Knotted By The Devilish Alpha Brothers

Chapter 52: Chapter 52: u are not in control

Amelia let out a long, shaky sigh. Her shoulders dropped, and she reached forward and stopped the recording, then immediately hit replay.

Watching herself speak felt strange, but it all good. She set the phone face-up on the nightstand, staring at the dark screen as if sheer willpower could force an answer to appear.

Please reply, Night Menace. Just... answer me.

She crossed to the cupboard, opened the small jar, and tipped a single sleeping pill into her palm. For a second she only looked at it, thumb brushing over the smooth surface. "Good luck, to myself" she muttered to herself.

She swallowed it with a quick sip of water, set the glass down, and climbed into bed. Swifty shifted closer on the mattress. Amelia turned onto her side, one hand loosely curled near the bird, and closed her eyes. As the drug began to pull her under, a thin thread of relief wound through the exhaustion. For once she wasn’t fighting the dark. She let it take her.

**

Elsewhere, far from the estate’s quiet corridors, Rue was on the cold ground.

Blood soaked through the side of her clothes and pooled beneath her. Her breathing came short and sharp, every inhale scraping against the deep wound. She lifted her head, teeth clenched, eyes burning with fury as she glared up at the figure standing over her.

"What the fuck—this wasn’t the plan at all." Her voice came out rough. "We had the perfect window to take Amelia before the ceremony started. That was the entire point. You ruined it by attacking after."

The man looked down at her without sympathy. "We don’t take orders from you. Just because you helped us slip past security doesn’t mean you get to decide the schedule. We were never here to indulge your personal little vendetta. You already knew that."

Rue’s gaze dropped to the blood-stained ground. Her fingers curled weakly against the dirt. "I know. But your people could have done both."

"We have plenty of chances to take the girl." His added flatly. "What we actually need is information on the brothers—their weaknesses. You’ve been working for them for three years and still haven’t delivered a single useful thing."

Rue swallowed, the motion tight with pain and frustration. "Those men don’t trust anyone. The only person who might actually know their weak points is their mother, and she’ll sense something the second I start asking questions like that."

The man reached into his pocket and set a small, smooth round ball on the ground in front of her. It looked ordinary and harmless. "Then make yourself useful a different way. Get this inside Amelia’s room. And also, the injury won’t kill you. You’ll have a convenient story for why the ceremony was attacked under your watch."

Before Rue could answer, his form blurred and vanished, leaving her alone with the bleeding wound and the small object on the ground.

Rue stared at the ball, breath still uneven with anger. There was nothing she could do but obey.

She reached out, fingers sticky with her own blood, and closed her hand around it. Whatever the thing was meant to do to Amelia, she hoped the effect would be thoroughly, irreversibly terrible.

**

In the quiet of Amelia’s room, her body sat up.

The Night Menace was awake.

Swifty stirred at the same moment, silver feathers shifting in the low light. The closed-eyed woman turned toward the bird and smiled. She scooped Swifty into her arms, cradling the warm weight against her chest.

"Looks like my non-menace self finally wants to know more about me," she murmured. She stroked the bird’s head once with her thumb, then gently set Swifty back on the mattress.

She rose from the bed in one fluid motion, and picked up the phone. The recorded message was still open. She played it through without expression, listening to every hesitant word. When it ended she gave a quiet, considering hum.

"I can’t tell her everything," she said to the empty room. "She’ll have to figure most of it out herself... or wait until we’re finally reunited with our lovers. I can’t risk a single mistake."

Her head tilted toward Swifty again. "At least I can explain why the powers are only waking up now. But that conversation will only happen after I see the sweet boys."

She placed the phone face-down, turned, and walked out of the room. Bare feet moved in an easy, almost swaying rhythm along the hallway. She stopped first at the brothers’ individual doors. Each handle refused to turn—locked.

A small smile curved her mouth. She already knew where they would be.

The office door opened under her hand with dramatic flair. She stepped inside as though she had been invited.

"How touching," she said, closed eyes somehow still managing to look directly at each of them. "You three were waiting so eagerly for me. How did you know I would come?"

Enzo stood behind the desk. "We just had a feeling."

"I suppose you want to ask about the attack. The little gift the Underworld Territory decided to deliver during your ceremony." She drifted farther into the room, voice turning almost dreamy. "Though I have to say... the way the three of you were handling me before everything fell apart was sweet. The touches. The kisses. I really didn’t want it to stop."

Reid’s jaw tightened. "Can you focus for five seconds?"

She turned her closed-eyed face toward him, smile sharpening with pure mischief. "Why? Do you want to be spanked again? You’ve already collected your little bit of payback, after all."

Reid’s mouth snapped shut. Heat crawled up the back of his neck. The memory of that sharp, humiliating smack still lingered on his skin—and the part that burned worst was the unwanted flicker of enjoyment that had gone with it. He looked away, refusing to give her the satisfaction of another word.

The Night Menace’s expression softened into something almost thoughtful as she drifted farther into the office. "The Underworld Territory wants the three of you dead," she said simply. "You were always threats to them in your past lives. And more importantly... you’re connected to someone who could completely ruin their plans for world domination."

Enzo’s grey eyes narrowed. "Who?"

She gave a small, regretful tilt of her head. "I can’t tell you that. The people tied to you are living entirely different lives right now. But fate has a habit of dragging them back toward you eventually. Sooner or later, the threads will pull tight again."

She paused, then turned her closed-eyed face toward all three of them, the playful edge returning. "Speaking of threads... during that little performance on the stage—before the meteors crashed the party—did any of you feel something else? Something beyond the obvious heat and the hard-ons?"

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