Knotted By The Devilish Alpha Brothers

Chapter 47: Chapter 47: slutty mirrors

Just let me die right now.

The silent plea burned through Amelia’s mind as heat flooded her entire face.She wanted nothing more than to disappear beneath the blankets and never come back out.

Enzo asked. "Reid. Weren’t you supposed to lock the door?"

Reid didn’t even look guilty. "That was Dean’s job."

"It was not," Dean replied immediately.

"Enough."

Madame’s single word cut through the room. Behind her, the maids kept their expressions carefully blank, as if walking in on this exact scene was nothing unusual—yet a faint awkward tension still hung around them.

The three men released Amelia at once. The sudden absence of their hands and mouths left a hollow, unwanted ache low in her stomach. I hate that i felt that.

Quickly she yanked her nightwear shorts back up, fingers clumsy with residual tremor, then dragged herself off the bed without looking at any of them. If she met their eyes she might have to admit—even to herself—how much she had liked what just happened.

Madame’s gaze settled on her. "It’s time to prepare for the ceremony."

Amelia only nodded and followed the maids out of the room, spine rigid, refusing to glance back.

Once the door closed and the sound of footsteps faded, Madame turned to her sons. Her expression was calm, but her eyes were sharp. "Almost everyone of importance is coming today to see if the rumors are true—that the three of you actually took a wife. If they find even the slightest sign that you do not cherish her, they will decide the entire arrangement is a farce. I trust that particular problem will not arise."

Enzo met her gaze without hesitation. "We cherish our woman."

The words left his mouth with unsettling ease. He disliked how natural they sounded.

Madame studied the three of them for a moment longer. A small, knowing smile touched her lips before she turned and left them alone.

In her own room, Amelia stood in front of the tall mirror after finishing her morning routine. The maids had dressed her in an elaborate dark-green metallic ensemble that looked as if it belonged on a stage rather than in real life. A wet-look bra top lined with gold studs and cascading chains framed her ribs.

A wide filigree gold choker set with a green gemstone rested against her throat, connected to a multi-tiered drop necklace. Matching dark-green metallic silk sat low on her hips, held by a heavily embellished gold belt with a central medallion and delicate chains that draped across her bare midriff. High double thigh-slits revealed decorative gold filigree garters. Patterned cuffs circled both biceps, and a fine gold chain bracelet rested on her right wrist.

She barely recognized the woman staring back at her. The reflection looked like some kind of dangerous, expensive goddess.

Don’t be ridiculous. You might look decent, but you’ve never compared to the women these men have had.

The thought irritated her the moment it formed. Why did she even care?

The door opened. Skye walked in, gave her a once-over, and shrugged. "You look averagely good."

Amelia didn’t accept the half-compliment. The remaining maids filed out once their work was finished, leaving the two of them alone. Amelia continued staring blankly at her reflection, the elaborate dark-green and gold ensemble feeling more like armor than clothing.

"Am I really going to get fucked in public?"

Skye raised an eyebrow. "Still in denial just because you’re a virgin?"

Amelia’s fingers tightened at her sides. "This would be my first time. Having that memory that i got fucked for a public spectacle isn’t... ordinary."

Skye’s expression flickered into a brief frown. "It’s time to go."

Amelia followed her out of the room, down the stairs, and into the waiting vehicle. The drive lasted nearly an hour. When the car finally slowed, the venue came into view—elegant canopies stretched across manicured garden floors, rows of seats arranged to face a raised stage at the front rather than the center.

Guests were already arriving. Alphas and their mates moved through the space in formal attire; most of the women wore elaborate, revealing outfits similar to Amelia’s, though none matched the exact dark-green and gold design she had been given.

Skye led her forward with several guards trailing behind. She guided Amelia to a prominent section of seats and gestured for her to sit. Three empty chairs waited beside her—clearly reserved for the brothers. Curious and openly snide stares followed her every step. Amelia kept her gaze fixed ahead, refusing to meet any of them.

"Do I have to stay here until the ceremony begins?"

"No," Skye answered. "There are feast stalls if you want food. There’s also a section where the women check themselves in the magic mirrors."

Amelia’s curiosity stirred. "I want to see the magic mirrors."

Skye didn’t question it. She simply turned and led the way down a separate pathway, ignoring the continuing stares. They reached a quieter area lined with tall, ornate mirrors. Women stood in front of them, studying their own reflections with intense focus—some adjusting their expressions into soft, practiced looks of pleasure that made Amelia’s skin crawl.

This is psychotic.

As if reading the thought, Skye spoke without looking at her. "It’s normal here. Popularity at these events can open a lot of doors and connections. I know that kind of thing isn’t valuable to you, though." She glanced toward the perimeter. "The guards aren’t allowed inside the mirror section, but their eyes won’t leave you. I have another errand to run. Take care of yourself."

She left with a small, knowing look that Amelia wasn’t aware of since she was distracted.

Alone now, Amelia stepped in front of one of the mirrors. For a moment her reflection simply stared back—same dark-green outfit, same tense posture.

Then the figure in the glass moved on its own. The reflection’s hands rose, cupping its own breasts, head tilting as it gave her a blatant, inviting look that clearly said fuck me.

Amelia took a sharp step back, thoroughly creeped out.

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