Claiming Emerald: Four Alphas At Her Feet
Chapter 92: Steal a Body???

Chapter 92: Steal a Body???

Emerald turned toward the door without another word. Her pulse was still racing, her skin still humming with fury. She didn’t want to be here a second longer. Not in this room, not even a mile near him.

The silence that followed felt too loud. A thick, tense void pressing at her back.

But before she could take a step, Rick’s voice cut through the air. "Wait!" He didn’t sound playful, nor did he have a mocking tone in his voice. He just seemed... tired.

Emerald froze.

Her fingers hovered just above the doorknob. She didn’t turn around.

Behind her, Rick let out a deep breath, like whatever held him upright had finally cracked.

He dragged a hand through his messy hair. "You’ve said a lot. Accused even more. But you haven’t actually said anything real."

That made her glance back.

His posture was no longer defensive but rather guarded and cautious. "Do you have any proof?" he asked in a low voice. "Any actual evidence tying Alia to this accusation?"

Emerald didn’t flinch. "No." Her tone was flat. "But I’ll get it soon."

Rick narrowed his eyes, arms slowly crossing over his chest. "So until then, you’re just going to keep throwing wild accusations around? This is starting to sound more like a personal vendetta."

The jab hit its mark.

Emerald’s gaze turned sharp. "Is that what you think? That I’m framing her?"

His jaw twitched. "I think you’ve hated her from the second you stepped back into this territory."

"Because I know what she is."

"You don’t know anything," he snapped, his voice rising. "You’re just pissed that I chose her instead of you."

Her breath caught for a second, but she shoved the sting away and stepped closer, her anger rising once more.

"So you can believe that I killed her child," she spat, "but the idea that she might be trying to kill me as revenge is too far-fetched for you?"

His mouth twitched with something bitter. "So... is that your way of finally admitting it? Admitting that you killed her child?"

"It was hypothetical, you idiot." She scowled, fists clenched at her sides. "I didn’t do a damn thing to her, and I’ve told you that more times than I can count. But you..." she jabbed a finger toward him, nearly poking his chest, "...you never wanted to believe me."

Rick turned his gaze, his jaw tightening, and his eyes filled with anger. He didn’t say a word, but that silence said enough.

Emerald’s chest rose and fell unevenly. Her hands trembled slightly, though she hid them behind her back.

She turned back towards the door, her back tense and straight. Her hand reached for the knob, fingers brushing the cool brass. But instead of twisting it open, she paused.

"I don’t care what happens to her," she said quietly, not facing him. "But you... Rick, you might be a lot of things. Manipulative. Entitled. A walking disappointment. But you’re not evil."

He blinked, visibly caught off guard. "Thanks?"

She finally turned to face him, eyes steady. "I don’t think you deserve to go down for her crimes."

For a long beat, nothing passed between them except the charged air.

Their eyes met, hers looked tired and were filled with defiance and weary, while his were hard to read. Something unspoken stretched between them.

Rick took a step forward.

Emerald opened the door before he could say anything more.

The hallway beyond was dim, sconces casting flickering shadows across the stone. The silence was thick and quiet, like the calm before a storm.

She stepped into the corridor and stopped cold as her eyes landed on Alia. She was standing just a few feet away, leaning against the wall like she’d been waiting there all along.

Her arms were folded. Her expression unreadable.

Emerald’s lips curved into a slow, knowing smirk. "Eavesdropping, Alia?"

Alia tilted her head slightly, like a cat watching its prey. "Just passing by."

Emerald stepped closer, the click of her boots echoing softly. "Convenient."

"Not exactly my concern, but as courtesy demands, I can’t help but ask," Alia said smoothly, brushing an invisible speck from her sleeve, "how everyone’s doing back home."

Emerald didn’t react, at least not outwardly. But her fingers curled slightly at her sides. That question was definitely not casual. It was a warning.

Their eyes met, like two wolves circling each other. They weren’t attacking yet, but the tension in the air felt thick, like smoke before a fire.

Rick appeared in the doorway behind Emerald, his voice calm but commanding. "I told you to stay in your room."

Alia immediately turned toward him, and her entire demeanour shifted in the blink of an eye. Her posture softened, her eyes warmed, and he stepped into his arms like she belonged there.

"I was just worried," she said softly.

Rick blinked, caught off guard. "Worried?"

"You were alone... with her." Alia clung to him like a lifeline, her fingers pressing into his shirt. "And she’s been known to have violent tendencies."

Emerald rolled her eyes so hard it nearly gave her a headache. "Right. Because I’m the one who throws furniture when I don’t get my way."

Alia didn’t respond, didn’t even acknowledge her.

"I just missed you," Alia murmured, her voice barely audible. "I didn’t want to go to sleep without you."

Rick let out a strained breath and rubbed his forehead. "Alia..."

"I’ll let myself out," Emerald interrupted coldly. She didn’t look back this time. Her voice was flat, her eyes forward.

And just like that, she was gone.

Neither of them tried to stop her.

But her thoughts were a raging storm beneath her calm exterior.

Rick still didn’t see it. He still believed Alia was this soft, broken thing in need of protection. He’d believed it back then. He still believed it now.

And maybe... he always would.

She clenched her jaw and made her way outside. The night air hit her like a slap: cool, biting, and much too silent.

She needed air.

She needed distance.

She needed a moment to remember why she hadn’t gutted Rick right there in his own damn study.

The driver opened the back door without a word. She slid in, shut it behind her, and leaned her head back against the seat.

Breathe.

In. Out.

Her heart was still racing. Her hands still tingled.

Her phone vibrated.

She blinked, startled, then pulled it from her coat pocket. The screen glowed, the caller ID displaying Nessa’s name.

She answered instantly. "Nessa?"

"I have news." Nessa’s voice was tight and urgent, edged with something sharp. "We made a lead in the case."

Emerald straightened, her spine snapping upright. "What happened? Talk to me."

There was a loud noise in the background, shouting, hurried footsteps, the clatter of metal against stone.

And then Nessa’s voice came again, this time almost breathless. "Someone tried to steal Quince’s body."

"What?"