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The normalcy of the gesture—dinner together, as we did every night—felt like a lifeline I desperately needed to grasp. I slid into my usual chair, and Christopher immediately placed a plate of pasta in front of me, the creamy sauce steaming gently.

"Eat," he encouraged, his voice gentle but firm.

"I'm not hungry," I whispered, but took a small bite anyway, knowing they'd worry if I didn't at least try. The familiar flavors—normally so comforting—felt dull against my tongue.

Christopher sat beside me, his steady presence a silent anchor. "Small bites. You'll need your strength."

Miles joined us at the table, tablet in hand. "I've traced the source of the leak," he said without preamble. "It wasn't hard to follow the money."

"Who?" Julian demanded, his fork suspended midair.

"Your mother's personal assistant," Miles replied, looking directly at me. "Karen Charles. She's been working for your family for what, five years now?"

My stomach dropped. "Seven. She knows... everything." I set my fork down, my appetite completely gone. "She was there for all my medical appointments. She scheduled them, kept my schedule organized and made sure I was doing what my mother wanted me to be doing at all times.”

"She handled all of your personal correspondence," I continued, my voice growing smaller as the full scope of the betrayal sank in. "She knew about my heat cycles, my suppressants, when I was struggling with the arranged matings my mother kept pushing for..." I trailed off, feeling nauseous.

Miles nodded grimly. "She's been shopping a detailed timeline to various outlets. Medical appointment schedules, your emotional state leading up to leaving, even transcripts of conversations she claims to have overheard between you and your parents."

"Transcripts?" Christopher's voice was dangerously quiet.

"She apparently recorded an argument with your mother," Miles continued, his jaw tight. "Nothing illegal—she was present for the conversations—but definitely unethical."

I felt the blood drain from my face. "It was the only argument I had with my mother before I learned it was less painful to keep my mouth shut.”

The silence that followed was deafening. I could feel all four men's eyes on me, their protective instincts flaring at the implications of what I'd just revealed.

"What do you mean, less painful?" Christopher's voice was carefully controlled, but I could hear the undercurrent of rage beneath it.

I wrapped my arms around myself, suddenly feeling exposed despite being fully clothed. "She didn't like it when I disagreed with her. It was... easier to just go along with what she wanted." The words tasted bitter in my mouth.

Julian's fork clattered against his plate. "Lilianna, what did she do to you?"

I shook my head, not wanting to delve into those memories now. "It doesn't matter. What matters is that Karen has recordings of me at my worst—crying, begging my mother to reconsider the arrangement….” I trailed off, tears welling up in my eyes.

The memories flooded back—Karen standing silently in the corner with her tablet, always present but invisible, documenting everything. How naive I'd been to think she was just doing her job.

"She has recordings of me breaking down," I whispered, the words scraping against my throat.

"Of me saying I didn't want to be mated to strangers, that I was scared, that I felt like I was being sold.

" My voice cracked. "She was there when I begged my mother to let me have more time, to consider other options. "

Miles's expression darkened. "She's trying to paint a picture of you as an unwilling victim who jumped from one bad situation into another."

"Except this time, with older men who supposedly took advantage of your vulnerability," Nicolaus added, his analytical mind already working through the implications.

I pressed my palms against my eyes, trying to hold back the tears.

"And the worst part," I said, my voice barely audible, "is that those recordings will sound exactly like what she's claiming they are.

Because I was terrified then. I didn't want to be with those men my parents had chosen.

I was desperate." I looked up, meeting each of their gazes.

"But this—us—it's completely different."

Christopher reached across the table, his large hand covering mine. "We know that, Lilianna."

"But no one else will," I whispered. "They'll hear me sobbing about being forced into a mating and then learn I ended up with four alphas instead. They won't understand the difference."

Miles set the tablet down with a controlled deliberateness that betrayed his anger. "They will when we're done explaining it."

"These recordings," Christopher said, reaching across the table to gently take my hand, "do they actually capture your mother's responses?"

I nodded slowly, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. "Oh yes. Every cold dismissal, every time she told me I was being ungrateful and childish." I met his eyes. "Every reminder that I was an omega who should be grateful that anyone would want me at all."

The growls that rumbled through the room made the hair on my arms stand up. It wasn't directed at me, but the pure alpha rage vibrating in the air was palpable.

"That actually works in our favor," Nicolaus said, his tactical mind already shifting. "If the full recordings are released, they'll reveal exactly what kind of woman your mother is."

Miles nodded, his expression thoughtful. "We could use this. Turn it around on them."

"No," I said sharply, surprising myself with the force of my own voice. "I won't have those recordings made public. I won't have my lowest moments broadcasted for entertainment."

The men exchanged glances, and I could see the conflict in their eyes—the desire to protect me warring with their need to defend us all.

"Lilianna," Miles said gently, "I understand your reluctance, but—"

"No." I stood abruptly, my chair scraping against the floor. "I've been violated enough. I won't let Karen and my mother profit from my pain by turning it into a public spectacle." My hands were shaking, but my voice grew stronger. "There has to be another way."

Julian was on feet in an instant, his arms coming around me from behind. "Okay, sweetheart. We'll find another way."

“Thank you.” I muttered, suddenly feeling exhausted.

I leaned back against Julian's solid chest, drawing strength from his steady presence. The knot of anxiety in my stomach was still there, but beneath it, something else was building—a determination I hadn't felt before.

"We need to be proactive," I said, my voice steadier than I expected. "Not reactive."

Christopher's eyes softened as he watched me. "You're right. We won't let them weaponize your vulnerability." He stood, moving around the table to join us. "But we do need a strategy."

"I already have one," Nicolaus said, his fingers tapping against the table in that familiar rhythm he used when his mind was working through complex problems. "We go on the offensive."

I turned in Julian's arms. "What does that mean?"

"It means," Miles said, his expression hardening, "we don't wait for them to control the narrative. We expose Karen's betrayal of confidentiality first. We make it clear she violated professional ethics by recording private conversations."

"And we demonstrate what we all know to be true," Christopher added, his hand finding my shoulder. "That you chose us. That you're happy. That this relationship is nothing like what your mother tried to force on you."

I felt a flicker of hope at their words, but the practical part of my mind immediately began raising objections. "How do we prove that? It's not like we have recordings of our own to counter hers."

"We don't need recordings," Nicolaus said, his blue eyes intense. "We have something better. We have witnesses to your transformation. People who've seen you grow from the terrified omega who first arrived here to the confident woman you are now."

Miles nodded, pulling up something on his tablet. "Dr. Chen, for one. She's been treating you since you arrived and can speak to your mental health improvements. I’m sure Lydia would speak up, especially given what she went through in choosing her own pack.."

The thought that others had noticed my growth—had seen me becoming more myself—sent a strange flutter through my chest. I'd been so focused on my internal journey that I hadn't considered how visible those changes might be to outsiders.

"There's more we can do," Nicolaus continued, his tactical mind clearly mapping out scenarios. "We can issue a statement first. Acknowledging rumors and giving the information we want first.”

"What kind of statement?" I asked, though part of me already dreaded the answer. The thought of putting our private life on display, even on our own terms, made my skin crawl.

"Something that frames the narrative correctly from the beginning," Nicolaus explained, his voice taking on that measured tone he used when presenting complex strategies.

"We acknowledge that you left with an arranged mating situation.

We are courting you but we emphasize that you came to us through proper channels—pack to pack negotiations, with full consent and legal documentation. "

Miles pulled up a document on his tablet. "I've already drafted something preliminary. It focuses on the professional nature of how we met, the time we gave you to adjust, and the organic development of our relationship."

I walked over to read over his shoulder, Julian's hand remaining on my lower back as I moved. The words were clinical, professional—nothing like the messy, beautiful reality of how we'd actually fallen in love.

I took a deep breath, “Fine. I don’t want to know the comments or anything though. I don’t…” I trailed off, trying to figure out the right words I was feeling about this whole situation.

"I don't want to see how people judge me," I finished quietly, my voice barely audible. "I know there will be comments about me being weak, or gold-digging, or..." I swallowed hard. "Or worse."

Christopher's hand tightened on my shoulder. "You won't see any of it. We'll handle all media monitoring."

"Promise me," I said, turning to face all of them. "Promise me you won't tell me what people are saying unless it's absolutely necessary."

"We promise," Julian said without hesitation, his arms tightening around me. "Your mental health is more important than any of this noise."

Miles nodded, closing the tablet. "I'll coordinate with our PR team. The statement will go out tomorrow morning before any potential story can break."

"What about Karen?" I asked, the betrayal still stinging.

Nicolaus's expression hardened. "Leave Karen to me. Her breach of confidentiality violates several laws—not to mention professional ethics standards. We'll make sure she faces consequences."

"And your mother," Julian added, his voice dropping to that dangerous register that made my omega instincts both wary and thrilled, "will learn that she's picked a fight with the wrong alphas."

I shivered slightly at his tone. "I don't want revenge. I just want her to leave us alone."

"Sometimes," Christopher said gently, "those two things require the same action." He brushed a strand of hair from my face. "We won't do anything you're uncomfortable with, but we can't allow her to continue these attacks."

I nodded slowly, understanding the truth in his words. My mother wouldn't stop unless forced to. She saw my happiness as a personal affront, my independence as rebellion.

“Can I go lay down in the nest in the living room?” I asked, stepping away from Julian with a small smile, “I think I just want to curl up and maybe listen to some music or read.”

"Of course," Christopher said immediately, his voice softening. "Do you want company, or would you prefer some time alone?"

I considered for a moment, part of me wanting to retreat completely, but the larger part knowing that isolation would only make my anxiety worse. "Maybe just... quiet company? You don't have to talk to me, just..."

"We understand," Miles assured me, gesturing to the kitchen table where their laptops and papers were spread out. "Working on damage control, but close enough if you need anything."

I made my way to the living room, where the large nest we'd built together. It was a mixture of all our scents now—a perfect blend that immediately began to calm my frayed nerves as I settled into the soft blankets and pillows.