Pregnant With Four Alphas' Babies: A Reverse Harem Romance Chapter 59: Secrets Can Be Deadly

*Emily*

I treat my makeup like facial jewelry. Playing with shapes, colors, and structures changes me from the inside out. Considering that I am naturally attractive, I don't need much of it, but today is going to be the best day of my life.

I have taken out my black silk gown, with a lace hemming. The neckline is quite low, and the bodice so tight that it will push my breasts high and make for the most alluring cleavage. I should ask Tara to have it steam-pressed so it’s ready for the ‘sad’ theme that’s going to unfold soon enough.

I just like playing with makeup and clothes–so I really don’t feel like there are rules to sadness or mourning, and if there are rules, then I think it’s up to me to break them.

For a little practice before the Breeder is officially pronounced dead, I rehearse my fake somber expressions in front of the mirror as I sit in the ergonomic chair in front of it. As I count down the minutes, the clock's ticking becomes louder.

Tara walks in, and I turn sharply to face her. “Is it done?”

She nods her head. “I put the vitamins in her jar of peanut butter.”

“Excellent! Now we wait,” I say as I rub my hands together. Soon the Breeder and her four children will be out of the picture and I can shine.

“What do you mean now we wait, my lady?” Tara asks.

I wave my hand in dismissal at her. “We wait for the babies to be born strong and healthy,” I say, trying to mask a grin.

Tara shrugs, her gaze drawn to the gown on the bed. “Are you going somewhere tonight, miss?”

I roll my eyes not wanting to engage Tara. I’m listening for the screams and commotion that should follow the death of the Breeder.

As if on cue, I hear a scream coming from somewhere in the palace. I can’t help but smile. Tara jumps and turns to face the door. I stand up and walk out, going in the direction of the commotion. The noise is coming from the kitchen, so I make a beeline toward it.

Most of the servants are crowding the entrance to the kitchen, but I can hear the Alphas’ voices.

Nobody has turned around to look at me, and the rude servants are not moving out of my way either. Why were they all gathering here to see the Breeder dying? Why aren’t they in her room? Since when does she eat in the kitchen? It seems like she is as troublesome in death just like in life.

“They say she was poisoned,” I hear a servant whisper to another.

“Yes! Wolf’s bane… a lot of it I hear. There was no way she could have survived it,” another says.

I can feel my mouth spreading into a victorious smirk.

“What's going on, miss?” Tara’s voice comes from behind me.

“The Breeder is dead,” I answer plainly.

Tara’s eyes widen as she gapes at me. “How?”

“Looks like she was poisoned,” I answer, my eyes challenging her as I look in her eyes.

Tara’s hand moves up to clasp at her throat, before moving to cover her mouth.

“Poisoned? But… Miss Emily, the pills you said I should put into her food were vitamins, right?”

I sneer at her and shrug. “The pills look the same to me. Maybe they weren’t vitamins after all. Oops!”

“You made me poison the Breeder, Miss Emily!”

“Shh! You don’t want anyone hearing you confessing to killing a defenseless pregnant woman now, do you?”

Tears sparkle in my maid’s eyes, and I just want to grab her by her shoulders and shake her.

“You made me kill her!” Tara says. This time I am tempted to slap her across the face just to shut her up. This type of breaking down will be our undoing. She has to get a grip on her weak emotions–and fast.

I lean closer to her and whisper, “You better get a grip on yourself. If you continue talking like that, everyone will know you are a pregnant woman murderer.”

Tara lets out a muffled mourn, and I quickly put a hand against her mouth. “Shut the fuck up, stupid girl.”

She glares at me, fear and anger laced in her teary eyes. I can feel my hand getting wet and slimy from her silent tears and mucus.

“Gross!” I utter as I remove my hand from her mouth, praying she won’t start wailing the moment her mouth is free.

“How will we tell her family?” I hear someone asking. I can’t help but snort at that. They have already paid her parents some of the money for her services, I’m quite certain nobody will miss her dirty ass. She has already made her wretched parents more money than they have ever seen.

“Her son will be devastated,” someone else says.

I incline my head and straighten my spine just a little more. I assumed the children in her womb died alongside their mother. What children are they referring to?

“I hear her son has a young son. How will they tell him that he will never see his grandmother again?” a maid standing a few feet from me says.

I take a few steps toward her and roughly pull her arm to face me. “Who is dead?”

“The chef, Olga,” she answers as she pulls her arm away from my grasp.

I feel like someone just punched me in the gut. A wave of nausea accompanied by disorienting dizziness washes over me. Tara, the idiot, has poisoned the wrong person.

I grab the maid’s arm again. She glares at me with a bored and irritated expression. “H-how did she die?”

“Poison. The peanut butter was laced with wolf's bane,” she says. I let go of her arm weakly and she walks away putting distance between us.

I stride angrily toward Tara, making sure to say this in a whisper so only she can hear. “Idiot! You poisoned the wrong person.”

Her eyes are spitting flames as she looks at me. “I didn’t know it was poison. You said they were vitamins. I didn’t mean to poison the Breeder or anyone.”

I stomp my foot and shake my head. How had the chef consumed the Breeder's peanut butter?

“What now, Tara? The Breeder is supposed to be dining with the Moon Goddess right now, but no, you had to go and screw up a simple enough task.”

“Maybe the Moon Goddess is protecting the Breeder and the future heir to the throne. It’s not her time…. It’s nobody’s time. You made me a murderer! You are so evil.”

I tsk as I look her over. “Shut the fuck up! I’m not even bothered by the chef’s death. She is just a chef–replaceable. I’m mad that the Breeder isn’t lying by her side, dead like a fish out of water, too.”

Tara gasps as she looks at me. A frown creases her brow as if I have just uttered blasphemy.

“You are evil, Miss Emily.”

“Argh, enough of that nonsense. Now I need to find a new way to get rid of that thorn in my side. I really can’t wait to wear that black dress to that dirty bitch’s funeral.”

Tara’s tears continue to flow silently as she stares at me.

“We have to go back to the drawing board. If you want the status of being my friend, you have to make sure you do a good job this time.”

“I will not kill for you, Miss Emily,” Tara says, trying to swallow her sobs. “I didn’t even know that’s what those ‘vitamins’ were.”

“Oh, I think you will. You already killed one person, and to buy my silence, you will have to kill the right person this time. They say when you kill once, the blood craving is engraved in you. You are already a murderer, Tara. What is one more kill added to your body count?”

“I am not a murderer, Miss Emily.” She glares at me, her eyes still full of tears.

I smirk at her. “I doubt Helga’s son will agree with you.”

“Her name is Olga!” she says sternly.

I hear feet shuffle somewhere close by. Turning around, I see no one. We are standing far away from the gathering. I strain my neck to see if someone is listening to our conversation, but again, no one is there. A cat runs across the room and out of the window next to us. Argh! Just Mr. Whiskers.

I turn to face Tara again. “I am glad you are keeping track of your victim’s names. Now wipe those ugly tears from your face, and let’s come up with a new plan to get rid of that nuisance breeder.”