Villainess Marked For Her Alpha-Chapter 59: Hellen Thinks That I Am Hiding Something from Her

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Chapter 59: Hellen Thinks That I Am Hiding Something from Her

Five days had passed since Reyes stormed into the mansion that shameful afternoon, taking charge with ruthless care—spoon-feeding me, helping my wrecked body, pinning me to bedrest when I dared twitch toward chores, her eyes brooking no argument as she fussed over every wince and sigh.

She did vanish the next morning with a gruff Text if you encounter any more problems, leaving my cheeks burning and limbs finally steady. Does she think I will call her for every problem that I face?

I was the one who booked her, wasn’t I? Besides, I was the one who told her to go home, she wanted to take care of me even after the booking period was over.

Now, I twisted my raven hair into a messy bun secured with a soft black scrunchie, strands escaping to frame my face as I leaned back in the office chair—emerald eyes scanning spreadsheets, full lips pursed thoughtful.

"What are you doing?" I asked, tilting my head curious, voice smooth and soft now that my throat had fully healed from that raw, scorched silence—forcing me to mime and text like some wounded animal.

"Nothing. But tell me—do you even understand the spreadsheets, Emily? You look like a lost animal."

I blushed, glaring at the blonde alpha in front of me. "Yes, I understand them very clearly!"

"So, why are you looking at as if it’s a piece of chocolate?"

"Can you keep your mouth shut?!" OG Emily’s memories helped me understand them perfectly. Besides, I had done my major in mathematics. So, yeah—I can understand them perfectly.

Hellen perched opposite at our cluttered desk in the cozy Helly Paws office—it was our new office—sunlight slanting gold through blinds onto stacks of files and yarn toys; her pen scratched quick across paper, brow furrowed under blonde waves, shooting me that weird, lingering look—half-curious, half-knowing.

"What happened to you? Why are you looking at me like that?"

Hellen glanced up from her scribbled notes, eyes narrowing playful-sharp under fringe of blonde waves, pen pausing mid-calculation. "Nothing, Emily. Just tallying our expenses for the month."

I nodded slow, fingers drumming a restless rhythm on the desk cluttered with adoption forms, yarn-chewed toys, and half-empty coffee mugs. "Oh. Hellen, are we finally launching the site for online customers today?"

She nodded, capping her pen with a dramatic flourish, leaning back in her creaky chair. "Well, today we officially make Helly Paws public. Yeah, I’ll handle the final tweaks, and push it live by noon."

"I believe in you," I said soft and earnest, reaching across the desk to squeeze her hand.

"Do you really?"

"Of course! How can you doubt on me?"

"Right," she snorted, ducking her head.

"What is with you today?" I snarled. Why the hell is she moody today?

Hellen gave me an unreadable look. "Are you hiding something from me?"

"What?" What the hell will hide something from her?

"So, you are not?"

"Of course, not! What made you think that I am hiding something from you?"

"Nothing. I was just asking."

Okay, she is really, really moody today.

The office hummed with the low drone of the AC unit, sunlight slanting gold through half-closed blinds, but sweat still beaded my nape, raven bun loosening stray tendrils to curl damp against olive skin. "Lower the temperature—it’s a sauna in here."

"No, please?" Hellen asked theatrically, fanning herself with a stack of flyers, blonde ponytail swinging.

"Please lower the temperature," I echoed, batting my lashes exaggerated pouty, emerald eyes wide imploring.

She rolled her eyes heavenward but thumbed the wall remote anyway—cool air sighing blessed from overhead vents, goosebumps prickling my arms in relief. "Happy now, princess? You and your delicate constitution."

"Why are you acting like a bully today? You are bullying me!"

"Bully? Emily, what do you think of me?" she asked then, voice casual but edged curious, leaning elbows on the desk to close the space, gaze searching mine too long, too intent. 𝒻𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝘯𝘰𝑣ℯ𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝘮

"You’re my best friend," I replied instantly, smile genuine and bright—Hellen was really best friend.

"Best friend? Just that?" Her tone dipped teasing-laced, something vulnerable flickering behind the bravado, eyes holding mine like she was fishing for more.

"What else are you expecting?" I laughed light, deflecting the sudden weight with a playful shoulder nudge. Honestly, I am starting to feel something different whenever I was with Hellen.

"Nothing." She grabbed her dented stainless water bottle, gulping deep—throat working smooth, stray droplets tracing her collarbone down into the magenta shirt of hers, exhaling sharp as she set it down.

"Are you hiding something from me?" Hellen pressed gently.

I shook my head quick, forcing a casual shrug despite the flutter in my chest. "Nothing. Why are you repeating the same question again?"

"Just like that."

Suddenly, the office door banged open, admitting a striking woman with chocolate-kissed skin glowing warm under the fluorescent hum—mature poise radiating in her mid-forties frame, sharp cheekbones framed by sleek locs pulled into a professional twist, wire-rimmed specs perched low on her nose magnifying dark eyes that snapped with impatience.

She strode in on heels clicking authoritative against linoleum, designer blouse tailored crisp over curves, clipboard clutched like a weapon. "Hellen, you told me I’d get my model at the end of the day, and now I’m getting angry—deadlines don’t bend for promises."

Hellen shot upright from her chair, hands placating, blonde ponytail bobbing frantic. "Olle, you will get your model, don’t worry—I am just finalizing some fits."

"I need the model now, Hellen," Olle snapped, voice rich contralto edged steel, pacing closer to the desk strewn with fabric swatches and pet sweater prototypes. "We need photos for the magazine spread—Paws & Couture won’t wait while you fuss over hems."

Hellen exhaled steady, palms up. "I will. Give me some time to get her prepped—hair, makeup, the works."

"Time? We have no time," Olle retorted, whirling mid-stride—then froze, dark gaze locking sharp on me where I sat frozen mid-sip of water, raven bun slightly askew, emerald eyes wide over the rim of my mug.

"Hello..." I waved at her.

Her head tilted assessing, specs glinting as she raked me head-to-to. "Who are you?"

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