The Bride Widow
Chapter 125: Ch 125: I would like a deal

Chapter 125: Ch 125: I would like a deal

Helena paced the length of her room, her mind spinning with everything that had transpired. Her conversation with Daniel’s mother had left a bitter taste in her mouth, the woman’s cold dismissal echoing in her head. Anabella lost her chance. You have no right to complain.

Helena’s fists clenched at the memory. She had spent years manipulating people, weaving lies, and securing alliances—but tonight, she’d met her match. Daniel’s mother was as ruthless as they came, unmoved by sentiment or loyalty. She had made her stance clear: Anabella was expendable.

Helena scoffed bitterly. Expendable? Anabella was her responsibility, whether she liked it or not. She couldn’t let that pair of alphas—Noah and Clair—take control of the situation. They were relentless, dangerous... but worst of all, honest.

Their honesty had shaken her in a way she hadn’t expected. Noah’s thinly veiled threats still echoed in her mind, as sharp as a blade: "I’ll end everything you hold dear." The calm certainty in his voice had been more terrifying than any shouted threat. He wasn’t posturing—he meant it.

She hated them for it—their clarity, their purpose, their willingness to tear everything apart for Anabella’s sake. It was a kind of loyalty she didn’t understand, one that unsettled her deeply. People like her operated in the shadows, trading favors and spinning webs. But Noah and Clair? They didn’t need manipulation. They were the storm.

Helena sat heavily on the edge of her bed, her hands trembling despite her best efforts to steady them. Her carefully curated world was unraveling, and she hated it.

What now? she thought bitterly. She couldn’t run to Daniel—he was as much of a mess as Anabella. His mother would only watch with amusement if she failed.

Think, she urged herself, but her mind kept circling back to the same truth—one she didn’t want to face. She couldn’t manipulate her way out of this. Not with Noah and Clair breathing down her neck.

Her phone buzzed, dragging her out of her spiraling thoughts. She snatched it up, heart pounding—but it was only a message from an old contact, someone she hadn’t used in years.

"Still handling problems? Let me know if you need... assistance."

Helena stared at the message, her mind working rapidly. There was a time when she would have deleted it without a second thought, refusing to rely on anyone else. But tonight, she hesitated.

Ruthless honesty, she thought bitterly. That was what Noah and Clair lived by. Maybe it was time she embraced her own brand of honesty—one that didn’t rely on loyalty or love. Just survival.

Her fingers hovered over the keypad before she typed a single word in reply:

"Interested."

The message sent, and Helena let out a shaky breath. The game was far from over—and if she was going to lose, she would make sure she took everyone down with her.

______

Helena sat in the dim light of her study, her fingers tapping restlessly on the polished oak desk. The soft glow of a single desk lamp cast long shadows across the room, highlighting her tense features. She had spent the past hour reviewing every possible option, every angle she could exploit—but nothing seemed solid enough to ensure her survival.

Her conversation with Noah and Clair still echoed in her mind. Their unwavering determination to free Anabella from Daniel had rattled her more than she cared to admit. They weren’t just protective—they were dangerously invested. They didn’t play by the rules of negotiation or subtle manipulation. They moved with terrifying precision, pushing her into a corner she could barely see a way out of.

But Helena hadn’t survived this long by folding under pressure. She thrived in the chaos of manipulation and lies. If Noah and Clair wanted to play dirty, she would be ready.

Her phone buzzed again, interrupting her dark musings. She snatched it up and saw another message from her old contact—the one she had sworn she would never use again.

"We need to meet. Terms first."

Helena hesitated, her pulse pounding. Reaching out to this person was a dangerous gamble. The last time they’d worked together, it had nearly cost her everything—but desperate times called for desperate measures.

"Tomorrow. Usual place."

The reply came instantly: "Understood."

She exhaled slowly, feeling both relief and dread. She hated being at the mercy of someone else, but if this move kept her ahead of Noah and Clair, it would be worth the risk.

Helena leaned back in her chair, fingers steepled under her chin. Noah and Clair were fixated on getting Anabella divorced from Daniel—and making her look like a tragic, discarded omega in the public eye. That narrative could not be allowed to take root.

She needed to rewrite the story before they did. Daniel’s reputation as a powerful alpha could still be leveraged if she played this right. Public opinion could be swayed with the right presentation. If she made Daniel seem like the victim, forced into an unwanted bond and betrayed by Anabella’s supposed selfishness, she could turn the tide.

Her eyes gleamed with cold calculation. Anabella was too soft, too broken to fight back effectively. If she could push Daniel into the spotlight as the wronged party, Anabella’s fragile image would shatter—along with Noah and Clair’s plans.

But how?

A soft knock at the study door startled Helena. She stiffened but quickly composed herself as her husband, Marcus, stepped inside. His eyes were tired but still sharp, taking in her calculating expression.

"You’re working late," he said cautiously.

"Planning ahead," she replied smoothly, masking her true intentions.

Marcus studied her for a moment, his gaze steady. He had always been the more morally grounded one—but even he knew when to stay silent.

"Helena," he said quietly, "whatever you’re thinking... don’t make it worse."

Her expression hardened. "I’m making sure we survive."

He sighed heavily but didn’t argue. They both knew how dangerous this game had become—but for Helena, surrender was never an option.

Helena paced her study, the dim light casting eerie shadows across the room. The cold dread she had been suppressing now loomed larger with every passing moment. Manipulating the media and calling in old favors were moves she could handle—but Noah and Clair were unpredictable, relentless, and personal.

Her mind raced, searching for an ally who could shift the balance of power. One name burned in her thoughts: Daniel’s mother. An alpha of immense influence and cunning, she had played a critical role in orchestrating Daniel’s rise. If anyone could match Noah and Clair’s sheer determination, it was her.

Without wasting another second, Helena snatched her phone and dialed. The line rang longer than expected, and for a moment, she thought the call would go unanswered.

Finally, a cold, authoritative voice came through.

"Helena. This is unexpected."

Helena took a steadying breath, forcing warmth into her voice. "I thought it was time we spoke... about Anabella."

There was a pause—sharp, calculating.

"There’s nothing to discuss. The girl is irrelevant now."

Helena clenched her fist. "I think we both know it’s more complicated than that. We could help each other—if we just meet."

The voice turned icy.

"I don’t take meetings with failures."

The line went dead.