Hidden Secrets (editing and improving the story)

Chapter 75 - In the meanwhile

Elektra's pov:

I was devastated, knowing I couldn't escape Bartholomew this time. No one knew where I was; no one could find me, let alone save me. Desperation and hopelessness consumed me.

Sleep eluded me that night as anxiety and despair gnawed at my resolve. I needed to find a way out of here—but how? The room was locked, and silver chains bound me, their presence a cruel reminder of my vulnerability. If I could just free myself, I might have a chance. I had to act quickly; time was not on my side.

Morning arrived, finding me still struggling against the chains, but they held fast. The silver sapped my strength, its touch a constant, burning torment for a werewolf. Then I heard it—footsteps in the hallway. Someone was coming.

Where was Andros' brother? Ever since Bartholomew appeared, Andros' brother had vanished without a trace. Had Bartholomew killed him? The thought chilled me. Why was Andros' brother so hostile toward me? I had never harmed his brother. Perhaps Batholomew had twisted the truth, weaving lies to manipulate and divide us.

The door creaked open, and Bartholomew stepped inside, carrying a large tray of food. He placed it on the table beside me before slowly approaching.

-"Good morning, sweetie," he said, reaching out to caress my cheek. I turned my head sharply, evading his touch. His presence disgusted me, a sickening reminder of my misplaced trust. My mind drifted back to the days when I thought of him as my father. How proud and happy I'd felt to have someone like him in my life. How naive I'd been to believe he was good, honest, and kind. The warning signs had been there all along, yet I'd ignored them.

-"Don't be like this," he said, his voice tinged with annoyance. "A few months ago, you welcomed my affection with joy."

-"That was because I thought you were my father," I replied, my voice heavy with sadness. "I don't think that anymore."

He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. "But I was never your father. I'm your mate, Elektra. Can't you see that?"

-"You are not my mate!" I yelled, my frustration boiling over. He was delusional—lost in his own paranoid fantasies.

-"Elektra, why do you keep hurting me?" he asked, his voice trembling as tears glistened in his eyes. "Why are you making this so difficult for us?"

For a moment, I hesitated. Was this real emotion? Or just another layer of manipulation? This man standing before me wasn't the Bartholomew I once thought I knew. But I couldn't trust him. I knew better now—his intentions were never sincere, never benevolent.

-"Why are you doing this to me?" I demanded, my voice breaking. But he didn't answer. Without a second glance, he turned and left the room, leaving me chained and desperate, still searching for a way to escape.

Alexander's pov:

The days spent watching Andrew's brother led us nowhere. It turned out the man had been in town, searching for his brother, with no ties to Bartholomew or his gang. As for Bartholomew and his crew, they were just as elusive, only deepening our suspicions that Bartholomew was gathering an army for some unknown purpose. Only the Goddess knew what his intentions were. I prayed he wouldn't repeat the horrors he'd inflicted on my pack.

I was sitting in my apartment, attempting to relax, when the doorbell rang. I opened it, surprised to find Roxanne standing on the other side. She looked unwell, a wreck of emotion and exhaustion.

-"Roxanne, welcome. Please come in," I said gently, stepping aside to let her in.

-"Thank you," she replied, her voice tight with anxiety. "I'm sorry to bother you, but I can't sit alone at home and wait. The agony... it's killing me."