and knees, dirt clinging to my torn dress. I hadn’t even noticed.

Lady Maren didn’t blink. “And what do you want me to do with that information?” she asked the designer coolly. “Feel sorry for her?”

The woman fell silent.

And with that, the room turned colder. Her brief moment of pity vanished, replaced by quiet scorn, like I had ruined her day, too.

After settling the necklace sketch and finalizing her choices, Lady Maren paid and walked out without another word.

We returned to the tailor, where she repurchased the same fabric and gave no instruction, except that I would be the one to collect it.

Then she left in a rickshaw without me.

I walked home alone. But one thought clung to me more tightly than the package I held:

Why hadn’t Lady Maren made me pay for it?

The answer came the moment I stepped inside the house.

Regina was waiting with two female servants. Her eyes were dry, but the fury in them wasn’t. She didn’t scream at me yet.

Her heel jabbed between my ribs this time, crushing breath from my lungs.

I gasped, but no sound came. My chest slammed into the ground, and I tasted blood from my lips.

This was the real punishment.

Lady Maren hadn’t spared me earlier—she had simply handed the sentence to her favourite executioner.

And Regina delivered it perfectly. With joy.

But as she raised her leg again, footsteps came running from the corridor. Then a door opened.

“Miss Regina!” a servant called. “Your father—Beta Marc—has returned!”

Regina jumped off my back and ran out that second and finally, I was alone.

Uncle Marc had been gone for a week, and I supposed she must have missed him at least a little.

But I didn’t move.

If I went out there now, he would see my state and ask questions. And I didn’t know how to lie to him.

Uncle Marc would be furious if he knew the truth. He always had been, the few times I had dared to tell him the truth when I started living with them. But whatever scolding he gave them in private, Lady Maren and Regina always made sure I paid for it later.

The more I told him, the worse they got. And he was never around long enough to see it.

Whenever he travelled, it was just me and them—and in that absence, they did whatever they liked.

My fate was always in their hands, so I stayed on the floor until the pain dulled enough for me to stand.

There was still time before dinner, enough to let me clean the blood from my arms and hide the bruises beneath long sleeves and my back. So, I used it carefully and quietly. Like always.

And at the same time, I was hoping Uncle Marc doesn’t notice anything out of place with me.

He had sharp eyes.