CHAPTER 72: WHAT’S THE PLAN

Eleanor’s POV

The moment we entered the privacy of the apartment at the Queen’s estate, Mira and Roxy descended on me. The golden 5pm light streaming through the windows did nothing to soften the intensity in their eyes.

I’d given them every detail of how i found out that the triplets were my mate. I’d told them everything, except for the one moment that felt like a stolen secret: finding Kayden in a vulnerable position, his pain a raw, palpable thing I couldn’t understand but had felt in my own soul.

Roxy, sprawled on the plush couch like a contented cat, was the first to break the silence.

"So what you want," she said, her gaze sharpening, "is ideas on how to reject the triplets." She shook her head, a faint, incredulous smile on her lips. "Won’t that be phenomenally awkward? You work for them."

"The contract is only for two years," I said, clinging to the clause like a life raft. "I can manage two years. I’ll just... keep my head down and do my job."

Mira, seated beside me on the sofa, turned to face me. She placed a gentle hand on my knee. "Ellie," she said, her voice soft but unbearably direct. "Do you truly think you’ll be able to manage the tension for that long?"

I opened my mouth to insist that I could, but the lie withered before it was born.

I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t sure at all. How could I be, when my own wolf was a fifth column in my blood, whispering of ruin and exquisite surrender?

"It won’t be that hard," I said, the words feeling flimsy even to my own ears. I focused on a loose thread on the cuff of my sleeve, twisting it around my finger. "They have a... a type. It’s obviously Scarlet." I was trying to convince myself as much as them, building a logical case to wall off the chaotic emotions churning inside me.

Roxy let out a short, sharp laugh. "If it was that simple, they’d have shoved you out the door already, sweetheart." She swung her legs off the couch and leaned forward, her elbows on her knees. "There’s a reason they haven’t. If it was just about getting rid of you, it would be done. So the fact that you’re still here, that this ’rejection’ hasn’t happened, means there’s another reason. It’s probably not hard for them to reject a fake; the hard part seems to be rejecting you."

Mira’s hand tightened slightly on my knee. "Roxy, were you even listening? The problem isn’t just them thinking she’s a deceit. The problem is what happens if they stop thinking that." She turned her intense gaze back to me. "Eleanor said if they find out she’s their real fated mate, they won’t let her go. They’ll keep her. And that’s the outcome she’s trying to avoid."

"Right, a real tragedy," Roxy drawled, a wicked glint in her eye. "Being kept by three obscenely powerful, gorgeous men. A whole lot of women—and by a whole lot, I mean every dark romance reader on the planet—would literally kill to be in your position."

Mira shot her a look that could freeze lava.

Roxy raised her hands in mock surrender. "Fine, fine. I’m just saying, it’s a perspective."

Then I recalled something. "Mira," I started, my voice hesitant. "Is it... is it possible for them to have two mates? Two fated mates?"

Mira’s brow furrowed in thought. "I’ve never heard of that. Not in the true sense. The only way a shifter can have more than one mate is if they take a chosen mate later. But that’s a conscious choice, a bond of will, not destiny." She explained gently, "A fated mate is the one the Moon Goddess decides for you. A chosen mate is the one you decide for yourself. But in this case... it seems both you and Miss Scarlet are being presented as their fated mates. That’s the core of the problem."

"But Eleanor doesn’t have the balls to be deceitful on this level. So logic dictates that maybe Scarlet is the fake." Roxy interjected.

"Don’t start jumping to conclusions," Mira warned, her tone leaving no room for argument. She looked between us, her expression turning deeply contemplative. "We don’t have all the facts. It could be that we’re dealing with something rare. A situation the rules don’t account for."

Mira let out a slow breath, her strategic mind visibly shifting gears. "Alright, enough speculation. What we need is a plan. A way to make the triplets want to reject the bond. Any ideas?"

Silence filled the room, thick and heavy with the weight of the impossible. Then, Roxy slowly raised her hand, a dangerous smirk playing on her lips.

Mira sighed, the sound full of foreboding. "What is it, Roxy?"

"Those pricks," Roxy stated. "They’re all about control, right? Power, dominance, perfection. They won’t tolerate a mate who’s... wild. Unpredictable." Her eyes locked onto me. "So, you become exactly that."

My heart stuttered. "Wild? I... I don’t know what kind of wild you’re referring to, and if it’s what I think you mean, I won’t do that." The very thought of deliberately causing a scene made my skin crawl.

Roxy barked a laugh. "Chill, good girl. I’m not telling you to strip and start seducing random men. Besides," she added with a wicked grin, "the day I see Eleanor Moore do something genuinely, scandalously wild is the day I join a nunnery and take a vow of celibacy."

Mira, surprisingly, nodded. "She has a point. Not the ’wild’ you’re imagining, Eleanor. But we need to present a version of you that is fundamentally incompatible with their world." Her eyes lit up as she recalled something. "The club. We could go to Sins and Cinnamon."

She turned to me with a cheesy, knowing smile. "You remember what happened last time we were there, don’t you?"

A hot flush crept up my neck. "I am not getting danced on by masked men again in front of a lust-cheering crowd." The memory was seared into my brain, a confusing mix of humiliation and a thrilling, forbidden liberation.

"Who said anything about dancing?" Mira countered, her tone soothing yet firm. "We just go. We sit. We let ourselves be seen in a place where powerful, territorial men would never want their fated mate to be seen. The Vexxons would never accept a woman they believe has been tainted, who frequents a den of hedonism. The mere implication would be enough. They’d reject you on the spot."

I turned the idea over in my mind, examining it from every anxious angle. It was a subtle performance, a lie told not with words, but with presence.

I wouldn’t have to do anything but exist in a space they deemed unacceptable. It was... plausible.

"It... makes sense," I admitted softly, the quiet resignation in my voice a stark contrast to the roaring of my own traitorous heart.

Ooh, you agreed! Beatrice’s voice was a scandalized, gleeful shriek in my mind."Is it because you’re itching to see those male strippers again, huh? The ones who had you squirming on that stage, grinding their hard, sweat-slick bodies against you until you were dripping with desire? Admit it, you just want them to wreck you all over again, don’t you? You want their cocks pounding into you, their hands bruising your skin, their mouths devouring every inch of you until you’re screaming for more. Go on, say it—you’re begging for a repeat performance!"

Beatrice, for the love of the Moon, shut up, I thought back, my mental voice strained as a fresh wave of heat flooded my cheeks.

"We could even go tonight," Mira declared, her eyes alight with a sudden, fierce energy. "The sooner, the better." She snatched her phone from the table, her thumbs flying across the screen. After a moment, she let out a frustrated huff. "Sold out. I always forget how women will buy tickets to the last seat just to watch a bunch of—"

"Have you forgotten I used to tend bar there?" Roxy cut in, a slow, cunning smile spreading across her face. "I can get us in. No tickets needed."

"Perfect! That’s brilliant, Roxy." Mira clapped her hands together, her gaze swinging back to me with unnerving intensity. "And I am going to dress you."

The way she said it made my stomach flutter with nerves. "You seem... too happy about this," I murmured.

"Why wouldn’t I be?" Mira grinned. "I get to orchestrate the downfall of your mating bond and finally see these legendary male strippers who made you swoon. It’s a win-win."

I dropped my head into my hands with a quiet groan. Goddess help me. I was never, ever going to hear the end of this.