Mated by Contract to the Alpha Chapter 34

Rebecca's POV

I forced myself to meet his gaze, though it took every ounce of courage I possessed. His blue eyes were darker than usual, intense with an emotion that made my chest tighten. My mind raced to find the right words, ones that would make him understand without making him angrier.

"I didn't want to see him," I began, my voice small and uneven. "But he threatened to hurt Jason... My brother owes him gambling money."

Dominic's jaw clenched, a muscle ticking at his temple. "You've disobeyed me. Twice. Why didn't you contact me immediately?"

The accusation stung, even though I knew it was justified. I'd made a promise, and I'd broken it. Heat rose to my cheeks, partly from shame, partly from a flicker of defiance.

"I didn't want to use you again," I admitted, wrapping my arms around myself in a protective gesture. "This is my family's problem. I should handle it myself."

Dominic's face hardened, the muscle in his jaw visibly ticking. His blue eyes darkened with an emotion that looked surprisingly like hurt beneath the anger. I braced myself, my shoulders tensing as I expected him to unleash his Alpha rage for my disobedience.

Instead, his phone rang, cutting through the tension. Dominic pulled it from his pocket, his expression shifting as he glanced at the screen. His features became even more severe, lips pressing into a thin line.

"I need to handle this," he said, his voice low and controlled. He gave me one last unreadable look, eyes lingering on my face for a moment before he turned away to answer the call, walking back toward the hospital entrance.

I watched him leave, my shoulders slumping. I'd messed up again. The weight of my actions—my lies, my stubborn independence—pressed down on me. I struggled to take a full breath. I should have told him about Jason's debt immediately. I should have called him the moment William contacted me.

My thoughts turned to William, and hatred swept through me so intense that my stomach clenched and bile rose in my throat. Five years wasted with that man. Five years where I hadn't seen what was right in front of me.

"I'm such an idiot," I whispered, wrapping my arms around my middle as my nails dug into my sides. My eyes stung with unshed tears. "How could I have been with that monster for so long?"

William had never respected me. The signs were always there—how he dismissed my design portfolio, how he checked my phone, how he always made decisions without asking me. He'd treated me like a possession, something to display and control. Now he was threatening my family, trying to force me back into his bed through emotional blackmail.

My phone rang, interrupting my bitter thoughts. I fumbled to answer it, hands still shaking.

"Becca!" my mother cried, her voice high with panic. "The doctor says your father is going into surgery now! Where are you?"

"I'm coming, Mom," I replied, already moving toward the elevators, my heart rate accelerating. "I'll be right there."

---

I hurried through the hospital corridors, my breath coming in short gasps. By the time I reached the surgical waiting area, sweat had beaded along my hairline. My mother sat alone in the corner, her face pale and drawn, fingers nervously twisting a tissue. When she saw me, she reached out, grabbing my hand with surprising strength.

"Thank God you're here," she said, her voice trembling, eyes red-rimmed. "I'm so scared, Becca."

I squeezed her hand and sat beside her, letting my shoulder press against hers for comfort. "It's going to be okay, Mom. Dad's getting the best care possible now."

I glanced around the waiting room, scanning for my brother. My jaw tightened when I saw no sign of him. "Is Jason not here?" I asked, unable to keep the edge from my voice.

My mother's face fell, eyes dropping to her lap. "He left after you answered the phone, saying he was in a hurry."

Heat rushed to my face. I pulled out my phone, my fingers jabbing at the screen as I typed a furious message to my brother: [Dad is in surgery right now. Where the hell are you, you selfish jerk?]

A nurse approached us, clipboard in hand. "Mrs. Brown? Your husband has just gone into surgery. Dr. Winters from Sterling Medical Group is performing the procedure himself. It should take approximately four hours."

My mother nodded numbly, and I thanked the nurse, forcing a polite smile I didn't feel.

"Sterling Medical Group?" my mother asked after the nurse left, forehead creasing with confusion. "I thought we couldn't afford specialists."

I swallowed hard, mouth suddenly dry. "I... arranged for better care, Mom. Don't worry about it." My voice sounded strained even to my own ears.

She didn't press further. Instead, she leaned her head against my shoulder and closed her eyes, her body gradually growing heavier against mine.

The minutes stretched into hours. My back ached from the hard plastic chair, and I shifted uncomfortably, careful not to disturb my mother who dozed fitfully beside me. Exhaustion had finally claimed her after days of worry and sleepless nights.

I pulled out my phone, opening my messaging app. My fingers hovered over the keyboard as I drafted and deleted messages to Dominic. Each attempt felt inadequate, pathetic.

[I'm sorry for not telling you about Jason's debt.]

Delete.

[Thank you for helping with my father's surgery.]

Delete.

[I'm not trying to use you, I just didn't know what to do.]

Delete.

In the end, I sent nothing. My throat tightened as I acknowledged he was probably still angry, and rightfully so. He'd explicitly told me to stay away from William, yet I'd gone to meet him anyway. My eyes burned with fatigue as I stared at the screen. The fact that I'd been threatened wouldn't matter to an Alpha like Dominic, who expected obedience.

My thoughts drifted to our relationship. Dominic had done so much for me—arranged my father's surgery, given me a place to stay, bought me new art supplies. My chest felt heavy with guilt. What had I given him in return?

Relationship. The word made my heart beat faster. What exactly was our relationship? A business arrangement, certainly. A sexual partnership, definitely. But sometimes, in quiet moments like when he'd given me those new art supplies, I felt something shift between us.

My phone buzzed with a message. My pulse jumped before I realized it was Jason finally responding.

[Sorry sis, handling an emergency situation. Let me know how surgery goes.]

I shut off my phone, my teeth clenching so hard my jaw ached. Jason's "emergency" was undoubtedly related to his gambling debts, and once again, he was leaving me to handle our family's problems alone.

By eight thirty that evening, my back ached, my eyes burned, and I was surviving on vending machine coffee and stale crackers. The taste of cheap coffee lingered bitterly on my tongue. Then, finally, Dr. Winters emerged, still in his surgical scrubs but looking satisfied.

"Mrs. Brown, Miss Brown," she greeted us, her voice warm and confident. "I'm pleased to tell you the surgery was very successful. We've removed the tumor and repaired the damage to the surrounding tissue."