Chapter 34

Lauren's POV

The news was on in the background, the chatter of the anchors blending with the occasional giggle from Abigail as she colored on the living room floor. I had half an ear on the TV, more focused on sorting through the mountain of laundry I’d been ignoring for days. But then a familiar name caught my attention.

“Sophia made waves at last night’s gala,” the anchor announced, her tone dripping with the kind of intrigue that only came with high-profile scandals.

I froze, my hand hovering over a mismatched sock. On the screen, Sophia’s perfect smile gleamed under the harsh glare of paparazzi lights as she stood on some extravagant garden stage.

“And in a surprising turn of events,” the anchor continued, “she introduced her stepson, Owen, as her and Alexander’s son, sparking speculation about the future of the Alpha family. Could wedding bellsfinally be on the horizon?”

My stomach dropped.

“Mommy, look!” Abigail said, holding up a crayon drawing of what looked like a castle.

“Just a second, sweetheart,” I murmured, my eyes glued to the screen.

The camera panned to Alexander, standing stiffly in the crowd. He looked… trapped. Uncomfortable. His jaw was clenched, his gaze fixed on Sophia as she delivered her speech with all the polish of someone who lived for the spotlight.

And then there was Owen, standing beside her, looking small and out of place in a suit that probably cost more than my monthly rent. His expression was carefully blank, but I knew that look. I’d seen it before in that hospital room.

He was miserable.

“Mommy?” Abigail tugged at my sleeve, her little brow furrowed.

“Sorry, honey.” I turned the TV off and forced a smile. “What’s up?”

She held up her drawing again, her eyes sparkling. “It’s for you!”

“It’s beautiful, love.” I scooped her up and kissed her cheek, but my mind was elsewhere. What was Sophia doing? And why was Owen a part of it, up there with her?

The knock on the door startled me out of my thoughts. I set Abigail down and headed to the door, my heart pounding, still trying to process what I’ve seen.

A wedding… Not that it was my business or problem.

When I opened the door, I wasn’t ready for the small body in a suit infront of me, on I had just seen moments ago on the screen.

Owen.

He stood on the porch, pale and trembling, his tear-streaked face framed by dark hair that mirrored Alexander’s to perfection. His wide, stormy eyes met mine, brimming with a desperation that hit me like a punch to the chest.

“Dcotor,” he croaked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Oh my God. Owen.” I stepped aside, pulling him inside without a second thought. “What happened? Are you okay?”

He shook his head, and the tears spilled over.

“Come here,” I said, wrapping my arms around him. He collapsed against me, his small body shaking with sobs.

Abigail peeked around the corner, her eyes wide. “Owen?”

“It’s okay, sweetie,” I said, my voice steady even though my heart was breaking. “Owen’s just having a hard day.”

She nodded and retreated back to her crayons, sensing this was maybe a grown-up problem. For now.

I led Owen to the couch and sat him down, keeping my hand on his shoulder. “Talk to me, kiddo. What’s going on? Did you run away again? Should I call—”

I stopped short. I’d seen him upset before—sometimes with that mix of defiance and triumph he wore after successfully running away, his face distraught but still smug, like he knew exactly what he was doing, even for someone so young.

But now? Now he just looked… defeated.

For a moment, he just stared at the floor, his breaths coming in uneven gasps. Then, slowly, he began to speak.

“Sophia,” he said, his voice shaking. “She… she’s awful. A horrible mom. She—she threatened me.”

“What?” I leaned forward, my heart pounding.

“She said if I didn’t do what she wanted, she’d…” His voice cracked, and he buried his face in his little hands.

“Take your time,” I said softly, trying to keep the anger boiling inside me from showing.

“She said she’d make Abigail disappear.”

The room went silent.

“She what?” I whispered, my voice low and dangerous.

He looked up at me, his eyes red and swollen. “She said she could make her disappear without a trace. She wanted me to… to go to that stupid gala and smile and pretend like everything was fine. Like we were a…family.”

My hands clenched into fists. I could barely breathe, the rage bubbling up inside me threatening to explode.

“Owen, I’m so sorry,” I said, my voice trembling. “You shouldn’t have to deal with this. None of this is your fault.”

He nodded, his shoulders slumping. “She’s been like this for years. Ever since she married Dad. She only cares about herself. She doesn’t even like me. She just uses me when it makes her look good.”

I felt sick.

“And Dad… he doesn’t do anything about it,” Owen continued. “He just lets her. He doesn’t care either.”

“That’s not true,” I said gently. “Your dad loves you, Owen. He’s just… he’s complicated.”

“He’s a coward,” Owen muttered.

I didn’t have an argument for that.

Abigail wandered back into the room, her drawing in hand. She climbed onto the couch and handed it to Owen.

“Here,” she said. “This is for you.”

Owen took the drawing, his lip trembling. “Thanks…Abby.”

“You’re sad,” she said matter-of-factly. “Don’t be sad. You can stay here with us.”

Owen looked at me, his eyes pleading. “Can I?”

“Of course you can,” I said without hesitation. “You’re always welcome here.”

For the first time that night, he smiled.

“Lauren?” he said after a long pause.

“Yeah?”

“Can you… can you be my mom?”

The question hit me like a punch to the gut.

“I mean, not like… not like replace Dad,” he said quickly, his face turning red. “But like… someone who actually cares. Someone who doesn’t just… use me.”

I felt tears sting my eyes. “Owen, you don’t have to ask me that. You already feel like family to me.”

He nodded, his shoulders relaxing a little. “Thanks.”

I pulled him into another hug, holding him tight. “You’re safe here,” I said. “I promise. And I won’t let Sophia hurt you. Or Abigail. Ever.”

He nodded against my shoulder, and for the first time since he’d walked through the door, I felt like he believed me.

But that belief didn’t extinguish the fire burning just beneath the surface—the quiet rage simmering just next to his tear-streaked eyes. My own fury bubbled up, scorching and relentless, my gaze boring a hole into the wall behind us.

Threatening a child. Her own, no less. But to drag Abigail into her sick, manipulative games? To even think about harming a hair on my daughter’s head? It made my blood run cold and hot all at once. If she dared to continue involving us in her petty, vile schemes, I would make certain she met her end as swiftly as the version of me she buried years ago.

I had endured more than my share of Sophia’s cruelty, her venomous words and self-serving games. But if she ever laid a hand on these mere pups—on Owen, on Abigail—I would rain down hell itself.

And Alexander… what are you doing? Standing there like a coward while she wreaks havoc on everyone around her?

Maybe he really hasn’t changed.