Watch Me Win, Alpha

Chole charged at me, eyes wild, as if I were her prize. But I didn’t

meet her halfway. I raised a single hand, palm outward, and she

halted about three meters off, confusion flickering in her

flushed cheeks.

“You fucking stay back,” I hissed. It came out harsher than I

intended.

A tumble of words rushed around me–my parents whispering, aunts gasping–but I ignored them all. I stepped right past Chole into the heart of the room, illuminating the tension like a

spotlight.

“Amelia,” I snapped, voice trembling yet anchored in controlled fury, “what in God’s name made you go public with those lies

against Olivia?”

Amelia, cool and composed in her tailored suit, brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. She raised a single eyebrow. “Because Chole deserves her name cleared, and… frankly, this was for the good

of everyone.”

“For the good of who?” I spat. “You drag Olivia’s reputation through mud, manufacture evidence–fabricated messag staged photos–and you call it ‘for the good“?”

Chapter 70

“Ethan,” Bob intervened softly, stepping between us. “Emotions

are running high-

I cut him off. “They’ve destroyedherlife, Dad”

Madeline shot me a furious look. “Then so be it! We lost

everything–respect, standing. There are whispers now. What are you going to tell your friends? What about family legacy?”

to tell them the truth. She’s innocent. I married her,

theater!”

Chole blinked and shrunk

in her eyes.

“You’re either with us or with her.

deserve loyalty.”

shoulders.

with frustration. “Ethan, you’re making things worse, man. She’s your wife… but you don’t know what this is doing to us. It’s too late. She’s probably moved on.

can repair!“‘

at his words. “Moved on?” I echoed.

Chapter 70

pressed on, voice low. “You’re being irresponsible. You oweallof us an explanation. You’re our blood, brother. But

with Olivia, leave us behind,thenlet her

public scandal?”

She’s family–I married her; she’s been there for me when… when we

have blood on my

felt my voice crack. “You think I

choose this?”

again. Even Amelia, the so–called architect of

statement, looked uneasy.

“Honesty, Ethan. You need to own what you’ve done–if it was a mistake, say so.

reputation,” I said quietly, voice firm despite

table, straightened my spine,

in

said coldly. “But I’m still open t

separate from personal matters.”

The room turned ice–cold.

hissed, her wine glass trembling

her fingers.

what I said,” I replied,

on a

Windsor

Chole, humiliate our