Mated To The Crippled Alpha-Chapter 99: Safe Lies

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Chapter 99: Safe Lies

These were secrets no one had ever spoken out loud. Not even Elena’s own blood, the Morrigans, had known the truth. π™§π™šπ™šπ”€π’†π“«π“·π™€π“Ώπ’†π™‘.𝒄𝙀𝓢

Vivian, who had been standing so firmly beside Camilla earlier, had gone quiet. The sharp confidence she carried was gone, replaced with stiff silence. Camilla still looked calm on the surface, but I could see it in her eyes. That burning glare. The kind that promised payback. She wasn’t hiding her hatred anymore.

As for Julian... the tears in his eyes didn’t move me at all. He had always been weak. Always swayed by whoever spoke loudest. He never stood for truth, only for comfort. If he cried now, it was for himself, not for Elena.

The room was silent.

The same people who had cheered for Camilla earlier now sat frozen, eyes locked on me. No one interrupted. No one dared.

I took a slow breath and continued.

"Elena’s death was never simple," I said quietly. "There were questions from the start. But what shocked me most wasn’t how she died. It was what happened after."

The air felt heavier with every word.

"Someone took her paintings. Everything she left behind. Her work. Her soul. They sold it to the world and wore her name like a crown."

I turned to Camilla.

"She was your sister. Your own blood. How could you steal from her? How do you sleep at night knowing what you did?"

I already knew the answer.

Vivian stared at Camilla like she was seeing her for the first time. Even Camilla’s supporters looked unsure now.

"Camilla," Vivian asked softly, her voice shaking, "is this true?"

The story I told wasn’t vague. It was too detailed. Too real. Something in it struck deep. I saw doubt creep into Vivian’s eyes. She wanted to believe her daughter, but something inside her was pulling her attention toward me.

She turned to Camilla, desperate for an answer.

Camilla clutched her chest, her face pale. She looked at her mother, hurt lacing her voice.

"Mom... how can you trust her? I’m your daughter."

Her words trembled, but I heard the panic beneath them.

"She’s lying," Camilla snapped, turning toward me. "She made all of this up to destroy me!"

I tilted my head, calm and steady.

"Oh?" I asked. "Then tell us. Where are the lies?"

Camilla rushed her words. "You said Elena was depressed. How would you know that? You weren’t even here. Even our family didn’t know! And now you accuse me of stealing her work? That’s insane. Without proof, you’re just slandering me!"

Her control was slipping. I could feel it.

Vivian folded her arms, forcing her voice cold. "If my daughter was suffering, how could I not know? I’m her mother. None of us saw anything wrong."

I wasn’t surprised.

This was exactly where I wanted them.

I looked at Vivian calmly, my spine straight, my voice steady.

"Mrs. Morrigan, you’re defending your daughter so loudly. But do you really think your words still matter right now?"

Her jaw tightened. She lifted her hand sharply and called Malcom and the two Morrigan brothers over, like summoning backup. It was instinctive. When cornered, they gathered together, forming a wall, hoping numbers alone could intimidate.

Malcom stepped forward first. "When Elena was alive, she was perfectly fine. We never saw any signs that something was wrong with her."

One of the brothers sneered at me. "You’re just bitter. Throwing dirty accusations like they’re facts. How dare you smear Camilla’s name?"

The third brother’s voice rose, sharp and angry. "Elena is gone. Can’t you let her rest? Digging up the past like this only proves how heartless you are."

I almost smiled.

Keep talking, I thought. The louder you get now, the worse the fall will be.

Camilla, however, didn’t look relieved. She wasn’t smiling. Her brows were drawn tight, her eyes flicking toward me again and again. She felt it. That low pressure in the air. The sense that something was closing in on her. She knew she had stepped into a trap, even if she didn’t know how deep it went.

And I wasn’t letting her walk away this time.

I shifted my gaze past her and locked eyes with Julian.

"Mr. Hale," I said evenly, "you knew Elena since you were young. You were closer to her than anyone else here. If anyone’s words should carry weight, it’s yours. So tell everyone what was her state of mind before she died?"

The room stirred instantly.

All eyes turned to him.

Whispers rippled through the crowd like wind through tall grass.

"You were close to her, right?"

"She always seemed... heavy. Those paintings weren’t light."

"No one creates like that without pain behind it."

"I followed S for years. I just want the truth."

"Please, Mr. Hale. Tell us."

Julian froze.

I didn’t give him the chance to fade into the background. Not anymore.

He looked nothing like the man I once knew. His eyes darted, his posture stiff. He was trapped between telling the truth and protecting himself. And deep down, I knew the truth he either never noticed Elena’s pain, or he noticed and chose to look away.

Either way, his silence had nothing to do with protecting her.

I stared at him coldly. The tears he shed earlier now felt hollow.

"Well?" I pressed. "Do you need time to remember? Or did you simply never pay enough attention to know?"

He swallowed. He knew he couldn’t stay silent.

"Elena did have some rough moments," he said carefully. "She felt low sometimes. Overworked. Stressed. But everyone goes through that. It could’ve been a project, or personal issues. That doesn’t mean she was depressed. I think it was just a phase. Nothing serious."

It was a smooth answer.

Careful. Safe.

He didn’t deny it outright, but he refused to name it. He brushed her pain aside like something temporary. Something small.

And just like that, he stepped away from responsibility.

The Morrigans seized on it immediately.

"Exactly," one of them said. "Everyone has bad days."

"You’re exaggerating everything."

"So what if you won today?" another snapped. "Your attitude is disgraceful. You have none of the grace my daughter has."

The room grew noisy again. Judgment bounced from face to face. Some believed me. Some didn’t.

I didn’t move.

I stood there, steady, unshaken.

Then my eyes met Theo’s.

He gave me a short nod and walked forward, carrying a thin file in his hands.

Voices kept shouting. Insults flew my way. But I didn’t react.

"I truly feel sorry for Elena," I said slowly, my voice cutting through the noise. "She was hurting. She was drowning. And what hurts more than that is this her own family knew nothing."

I stepped forward, took the file from Theo, and tossed it toward the Morrigans.

The papers hit the floor with a sharp crack. The sound echoed through the room, sudden and heavy.

"Pick them up," I said quietly. "Read them out loud if you dare."

Silence fell.

"That’s Elena’s official diagnosis. You didn’t know?" I looked straight at Vivian. "Then maybe you didn’t love her the way you thought you did. Because if you had, you would’ve noticed. You would’ve looked closer."