Desired By Three Alphas; Fated To One - Chapter 232

Chapter 232: Time
Hailee’s POV

The woman’s face drained of color. Her lips trembled as her eyes darted between Peter and me. The arrogant pride she carried moments ago was gone, replaced with fear and shame.

“Your… sister?” she whispered again, her voice shaking. “I… I didn’t know—”

Peter interrupted her. “You should have asked before raising your hand,” he said sternly. “And you should never lay a finger on a child, especially my sister’s.”

Gasps spread through the crowd. The music had long stopped, and all that filled the hall were whispers and the sound of my heart pounding in my chest.

The woman blinked rapidly, her tears now real. “I–I’m so sorry,” she stammered, clutching the edge of her dress. “I didn’t mean to—I thought he was just some—”

I didn’t let her finish. I looked at her once, a cold, steady look that made her words die in her throat, then turned away. “Save your apology,” I said softly, my voice calm but full of suppressed anger. “You don’t hurt a child and then say you didn’t mean to.”

Peter said nothing more. His jaw was tight, and his hand clenched at his side. The guards began to escort her away quietly as the whispers grew louder. Some of the nobles looked at me with pity, others with newfound respect.

But I didn’t care what any of them thought.

All I cared about was the small hand gripping my dress.

“Ozzy,” I whispered, kneeling to his level. He managed a tiny smile, his brave way of telling me he was fine. “Are you okay?” I asked anyway.

He nodded quickly, trying to be brave. “I’m fine, Mom,” he said softly. “She didn’t hurt me that bad.”

I brushed his hair, my heart twisting. “You’re too kind, my love,” I murmured. “But no one should ever touch you like that again. Ever.”

I stood and turned toward Peter. “We’re leaving,” I said quietly. “I think we’ve had enough celebration for one night.”

He nodded once, his voice low and concerned. “Go ahead. I’ll handle the rest.”

I didn’t wait another second. I guided Ozzy toward the exit, feeling Oliver and Oscar quickly fall into step beside me. Their faces were tense, protective, but quiet.

Mother met us halfway, worry written all over her face. “Hailee, what happened?” she asked softly, her eyes darting toward Ozzy.

I shook my head. “Nothing that needs repeating,” I said tiredly. “We’re going to head to bed.”

She nodded slowly, squeezing my hand. “All right, dear. Rest. I’ll come check on you later.”

I managed a small smile and led the boys upstairs. The noise from the ballroom faded the farther we walked until there was nothing but the soft echo of our footsteps on the marble floor.

When we reached their room, I helped them settle into their beds. The silver moonlight poured in through the window, bathing the room in a soft glow.

For a moment, I just stood there, looking at them—my three boys, my reason for surviving everything.

“Hey,” I said quietly, sitting on the edge of Ozzy’s bed. “Can I ask you something?”

They looked at me, waiting.

“Do you think…” My voice wavered, but I forced the words out. “Do you think you’ll ever forgive me? For everything?”

The room went silent. Oliver looked away, Oscar shifted under his blanket, and Ozzy just stared at me.

For a moment, I thought none of them would answer. Then Ozzy whispered, “Maybe.”

That one word, small and uncertain, still broke me.

I smiled through the sting of tears and nodded. “That’s fair,” I said softly. “You can take all the time you need.”

Leaning forward, I kissed each of their foreheads gently. “Goodnight, my loves,” I whispered. “Sleep well.”

They didn’t answer, but none of them turned away this time. That, at least, was something.

I stood slowly and turned off the lights. As I stepped out and closed the door behind me, I leaned against the wall for a moment, breathing deeply. My chest ached, but there was also a strange peace in the silence.

Maybe Ozzy was right. Maybe someday they would forgive me.

But for now, all I could do was give them time and hope that time would be kind toward me.

By the time I reached my room, the palace halls had gone quiet. The sounds of music and laughter from the ballroom were long gone, replaced by the soft hum of the night outside.

I closed the door behind me and exhaled deeply. The weight of everything—the stares, the whispers, that ridiculous scene with Peter’s fiancée—finally sank in.

I walked to the vanity, unclasping the moon pendant from my neck. The reflection staring back at me in the mirror didn’t look like a princess. Just a tired mother trying her best to hold everything together.

I slipped out of the silver gown and walked naked into the bathroom, finding the bathtub already filled. I sank into the warm water, closing my eyes.

For the first time that day, I could breathe.

When I finished, I wrapped myself in a soft robe, brushed through my damp hair, and put on a light nightgown. I was just about to crawl into bed when a soft knock came at the door.

I frowned slightly, glancing at the clock. It was well past midnight.

“Come in,” I said softly.

The door opened, and one of the maids entered, bowing slightly. In her hands, she held the old palace telephone—the one reserved for direct, private calls.

“Your Highness,” she said politely, “someone wishes to speak with you. He said, It’s important.”

I blinked confused. “At this hour?”

“Yes, my lady.”

My brows furrowed. “Who is it?”

“He… didn’t say. Just asked for you by name.”

I hesitated for a moment, my fingers hovering over the receiver before I finally took the phone from her. “Thank you,” I murmured.

She bowed again and quietly left the room, closing the door behind her.