Knotted By The Devilish Alpha Brothers

Chapter 10: Chapter 10: poisoned by the devils

Amelia was brought back to the room by the maids. She sat on the cold floor of her room, staring at the window across the room. Her knees were drawn to her chest, and her arms wrapped loosely around them.Her gaze remained fixed on the glass, but she saw nothing beyond it—only the hollow reflection of a woman she no longer recognized.

The sky beyond the window was painted in shades of orange and pink.

Her fingers twitched against her shins. A strand of white hair slipped across her shoulder, catching the dying light but she didn’t notice.

**

In Enzo’s office, Rue stood before his desk with her hands clasped behind her back. Enzo sat in his chair, one hand resting on the armrest, the other holding his phone. His grey eyes remained fixed on the screen as a video played in silence.

His brows drew together as he watched the video of the storm that rue was able to provide—purple lightning splitting the sky, the unnatural darkness swallowing the territory, the guests scattering in terror.

"The Blacksmith Territory is still recovering," Rue said. "But the chaos worked in our favor. I gathered far more intel than I expected."

Enzo did not look up. His thumb swiped across the screen, replaying a section of the footage.

"I confirmed that the Blacksmith Territory has been maintaining a secret partnership with the underworld territory."

Enzo’s thumb paused. His frown deepened.

"The shipments they’ve been claiming as agricultural exports are weapons," Rue said. "Some of those shipments have been traced back to your business rivals. The underworld territory is supplying them, and the Blacksmith Alpha is paying in gold and territory access."

She paused, watching his face for any reaction. She found none.

"Also," she added, her voice dropping slightly, "I don’t think the rat should still be alive."

Enzo’s eyes remained on the screen.

"She was involved in political matters in the Blacksmith Territory," Rue said. "She had access to information. She probably still does. Given the fact that she was engaged to the Alpha King and worked closely with his inner circle. That makes her a liability."

Enzo finally looked up from his phone. His grey eyes settled on her with a cold stillness that made her spine stiffen.

"That," he said lowly, "is exactly why she is still alive."

Rue held his gaze, though her fingers curled against her palm.

"We can get intel from anyone else," she said carefully. "The moment she sees an opportunity, she will turn against us."

Enzo set his phone down on the desk.

"I don’t want to go through the trouble of finding another source," he said. "And I have a feeling that keeping that woman alive will bring me closer to the enemies hiding in the shadows."

He leaned back in his chair, his eyes never leaving her face. "Once I find them, I can eliminate them."

His gaze sharpened. "Do you understand?"

Rue’s jaw tightened. A flicker of something hot and sharp passed through her eyes before she suppressed it.

"Yes, Alpha."

Enzo picked up his phone again. The gesture dismissed her.

Rue bowed her head and turned toward the door. She stepped out into the hallway and pulled the door closed behind her.

The moment it clicked shut, her lips pressed together. Her teeth sank into her lower lip until the metallic taste of blood spilled across her tongue.

She walked down the corridor, her steps steady, her posture perfect. But her mind raced with something far darker than obedience.

She had served the Ellington brothers for years. She had earned her place through blood and loyalty. No mistress will just appear to ruin it.

She will get rid of that rat.

*****

A week passed.

Amelia never left her room. No summons came from any of the brothers. The maids came quietly each morning and evening, drawing her bath and guiding her to the water. They wash her, dress her in fresh gowns, brush the tangles from her hair. She never spoke. She simply moved when they guided her and returned to the bed when they finished.

They brought food three times a day. Trays of warm bread, roasted meat, fresh fruit, and steaming broth. She never lifted a single bite to her lips. The maids always took the trays back at the end of the day, untouched, and replaced them with new ones the next morning.

She spent most of her time on the bed, sitting upright against the headboard.

On the eighth day, the door opened.

Dean stepped inside.

He wore a dark shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, revealing the lean muscle of his forearms. His silver-black hair fell across his brow as his pale blue eyes swept the room and landed on her.

Amelia simply remained where she was, her expression blank, her body motionless, as if she is waiting for death.

Dean crossed the room in four strides. His hand shot out and grabbed her face, his fingers pressing into her jaw with enough force to pry her mouth open.

Shock jolted through Amelia’s body. Her hands flew up instinctively, her fingers wrapping around his wrist as she tried to push him away. But her arms were weak from a week without food, and her grip slipped uselessly against his skin. S

He produced a small glass bottle from his pocket with his other hand. He uncorked it with his teeth and poured the contents directly into her mouth.

The liquid burned. Thick and bitter and wrong. It slid down her throat before she could stop it, and her body convulsed against the invasion. Her fingers clawed weakly at his arm, but he held her jaw closed with iron force, forcing her to swallow. Her eyes widened as she choked, the liquid searing its way down.

When he released her, she collapsed forward onto the mattress, coughing violently. Her chest heaved as she gasped for air, her throat burning with every breath. Tears had formed at the corners of her eyes, though she could not say if they were from the shock or the pain.

"You do want to kill her already."

The voice came from the doorway. Reid leaned against the frame as he surveyed the scene with obvious amusement.

"We were supposed to deliver the deadly poison after the interrogation."

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