Watch Me Win Alpha (Olivia and Ethan) novel Chapter 82

Chapter 82

“Shut up!” she screamed, voice cracking. “You think you know

everything! You’re just a manipulative little bitch!”

“I don’t have to know everything,” I said, “I just have to know

him.”

She screamed again and slapped me, hard enough to make my

head whip sideways.

Pain burst through my skull, but I forced myself not to cry out. I

was shaking inside, but I couldn’t afford to look weak.

“You think you’re smart?” she hissed. “You think that smug little

mouth of yours will save you?”

I didn’t reply.

Chole gritted her teeth. “He told me–he said I was his peace.

That he needed me. We’ve been together so many times behind

your back. He touched me the same way he touched you. More

passionately, even.”

“I believe you,” I said flatly.

She blinked.

Chapter 82

“I believe he touched you,” I clarified. “But I also believe he

would’ve moved on completely if you hadn’t staged that press

stunt. That hospital act. What was next, Chole? A wedding dress

and a priest?”

Her face flushed. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“No,” I said, “but I do know that this–tying me up, threatening to

mutilate me–that’s not love. That’s obsession. And obsession

never ends well.”

Chole’s hands shook. Her eyes flickered toward the door.

isn’t

I pressed the advantage. “He’s with the Green Group now,

he? Do you really think Alexander–Alpha Alexander–will stay

quiet if I go missing? You know his power. He won’t stop. He’ll

trace this to the source. And you’ll take the fall.”

“I’ll be gone by then,” she snapped, though her voice lacked its

earlier fire. “I’ll disappear.”

“Disappear into what?” I asked quietly. “You’re not a ghost,

Chole. You’re a Windsor. You think Alexander or the police or

Gai won’t know where to find you?”

“I’ll deal with it!” she screamed.

“No,” came a voice from behind the door. “You won’t.”

It was male. Rough. Older.

Chapter 82

Chole froze.

“Just end her already” the man said from the hallway. “You’ve

dragged it too long. She’s a liability. Do it.”

Chole looked back at me. Her hands trembled, and for a second,

I thought I saw fear in her eyes.

Not for me.

For herself.

I stayed quiet. Blood trickled down my jaw, soaking the collar of

my shirt. I didn’t move. My wrists were raw from the duct tape.

Yve was silent inside me, but I felt her stir faintly, as if

struggling against the wolfsbane.

Olivia’s POV

Chole’s voice dripped with triumph as she raised the lighter, her

eyes glittering in the dim light. “I’ve written your suicide note,”

Chapter 82

Her expression softened unnaturally. “Because you took him away from me. You destroyed our life.” She flicked the lighter again, studying the flame. “This will end everything.”

A sudden crackle as she flung the lighter at me. My heart

lurched–I flinched, trying to push away, but the drugs coursing

through me blurred my reflexes. I coughed, struggling to rise,

but failed, slipping deeper into helplessness.

The lighter landed near my arm–heat flashed. I scrambled,

desperate to roll away. But all I felt was a wave of dizziness.

Then, out of nowhere, Alexander’s hand shot in and snatched

the lighter mid–air. “Stop!” he roared.

Chole whirled around, fury snapping across her features. In her

blind rage, she brandished the knife she’d hidden up her sleeve

and lunged.

“Olivia!” Alexander shoved me aside–recklessly, instinctively.

The blade caught him in the back as he reflected Chole’s blow.

Blood blossomed on his shirt. But he didn’t recoil. He tightened

his grip and shoved Chole, forcing her back into a defensive

crouch. With a single, fluid motion, he twisted her arm,

knocked the knife away, and bound her wrists with electrical

wire salvaged from a lamp. His face was calm–cold, even-

every inch the Alpha protecting his Luna.

I pressed a trembling hand against his chest, breathing him in- sweat, adrenaline, warmth. I’d grabbed his shirt earlier in panic,

and that haven of fabric was still soothing.

Within seconds, the front door burst open. Ethan stormed in, eyes wild. Behind him: Ava, panting, phone in hand. Then flashing lights–red and blue–flooded the entrance. Two police officers stood aghast at the mayhem–gasoline–slick floors, furniture charred, blood pooling on Alexander’s back.

One officer rushed to me. “Ms. Hawthorne? Are you okay?”

I shook my head against the drugs still in my veins. “A bit… but

Alexander–he’s hurt.”