The Alpha’s Slave

S POV

For a moment, I lost myself. I forgot how to think and react. I lifted my head from the letter, blinking severally in confusion, scoffing in disbelief as I tried to wrap my head around what I just read.

That was Catherine’s mum, Regina Hardwell, the woman who once saw and treated me as a son threatening and wishing me bad. It hurts. It hurts really bad. My heart bled in my chest. How quickly people can turn against you especially when you’re the innocent one?

Now I understand the saying, “An apple never falls far from the tree.” It wouldn’t surprise me if Catherine got her rude and mean behaviour from her mother. I wish I had known that before I married Catherine and got to know her family.Exclusive © material by Nô(/v)elDrama.Org.

I closed the letter and put it back in the envelope, trying not to fall apart, trying to get myself back together.

Should I be scared? No. Empty vessels make the loudest noise. Those were empty threats. They meant nothing. She wouldn’t dare touch even a strand of my hair. And if she ever tries to harm Brianna, I will come for her, and I will crush her. Since she now sees me as the enemy, it’s better to keep it that way.

Should I feel bad? No, definitely not. I have been living my life well even before she came into it. I can cope fine on my own with or without sharing ownership in her kingdom. Maybe I shouldn’t have agreed to marry Catherine. Maybe I shouldn’t have chosen this part. All this wouldn’t be happening if I did.

I was fucking tired of explaining myself to her or any other person who thinks I’m responsible for Catherine’s death. They can go ahead and think they want. Believe whatever bullshit they want. Goodness knows I’m innocent, and was only trying to save Catherine from her crazy self.

I bet her mother didn’t even know she had a mental illness that led to her doing what she did. Of course she won’t, I couldn’t help but brush out a scornful laugh. The only thing she was bent on was blaming me for her death without hearing my side of the story. Well, I hope that the detective lady tells her when she gets back to that place.

I gripped the envelope tightly, crumpling it in my hands. Not being invited to Catherine’s funeral was a relief. A heavy weight lifted off my chest. I couldn’t be more grateful, and the last thing I would ever think of doing is setting foot in her petty Kingdom. She could keep it for all I care. I was no longer interested.

I heard footsteps approaching. Turning and looking in the direction of the door, I saw the head maid making her way to me with a man following closely behind her. The man stood tall and sturdy with a weathered face, a worn baseball cap, a faded flannel shirt, jeans, and scuffed work boots, his keen eyes scanning the castle and taking in the opulence. He must be the truck driver.

Quickly and without them noticing, I stuffed the crumpled envelope in my pyjama pocket. I will dispose of it later. I stood up to welcome the man.

“He is the truck driver I was telling you about,” the head maid said as she introduced him. “As you said, he’s here to pick up Catherine’s stuff.”

I wore a smile and extended my hand for a handshake. “Welcome, it’s nice to have you.”

A bit hesitantly, he gripped it firmly and returned the smile, flashing a fence of teeth that was worn and yellowed probably from years of coffee and smoking, his weathered face wrinkling the more. “Thank you, my lord.”

“Please have a seat,” I gestured to one of the chairs at the dining table as I released my hand from his. “Have breakfast with me if you don’t mind.”

He made a face that showed he was caught off guard and couldn’t decide whether to accept or decline.

The head maid pulled out a seat for him and said. “Come on old man, he is just being a kind considerate king. Don’t say no to such an offer. You and I know you need all the energy you can get to drive all the stuff we are about to pack. And believe me when I say Catherine’s stuff weighs a ton.”

He looked at the head maid and laughed loudly in a way I found kind of awkward, mesmerized by her bluntness. I was mesmerized too, but didn’t show it the way he did.

Having no other choice, the old man reluctantly sat down and took off his baseball cap to reveal a receding wisp of grey hair.

“What would you like to have?” The head maid tilted her head to meet his face and asked with a smile.

The old man shrugged, feeling kind of flustered and indecisive. “Anything. It’s not like I have a choice.”

“Okay,” the head maid shrugged, not insisting or asking any further questions.

She turned her attention to me, “I will inform the other maids to start packing Catherine’s stuff immediately.” she said and dipped into a courteous bow.

I have told her countless times not to address me as King or Alpha Sebastian and to bow to me whenever we are having a conversation. It wasn’t necessary. But she just wouldn’t listen so I stopped insisting and accepted it as her way of showing respect.

I maintained a smile and gave her a firm nod before she turned and disappeared off to the kitchen.

I turned my attention to the truck driver and had a little chat with him. His actions showed he didn’t expect me to treat and welcome him the way I did. He was grateful.

I wondered if he read that letter before I got hold of it and had already been poisoned with the belief that I killed his mistress’s daughter.

Naturally, I shouldn’t have welcomed him the way I did. I should have just had him wait in the living room or his truck as the maids got Catherine’s things ready. Because he is from the territory of the person who has marked me as her enemy. But I wasn’t that kind of person. I believed in treating everyone with kindness and courtesy, regardless of their affiliations.

During our chat, I was surprised to find out he didn’t know anything that happened. He was just some random truck driver probably hired by someone close to Catherine’s mom to come pick up Catherine’s stuff and nothing else. He believes Catherine died a natural death. At least his mind hasn’t been poisoned. Maybe not yet.