Lily sat at the long mahogany dining table in her parents' estate perched on the city's outskirts, where light danced from a crystal chandelier high above, spilling warm golden pools across the polished silverware and delicate fine China.
The air hung rich with the aroma of roasted lamb glazed in rosemary and garlic—tender pink slices fanned neatly on porcelain plates, their edges caramelized crisp, nestled beside creamy mashed potatoes flecked with fresh chives, chicken soup, fish fries layered with tomatoes, vibrant steamed asparagus tips glistening with a light butter sheen, and pools of dark red wine jus that caught the light like rubies.
A woven basket of crusty dinner rolls sat at the centre, still faintly steaming from the oven's heat, their golden exteriors cracked open to reveal soft, airy insides.
An aged Cabernet breathed quietly in a decanter nearby, its deep crimson hue swirling in crystal glasses. Faye lounged to Lily's left, her fork idly spearing a single asparagus stalk with elegant boredom, while Franklin—Lily's father, broad-shouldered with brown hair and a quiet, smile—presided at the table's head, gently swirling his wine.
Across from them, Maya, her mother, elegant in a strand of pearls and a flowing silk dress, sipped her French onion soup slow, the broth's caramelized edges bubbling faintly.
The dining room felt intimate yet imposing, dark wood-panelled walls adorned with stern portraits of Franklin's ancestors, tall windows framing the black garden outside where stone fountains trickled a soft, constant melody into the night.
"Your lover Emily's stirring things up again," Faye remarked casually, her voice light but laced with a pointed edge as she lifted the asparagus to her lips. "Just launched 'Hellen Paws'—a whole pet clothing line. She is trying to pull Herlos back from the edge. I've never met this Hellen woman myself, but giving Emily half the company? Complete fool's errand."
Lily's fork froze mid-air, a low snarl curling her perfect lips, her porcelain skin flushing hot under the chandelier's glow. She stabbed into her lamb with more force than needed, the jus splattering faintly across the plate.
"Emily won't be able to pull it off," she spat, voice tight with venom. "Total fool—history proves it every time. That viral video stunt? That photoshoot? Nothing."
Franklin looked up from neatly slicing his meat, a subtle smile creasing the corners of his eyes as he savoured a slow chew. "Listening to you, sounds like you fancy someone, Lily."
"I don't like her," Lily scowled, shoving a dinner roll toward the edge of her plate, crumbs tumbling loose across the linen tablecloth. The past week had been torture—Emily's name inescapable, blaring from headlines, flooding social feeds, whispered at every gala and lunch. It clawed at her, a constant thorn twisting deeper.
"Isn't she the stalker type? The one who stalked you, Lily?" Maya asked mildly, her spoon dipping slow into the soup, pearls glinting as she tilted her head with mild curiosity. "Always hovering in the background, that girl."
"Mom! She's an idiot," Lily snapped, her voice rising sharp and brittle, tossing the asparagus back onto her plate uneaten, the green stalk rolling slight. "Brainless, spineless—just dumb luck and cheap hype carrying her."
Franklin let out a low chuckle, dabbing his mouth with a crisp linen napkin folded just so. "Alpha, isn't she? Or that's the word going around." Would his daughter really like an alpha? By the way, Lily was a dominant alpha.
"Omega," Faye interjected smoothly, taking a deep sip of her Cabernet, the wine staining her lips a faint red. "Hiding it right out in the open." She was smirking internally. Seeing Lily riled up was totally worth it for her.
"Faye!" Lily yelled, her chair scraping back a fraction on the hardwood floor, eyes blazing with fury. "Are you telling the whole world now?!"
"Easy," Faye replied with a lazy wave of her hand, utterly unruffled, fork resuming its idle poke at the potatoes. "Just us here—no outsiders. Family table, family talk." The room seemed to shrink a touch, the dark wood panels absorbing the echo, ancestral portraits gazing down with stern judgment from their gilded frames.
Maya set her spoon down with a soft clink against the China, a faint smirk playing on her lips as she leaned forward slightly. "Speaks the one hiding her own truth, Lily. You are an alpha, Lily... yet, you are an omega for outsiders—glass houses, dear. Maybe you would come to like her one day." Her daughter always resisted change. Then again, it was her daughter's choice.
"Why the hell would I like her?!" Lily's anger erupted full now, napkin wadded tight in her fist, any faint spark of interest long scorched away by the endless family jabs. "She's garbage—no one with sense would bother. Her pet gimmicks? It's all laughable trash."
Franklin eased back in his chair, his wine glass circling slow in one hand, the liquid catching firelight. "All these moves got me thinking—what's the angle on Viktor's ambassador deal? We're food empire here—restaurants, packaged goods—and you're jumping there. Stretching yourself thin, or playing a longer game?" He was curious about Lily's course of actions.
Lily drew a sharp breath, forcing her rage down like swallowing glass, stabbing a potato instead and chewing deliberate.
"Pure leverage," she said finally, voice levelling cool. "Leonharts swing doors wide—global campaigns, cash pouring in rivers. I can use their power for my companies."
Maya's eyes narrowed, her fingers tightening around the spoon.
A flicker of amusement danced in her gaze, but it was edged with that familiar maternal steel. "Their power for your companies? Oh, dear, your alpha pride is swelling too much. You're not conquering the world alone—not yet."
Lily shook her head. Resolve hardened her jaw, a quiet fire burning behind her green eyes. "Mom, I'll do what's necessary. Whatever it takes."
"You should be careful. I have heard that their son likes you," said Franklin.
Lily shrugged, "I will simply use him. That man is a fool, and he will do whatever I say to him."