You Forced Me to Scrub Toilets, But I’m Your Pack’s True Alpha Queen

POV: Claire

Morning sunlight cut through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the grand dining room, yet the air remained thick with tension.

Noah sat beside me at the long mahogany table, quietly nibbling on a blueberry pancake I had cut into neat squares. For the first time in days, he was calm, his tiny fingers resting against the cuff of my sleeve as if anchoring himself to my presence.

At the head of the table sat Nathan.

He hadn't touched his black coffee. Instead, his dark, calculating eyes remained fixed on me, tracking every movement of my hands. The raw authority radiating from him was suffocating, filling the room with the crushing weight of an Alpha sizing up an unknown threat.

"He wouldn't let three pediatric specialists near his room," Nathan said, his deep voice slicing through the quiet. "Yet within twenty-four hours, you have him eating breakfast at the main table."

"Children need patience, Mr. Sterling," I replied, keeping my voice steady while my heart pounded against my ribs. "Not demands."

Nathan leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. The sudden shift closed the distance between us, bringing the sharp scent of cedar and cold rain dangerously close. His gaze dropped to my throat, then back to my eyes, intense and probing.

"Patience doesn't explain the way he looks at you," he murmured, his tone dropping an octave. "Who are you really, Claire?"

A jolt of adrenaline shot through my veins. Did he suspect the blood bond? Did he know about the birthmark?

Before I could answer, the heavy double doors of the dining room swung open.

"Nathan, darling! You won't believe the traffic on the bridge!"

A woman swept into the room, wrapped in a pastel designer trench coat and carrying an oversized gift box wrapped in metallic gold foil. Her glossy curls bounced with every step, and her face was painted in flawless, delicate makeup.

Jessica Vance.

Nathan’s childhood friend and the daughter of one of the city’s most influential council families.

"Jessica," Nathan said, leaning back into his chair as the heavy atmosphere shattered. "You're early."

"I couldn't wait another minute to see my favorite little guy," she purred, walking straight past me as if I were a piece of cheap furniture. She dropped the gleaming gold box onto the table with a heavy thud, right beside Noah's plate.

Then her eyes flicked to me. For one strange second, recognition flashed there before her gaze narrowed into sharp slits.

"Nathan," she said, her sweet tone turning instantly brittle. "Why is the new help sitting at the family table? It's bad enough the agency sent someone dressed like a charity worker, but surely she knows her place."

"Claire is Noah's governess," Nathan answered smoothly. "She eats with him."

Jessica's painted smile tightened at the corners, but she quickly recovered, turning her attention down to the boy.

"Look what Auntie Jessica brought you, Noah," she cooed, leaning over the table and opening the box to reveal a limited-edition, gold-plated remote-controlled supercar. "Your uncle had to pull strings in Geneva just to get this one. It’s the only one in the country."

She shoved the heavy metal toy directly in front of Noah's face, blocking his view of his breakfast. "Say thank you, sweetheart. Give Auntie a hug."

Noah didn't reach for the glittering car. He didn't even look at it.

His small jaw clenched, his posture stiffening as the strong, synthetic floral perfume wafting from Jessica invaded his space. When she reached out to pinch his cheek, Noah snapped.

With a sudden, furious shove, Noah slapped both hands against the gold toy.

The heavy metal car slid across the polished wood and crashed over the edge, shattering against the marble floor with a violent, echoing crack. Small plastic gears and broken gold paneling scattered across the tiles.

Jessica gasped, jumping back in horror. "My God! Noah!"

Noah ignored her completely. He spun in his chair, threw both arms around my waist, and buried his face deep into my side. His tiny hands clutched my cotton shirt so tightly his knuckles turned white.

"Claire," he whimpered softly, trembling against me.

My arms came around him instinctively. I rested my hand on his back, smoothing his hair while meeting Jessica's furious glare.

"He doesn't like loud noises or crowded spaces," I said calmly. "Especially during meals."

Jessica’s face turned an ugly shade of crimson. She stared at the wreckage of the five-thousand-dollar toy on the floor, then at the child clinging to me like a lifeline.

"You spoiled little—" Jessica caught herself, glancing sharply at Nathan before softening her expression into a wounded pout. "Nathan, he's completely out of control. This woman is clearly encouraging his bad behavior."

Nathan picked up his coffee cup, his expression unreadable, though a faint flicker of amusement touched the corner of his mouth.

"Noah made his preference clear," Nathan said dryly.

Before Jessica could argue, Nathan's phone buzzed against the table. He glanced at the screen, his demeanor instantly turning to business. He stood up, buttoning his suit jacket in one swift motion.

"The board meeting was moved up," Nathan said, looking at me. "Keep him in the nursery this morning. Don't let him skip lunch."

"Understood, Mr. Sterling," I said.

Nathan grabbed his briefcase and strode out of the dining hall. The heavy oak doors clicked shut behind him, leaving a suffocating silence in his wake.

The moment Nathan's footsteps faded down the hall, the hurt, delicate expression on Jessica's face vanished entirely.

She rounded the table, stopping two feet from my chair. Her eyes were venomous, stripped of every ounce of sweetness.

"Do you think you're clever?" Jessica hissed, her voice dropping into a harsh rasp. "You think because a broken, mute kid touched your hand, you actually matter in this house?"

I kept my hand gently resting on Noah's trembling back, refusing to flinch. "I'm doing the job Mr. Sterling hired me for, Miss Thorne."

"You're a temporary distraction," she spat, stepping closer. "Nathan is going to marry me. This manor, this family, and that boy will belong to me. A stray like you won't last a week."

She pointed a manicured finger toward the service corridor behind the kitchen.

"The head housekeeper is off today," Jessica commanded coldly. "The third-floor library and the west terrace haven't been scrubbed in a month. You will take the heavy brushes and clean every inch of the stone flooring by hand before noon."

"My contract is for Noah's care," I replied evenly, meeting her glare head-on. "Not manual estate labor."

"Your contract is whatever I say it is while Nathan is gone," she sneered, leaning down until she was inches from my face. "Refuse, and I will tell Nathan you were physically rough with Noah while he was in the bath last night. Whose word do you think he'll believe? His future wife's, or an agency nobody?"

My inner wolf bristled, a hot surge of anger flaring in my chest. Every instinct screamed at me to tear into the arrogant socialite standing over me.

Then I felt Noah's small heart beating rapidly against my ribs.

I looked down at his dark curls, remembering the howling wolf crest stamped on his shoulder blade. My son was alive, breathing, and sitting in my lap. If I got fired now, if I was thrown out of these gates, I would lose the only chance I had to uncover who stole my baby five years ago and how he ended up in Nathan Sterling's hands.

I swallowed the fiery pride burning in my throat and forced my hands to relax.

"Fine," I said, my voice low, cold, and steady. "I'll clean the terrace."

Jessica smirked in triumph, turning on her heel toward the grand foyer. "Make sure it sparkles, nanny. You've got a lot of dirt to wash away."

I held Noah tighter as she walked away, my eyes narrowing in the morning light.

Let her think she had won. I would scrub every stone in this estate if it meant staying close to my son—and once I found the truth, no one in this house would be able to stand in my way.