CHAPTER 77: CONFRONTATION

Eleanor’s POV

The world was a blurry, swaying mess in the back of the taxi. The streetlights smeared into golden lines outside the window, and every bump in the road sent a fresh wave of dizziness through me. To my left and right, Mira and Roxy were a cacophony of questions and slurred words, their voices piling on top of each other until I could barely think.

"I swear," Roxy growled, her words thick and unhinged, "if I’d gotten my hands on that slimy bastard who grabbed you, I would’ve rearranged his face until his own mother wouldn’t recognize him! I would’ve used his spine as a backscratcher!"

The taxi driver’s wide eyes flicked to us in the rearview mirror.

"Roxy, shhh!" Mira hissed, patting her arm clumsily. "I told you, violence isn’t always the answer."

"It is my answer!" Roxy retorted, then slumped back against the seat. "But fine. You said we’d get banned. And security did handle it... eventually." She turned her bleary gaze back to me. "But seriously, Ellie, what happened after? Those VIP guys... the ones all the women were screaming for... they took you. Did you talk to them?"

The question cut through the alcoholic fog. I nodded, my own head feeling too heavy. "I did."

The effect was instantaneous. Both of them snapped to attention, their drunkenness forgotten for a moment.

"And?" Mira prompted, her voice a high-pitched squeak of anticipation.

"They... they said they’ve been thinking about me. Since the first time. And they... they want me to come back."

Mira let out a squeal so loud I was sure the driver jumped. She clapped her hands together. "I knew it! I knew they were into you!"

Roxy, meanwhile, threw her head back and let out a triumphant roar. "YES! That’s my girl! You’re gonna get railed! Properly! By three of them!"

I sank lower into my seat, my face burning, half from embarrassment and half from a thrilling, terrifying excitement that even the vodka couldn’t drown out.

"You shouldn’t say it like that," I mumbled, my cheeks on fire. "And I’m not getting... that. They just agreed to help with my plan. So the Vexxon triplets will finally reject me."

"That’s good!" Mira chirped, swaying slightly in her seat. "Then you’ll be free to be with the men you actually want to be with!"

I didn’t answer. Of course, a part of me wanted to keep feeling that electric thrill I felt with the masked men. But anything more than that? It can’t be possible. The only thing she and those men want from each other is just pleasure.

The taxi jolted to a stop. "We’re here," the driver announced, his voice tense. "The Vexxon estate gate."

Roxy practically fell out of the car. I fumbled for some cash, thanked the driver, and stumbled out after her, closing the door carefully.

"Are you two going to be okay getting home?" I asked, watching them lean on each other for support.

"We’ll be fiiine," Mira slurred, waving a dismissive hand. "Go on! Your CEOs are waiting!"

I waved back, my heart thudding unevenly as I watched the taxi drive off until its taillights disappeared. Taking a deep breath, I turned and walked toward the imposing gate. The security guard recognized me immediately and buzzed me in without a word. I focused very hard on walking in a straight line, my heels clicking on the pavement.

You enjoyed yourself tonight, Beatrice noted, her voice a soft hum in my mind.

Aren’t you still upset that I’m trying to get our fated mates to reject us? I thought back, bracing for her usual argument.

Yeah,

she admitted, surprisingly calm. But I’m not going to push it anymore.

Her sudden surrender felt... suspicious. There was a hidden meaning there, I was sure of it. Beatrice never gave up so easily.

My swirling thoughts were cut off by a familiar, dignified voice. "Miss Eleanor."

I looked up to see Sir Alfred standing by the front door, his posture as rigid as ever. "I was beginning to worry you would not return tonight."

I offered him a small, tired smile. "If I didn’t, Sir Alfred, I have a feeling the brothers would find a way to bring me back themselves."

Alfred gave a small, knowing smile and gently guided me inside. I desperately hoped I could just slip upstairs and avoid the triplets entirely.

But his next words dashed that hope to pieces. "The young masters returned earlier in a state of considerable agitation," he said, his voice low. "Might I inquire if something transpired this evening?"

So they’d already heard. Good. That was the plan, after all. "I just went out to a club with my friends," I said, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Indeed. They have instructed me to bring you to them the moment you returned." He didn’t wait for an argument, simply turned and led the way. I had no choice but to follow.

We walked up the grand staircase and down the long, opulent hallway. My heart hammered against my ribs with every step. He stopped in front of a door and knocked softly.

The door was yanked open almost immediately. Kayden stood there, his expression darkening the second his eyes landed on me. This was the reaction I wanted—the disgust, the anger. So why did the sight of his frown feel like a physical blow?

Alfred gently ushered me inside, and Kayden stepped aside, his silent presence somehow more intimidating than any word. My eyes swept the room. Kieran was perched on the edge of a large desk, his usual charming smile nowhere to be seen. And Keith sat in a high-backed chair, his gaze a cold, heavy weight. All three of them were staring me down, their faces etched with identical scowls.

A wave of panic washed over me. I shouldn’t be here alone with them. But Alfred was already gone, the door clicking shut behind him, sealing me in.

I gulped.

Maybe it was better this way. Getting it over with sooner, even if my knees felt weak. The sooner they showed their disgust, the sooner I could be free. Right?

Keith’s voice cut through the tense silence. "Where are you coming from?"

I met his gaze, hoping the slight buzz from the alcohol made me look more nonchalant than I felt. "I was at a club," I said, lifting my chin a fraction. "I’m not a child you need to monitor. I’m not going to run away."

His icy eyes swept over me, from my face down to the short dress Mira had forced me into. I suddenly felt hyper-aware of the thin straps on my shoulders and the way the underwire hugged my chest. I sent a silent prayer to the universe that the straps would stay put, unlike that one terrifying moment at the club.

Then Kieran stood up. He didn’t move quickly, but his approach was deliberate, a predator closing in.

I instinctively stepped back until my shoulders hit the solid wood of the door. His famous charming smile was back, and it set every one of my nerves on edge. I didn’t trust it, even as a part of me was drawn to its enticing pull. No wonder women lost their minds over him.

He stopped just in front of me, the scent of his cologne mixing with the smell of alcohol. "Why," he asked, his voice a blend of clear annoyance and a strange, unsettling glee, "would you go to a club, when you know you have fated mates?"

"I don’t regard you as my mates." I lied, the words tasting bitter. "And since you clearly want me out of your hair, I have the right to be free! The bond doesn’t mean anything to any of us, so why don’t you just reject me and be done with it."

I coughed, trying to clear the tightness in my throat, and forced the final, damning words out. "I, Eleanor Moore, daughter of the Moore family, reject you all as my mates!"

A searing, white-hot pain exploded in my chest, so sudden and vicious that my legs gave out. I crumpled to the floor, a gasp tearing from my lips.

Through a blur of tears, I saw I wasn’t the only one. Keith had braced himself against his chair, his face a mask of agony. Kieran was on his knees, and even Kayden was hunched over, one hand clutching his chest.

What’s happening?

You foolish girl, Beatrice snarled in my mind, her voice strained. Did you think it would be so easy to destroy a bond the Moon Goddess forged? Breaking it comes with a price. And this pain is nothing compared to what you’ll feel if they accept your rejection.

What? It could get worse? This agony felt like my soul was being ripped in two. I couldn’t breathe.

"I take it back!" I choked out, the words a ragged whisper. "I take back the declaration!"

I didn’t know if it would change anything. The world was already tilting, the edges of my vision turning black. The last thing I heard was a voice, laced with pain and dark promise, "You won’t get rid of us that easily. We will never accept your rejection."

Was that good or bad? In that moment, as I slipped into the welcoming darkness, I didn’t have the capacity to care.