Chapter 47: A Purer Kind Of Scheme

I walk out of the Kael building, my stride calm, my shoulders free of their usual tension.

Because from now on, Zyke won’t bully me.

Maybe—

I hope.

Deniz walks a half-step behind me, a model of calm discipline. I glance over my shoulder. His eyes are downcast. Is he still angry with me?

The guards bow slightly as we pass through the main doors. The night’s chilling air hits my face, sharp and bracing. I stop suddenly on the top step.

Deniz stops just behind me, a beat later. “What happened?” he asks, his voice carefully neutral.

I turn and step closer to him. He takes a subtle half-step back, a flicker of hesitation in his posture.

“Are you mad at me?” The question comes out softer than I intended, tinged with a worry I can’t hide.

He blinks, then quickly shakes his head. “No. Why would I be mad?”

My face must look like that of a scolded child, all uncertain eyes and vulnerable frown.

“Then why are you ignoring me?”

He looks at me, and for a moment, the professional mask slips. I see genuine fatigue in the slight tightness around his eyes.

“I’m not mad,” he says, his voice lower. “I’m just… tired.”

I search his face. Is that all? “Is that so?”

He nods.

A small wave of relief washes through me. I let a soft smile touch my lips. “Okay. Then… let’s eat dinner together. We can go somewhere quiet.”

He hesitates. The pause is a mere second, but it feels like an eternity. “I’m sorry,” he says, not quite meeting my eyes. “I have plans.”

I go very still. Plans. The word echoes in the hollow space between us. Don’t tell me… he has a boyfriend.

An Omega…?

Or maybe… an Alpha…?

A sharp, hot pinch twists behind my ribs.

I look down at the frost-kissed concrete, suddenly unsure of what to say. Should I ask him? No, Neon. Don’t. You’ve pushed enough today. You don’t want to make him more uncomfortable.

I force myself to look up, to paste that soft smile back on my face. It feels brittle. “Then… good night, Deniz.”

He nods, his own expression unreadable. “Good night, sir.”

I turn and walk to the waiting car. The driver opens the door with a silent nod. I slip into the plush backseat, the heavy door closing with a muffled thud that seals me in silence.

The soft smile I manufactured for him vanishes instantly.

I don’t know where he’s going.

As the car pulls away from the curb, I catch one last glimpse of him in the side mirror—still standing beneath the porte-cochère light, eyes on his phone.

Waiting for someone.

Not me.

The car rolls forward, and his figure shrinks, then disappears.

I lean back against the leather seat, close my eyes, and take a long, shaky breath that does nothing to steady me.

Neon, don’t overthink. Maybe he has urgent work.

A family— thing.

A friend— in need.

But my fists are clenched tight on my lap, knuckles white, nails digging half-moons into my palms. The cool confidence I wielded against Zyke is gone, melted away by the simple, devastating power of two words: I have plans.

The car door opens, letting in a slice of cold night air and a hesitant voice.

“Young Master…?”

I slowly open my eyes, disoriented. We’re already at the mansion. The driver peers in, concern etched across his face. “Young Master, are you alright?”

I nod, swallowing the dryness in my throat. “Yeah. I’m fine.” I straighten, rubbing the lingering heaviness from my eyes. I don’t even remember nodding off—only the sadness, heavy enough to pull me under.

I adjust my coat and step out of the car. As always, the servants bow and murmur their greetings. The Kael Mansion looms ahead, its windows gleaming coldly in the night—a monument of perfect, lonely opulence. I start walking, Deniz’s I have plans still sitting like a stone in my stomach.

Then my gaze shifts.

I stop—

Angel stands near the side entrance, as if waiting for the commotion to pass. He bows lightly, graceful despite everything.

“Good evening, Young Master.”

For the first time since leaving the office, a soft, genuine smile finds its way to my lips. “Good evening, Angel.”

My eyes roam over him without thinking. He looks fine… but thinner. He’s lost weight.

Of course he is. After surviving a dangerous heat alone, locked in that small room—who would come out untouched? The novel’s details surface uninvited: Angel. Thirty-one. Ten years older than Zyren. An Omega who has never allowed an Alpha’s claim.

An Omega whose body cries out for an Alpha, yet whose will refuses all of them—so stubborn he even rejected the richest man in the country.

The original, cruel Zyren Kael.

I stare a beat too long, seeing not just a servant, but a character trapped in a lonely, painful storyline.

Angel blinks, confusion softening his features. “Young Master?”

I blink back to the present, my smile warming. “Hmm?”

“Master Zyke and Mrs. Zyke are waiting for you at dinner,” he says gently.

“Right.”

I nod.

Then—

I look back at him.

“Angel… how are you feeling now?”

He lowers his gaze, a faint, humble smile touching his lips.”I’m much better. Thank you for the suppressants.”

“That’s good,” I say quietly, and mean it. Seeing him safe eases something tight in my chest. “I’m happy you’re feeling okay.”

He nods, gratitude passing silently between us.

I walk toward the dining hall, the soft smile lingering. My thoughts drift away from everything.

They turn toward the future—one I might be able to rewrite.

Soon, I promise silently, resolve settling in despite my own disappointments.

Soon, you won’t need suppressants. I’ll find him. I’ll bring your true male lead here—the one who will love you fiercely, cherish you completely. The one who deserves you.

And you two will fall in love. And you will live, finally, happily.

It’s a gentler plan. A purer kind of scheme.

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