Fated To Not Just One But Three novel Chapter 220

Chapter 220: The Decision

Olivia’s POV

Alpha Damien stood still, waiting for my answer. He didn’t rush me, didn’t pressure me, he just waited. But the silence between us felt so loud, so suffocating.

I turned my back to him and faced the cold, cracked wall of the cell. I closed my eyes, trying to breathe, but it was hard. My chest felt too tight.

What choice did I even have?

If I said no... by tomorrow, I’d be dead. My head on the ground, just like in that horrible dream. Gabriel wasn’t bluffing—I saw it in his eyes.

And the triplets?

I tried reaching them... again and again. But nothing. The choker was doing its job. And even if they did feel something was wrong, by the time they figured it out—it would already be too late.

No one was coming.

No one was saving me.

So maybe... maybe Alpha Damien’s deal was the only way out.

A fake death.

A new face.

A life in hiding.

Being his wife in name only.

Just for one year.

I let out a shaky breath and slowly turned back to face him. His eyes met mine, calm but serious.

"I’ll do it," I said, voice low but firm. "I’ll accept the deal."

His face didn’t change, but I saw a small spark of relief in his eyes.

"But..." I raised a finger. "You have to promise me—swear it—that after one year, you’ll let me go. You’ll give me my life back. My face back."

"I swear," he said without hesitation. "After one year, your face will be restored, and you’ll be free to leave. I’ll even remove the bracelet myself."

I studied him, looking for any hint of a lie... but he looked serious.

I slowly nodded.

"Then we have a deal."

He stepped forward and held out his hand. And with a deep breath, I placed my hand in his. We shook, and I pulled away with a hard swallow, my chest tightening with dread. I didn’t know what I was getting myself into and if I should trust Alpha Damien by his words, but what other choice did I have... anything was better than my head being chopped off... I don’t want to experience such a painful and brutal death.

"Take off your clothes," he suddenly said.

I blinked, confused. "What?"

Alpha Damien rolled his eyes like it should’ve been obvious. "I have to fake your death, remember? My witch needs your clothes—something fresh, something with your scent. That way, when the triplets see them, they won’t doubt it’s real."

A cold wave washed over me.

He was right... but still, hearing it like that hit differently. I glanced down at the clothes I was wearing. They weren’t much, but they still felt like the last thing tying me to who I was.

"How are you going to fake it exactly?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

He looked at me, his eyes unreadable. "That’s not your worry. Just know it’ll be convincing. No one will question it."

I gave a slow nod. Maybe it was better that way. The less I knew, the better.

But even as I reached for the hem of my shirt, my heart tightened painfully in my chest. My mind drifted to the triplets—Louis... Levi... Lennox.

What would they feel?

Would they cry? Break?

Would they hate themselves for not saving me?

Would they think they failed me?

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