The Secret Heirs of the Lycan King (by Misha K) novel Chapter 47

**When Midnight Winds Carry Secrets Toward Worlds Yet Unknown**
**Chapter 47**

**Bella**

The week unfolded like a tempest, filled with unexpected activity that seemed to sweep me off my feet. Scott was a force of nature, driven by an insatiable urge to fast-track the setup of the store, as if he were racing against an invisible clock. I often found myself puzzled by the urgency that radiated from him, yet I couldn’t help but go along with it, perhaps fueled by my own eagerness to wrap things up quickly so I could return to Dallas and take charge of the aftermath of the fire. The thought of managing the repairs weighed heavily on my mind, but Scott’s enthusiasm was infectious, even if I struggled to fully embrace it.

As the sun dipped below the horizon each evening, signaling the end of our workday, Scott would insist on driving me home. I often protested, attempting to maintain a semblance of independence, but he remained unwavering in his determination. One day, in a surprising show of strength, he scooped me up effortlessly and carried me to the parking lot. My face flushed with embarrassment as I buried it in his chest, mortified at the thought of being recognized. Once again, the tabloids were flashing my picture alongside his, their headlines screaming of our connection, a narrative I was both drawn to and repelled by.

In just a matter of days, I found myself at his villa, where the twins had warmed up to him with an ease that surprised even me. Scott’s patience with them was remarkable; it was as if he possessed an endless reservoir of kindness. Yet, amidst the laughter and joy, I couldn’t shake a twinge of guilt, as if I were somehow exploiting his generosity. The chemistry between us crackled in the air, an electric undercurrent that made every shared glance feel laden with unspoken desire. Not a single day passed without the urge to throw myself into his arms, to surrender to the magnetic pull that seemed to bind us together. Sleeping so close to him, within the inviting walls of his home, was a tantalizing torment that stirred my mind, body, and soul, igniting a longing I had yet to fully understand.

Then came the weekend, arriving with unsettling swiftness. A dilemma weighed heavily on my mind: should I attend Grandmother Isla’s birthday party? Maya had been unusually sweet all week, her persistent encouragement nudging me toward the event, and I found myself torn between duty and reluctance.

Reluctantly, I stood before the mirror, fastening my pearl earrings and adjusting the pale pink dress that hugged my figure just right. The clock read 8:30 PM, and I had intentionally delayed my arrival, hoping to minimize my time spent amidst the gathering. With Nancy looking after Emma and Ryan, and Scott called away for an urgent meeting, I felt a sense of security knowing that one of Scott’s drivers would be escorting me. Yet, the thought of facing my estranged father, Jared, filled me with a mix of dread and uncertainty. Would he be pleased to see me, or would his expression betray a sadness that echoed the chasm between us?

As I stood outside my house, I observed the stream of guests entering, their laughter and chatter creating a vibrant tapestry of warmth and joy. It was a picturesque scene that felt painfully out of reach for me. My throat tightened, and I fought back tears that threatened to spill over. Clutching the bouquet tightly, I ascended the stairs, each step heavy with anticipation.

“Bellaaaa!” Maya’s voice rang out, slicing through my thoughts like a knife. I turned to see her rushing toward me, arms outstretched. As she enveloped me in a tight embrace, I felt a wave of discomfort wash over me. “I’m so glad you’ve come,” she exclaimed, her enthusiasm drawing the attention of several onlookers. I caught glimpses of shocked faces and curious stares, and I knew that some of them were reporters, ready to capture any moment that might feed their insatiable hunger for scandal.

I clenched my jaw, irritation bubbling beneath the surface. Maya’s sweetness felt like a facade, and I instinctively stepped back, creating distance between us. “Where’s Grandmother?” I asked, my tone sharper than I intended, betraying my growing unease. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Craig observing us with an intensity that made my skin crawl.

“Right over there,” Maya replied, her finger pointing toward the far end of the main hall. There stood Isla, her gaze soft and welcoming, a beacon of warmth amidst the chaos. Taking a deep breath, I pushed through the throngs of people, determined to reach her despite the scathing looks directed my way.

Murmurs erupted around me, a chorus of judgment that pierced the air like arrows.

“She’s here to stake her claim.”

“Yes, now that Jared is unwell, she wants his money.”

“What a bitch!”

The realization that Maya had orchestrated this encounter for the sake of public ridicule settled heavily in my chest. I braced myself against the onslaught of whispers, quickening my pace toward Isla.

“Grandmother!” I called out, presenting her with the bouquet. “Happy birthday!”

Her face lit up with joy, and tears glistened in her eyes. “My baby,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “I’m so happy you’re here.”

I wrapped my arms around her, savoring the warmth of her embrace. We lingered in that moment, reluctant to break the connection. Overwhelmed by emotion, a single tear escaped my eye. “I missed you…”

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