Chapter 11
530words
"But you just said—" Loki's mother sputtered.
"I simply found it entertaining. Three years ago, Loki brought this woman home to replace me. Three years later, he brings me home to replace her. Quite the circular narrative, don't you think?"
The color drained from Loki's face. "What are you saying?"
"Show's over. I'm leaving." I shrugged on my jacket with fluid efficiency. "Cynthia, enjoy being Mrs. Dalton. The title means nothing to me now."
Loki lunged forward, seizing my arm. "Alice! What are you doing? I said I just need time to arrange things!"
I pivoted and slapped him hard across the face.
The crack of palm against cheek echoed through the room.
Loki's father leapt to his feet. "You ungrateful nobody! How dare you strike my son!"
Loki stood frozen, hand to his reddening cheek.
"Remove your hands from my person," I said, each word dripping with contempt. "You sicken me."
Loki stared at me, bewildered. "This isn't you, Alice. What happened to you?"
"For fuck's sake, stop saying my name like you own it. I am Alice Wells. From now on, you will address me as Ms. Wells. Is that clear?"
As he reached for me again, the front door crashed open.
BANG!
The door slammed against the wall, making the crystal chandelier tremble.
A formation of men in black suits entered with military precision, their faces expressionless, their presence menacing.
The leader removed his sunglasses, his cold gaze sweeping the room before finding me. His expression immediately shifted to deep respect.
"Alice," Lance said with a slight bow. "Forgive my delay."
The Daltons' expressions transformed in perfect unison—shock, confusion, dawning horror.
"Who the hell are you people?" Loki stepped protectively in front of me.
Lance didn't acknowledge Loki's existence, walking straight to me with deferential posture.
"The car is waiting. Your father is... displeased," he said quietly. "We're here to escort you home."
Lance finally turned to Loki, his eyes promising violence.
Not wanting unnecessary bloodshed, I said simply: "We're leaving."
I strode past Loki toward the door, not sparing him another glance.
Loki's father suddenly scrambled forward, his expression morphing to obsequious terror. "Good heavens—Alice Wells? THE Wells family? I had no idea!"
Loki's mother scoffed. "What nonsense! She's just some nobody from the wrong side of—"
SLAP! Loki's father struck his wife mid-sentence. "Shut up! That man—I recognize him from business journals. He's Wells's adopted son!"
Cynthia staggered backward. "That's—that's impossible! A mere replacement couldn't possibly be—"
"Silence!" Loki's father hissed before turning to me with a desperate smile. "Alice, dear, it was all Loki's mistake! You two shared so much—a marriage, a child! We welcome you back with open arms! Loki will divorce Cynthia immediately!"
Lance's lip curled in disgust. "As if she'd lower herself to your level again."
Loki's father's smile froze on his face.
I turned back, patting Loki's father's cheek condescendingly. "He's right. You're not worthy of my attention. Don't tempt me to crush your little family business as an afterthought."
Loki stood paralyzed, unable to form words.
Having wasted enough time on these people, I walked out with Lance and my security detail.
