Mated To The Crippled Alpha-Chapter 151: My Husband And I

Grant understood Lincy’s intention almost instantly.

He had never meant for her to challenge me. In fact, he had expected her to embarrass herself. His gaze hardened as he looked at her and said flatly, "Enough. Go back."

Lincy froze.

In the past, when Grant spoke like that, his words were always aimed at me never at her. The realization hit her hard, and resentment flashed across her face.

"So what?" she snapped, eyes sharp. "As the Ashbourne daughter, you can’t even play the violin? What a joke."

I smiled faintly, calm on the surface. "Actually, I don’t know how to play the violin."

Camilla was here tonight too. I could feel her eyes on me somewhere in the crowd, quietly watching, waiting for a crack. The last time I forced myself to perform, old habits nearly slipped through. I wasn’t about to expose myself again.

Still, I couldn’t tolerate Lincy making a scene in front of everyone.

She laughed bitterly and turned to Grant. "Dad, look at Riley. She doesn’t have to do anything. She just looks pretty and marries well. I work so hard, and you still don’t like me. How is that fair?"

Her words landed loudly.

Even though no one dared speak, the blame she placed on me lingered in the air. I knew how fast whispers spread. If I stayed silent, I would become the decorative wife people talked about over tea pretty, useless, replaceable.

That wouldn’t just hurt me.

It would stain the Ashbourne name.

Lincy didn’t understand that reputation was shared. In the past, Grant had indulged her. But now, in this new territory he was trying to dominate, her recklessness only dragged him down.

For a brief moment, I sensed something dark ripple through Grant cold, sharp, dangerous. If Lincy pushed any further, no one would be able to protect her.

Before things could spiral, I stepped forward.

"Today, we’re honored by everyone’s presence," I said clearly, my voice steady. "As the host, I should express my gratitude."

The room quieted.

"I’m not skilled with the violin," I continued calmly, "but my husband taught me how to play the piano. If you don’t mind, my husband and I would like to perform something for you. Please don’t laugh."

This wasn’t a challenge.

It was control.

The guests weren’t foolish. They knew when to applaud and when to stay silent.

Grant and my mum exchanged uneasy looks. I turned to my mom and gave her a reassuring smile. "It’s fine."

Then I reached for Lewis’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Shall we play together?"

I caught the brief flicker of surprise in his eyes before he relaxed and answered easily, "Sure."

With Theo’s help, Lewis took a seat beside me at the piano.

"What should we play?" he asked softly.

"The Wind Rises," I said.

He raised a brow. "Only if there’s sheet music."

Theo moved quickly, retrieving it at once.

Lincy crossed her arms and scoffed. "No wonder you chose the piano. Relying on someone else again? Playing a few notes and calling it yours?"

"Enough," Grant snapped coldly, his patience finally gone.

Ever since Lincy tried to drag Yenik into the Hudson mess, she had been skating on thin ice. And she was still testing it.

Theo handed over the music. Lewis skimmed it once, eyes sharp, memory flawless.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Yes."

This wasn’t our first duet.

As my fingers touched the keys, the sound pulled me backward in time back to when I was eight years old.

The sun had been blazing outside. Cicadas filled the air. I followed the sound of piano music up the winding stairs of the Bolton residence, all the way to the attic.

When I opened the door, the wind rushed in through the open window, white curtains lifting and falling gently. Sunlight poured in, bathing the young man in white as he sat before the black piano, fingers moving effortlessly across the keys.

That moment bright, quiet, unreal had carved itself into my memory forever.

Now, as Lewis’s fingers pressed the keys beside mine, our gazes met.

Time seemed to fold back on itself.

For a breath, I felt as though we were standing in that same afternoon years ago the moment our paths first crossed, before the world hardened us, before choices carved scars into our lives.

Lewis’s hand covered mine gently. He guided my fingers across the keys, steady and calm. Under his touch, the piano felt alive, as if it recognized him. Each note responded smoothly, rising and falling like a shared heartbeat.

We had never played this piece together before.

And yet, there was no hesitation.

Our hands moved as if they had practiced this a thousand times. No signals. No reminders. Just understanding.

The melody carried a quiet longing.

It spoke of first wonder of staring at the sky and believing it was close enough to reach. Of daring to suffer, just to relive a single perfect moment.

It spoke of wandering through the world, still amazed by it. Of turning back through memory and finding yourself lost in a smile you never forgot.

The notes softened, then lifted again, like youth stretched into something timeless. Like summer held between two hands and played into existence.

When the final sound faded, the hall fell completely silent.

No one moved.

Then, all at once, applause broke out. Loud. Unrestrained. It washed over us like a wave.

I never thought that after all these years, our first duet would feel so... whole.

I never understood how powerful it would look Lewis and I seated side by side, not performing, but connected.

In that moment, I saw Julian.

Tears filled his eyes.

Some people watched quietly, emotion shining openly on their faces. Others looked at me as if seeing a ghost of someone they once loved. The Morrigans family stared, stunned, as though I carried a reflection of Elena, and they wondered what might have been if fate had been kinder.

No one looked at Lewis’s legs.

No one thought of me as decoration.

Lincy stood frozen, disbelief written across her face. She had come tonight convinced the orchestra existed to lift her higher, to crown her.

But what Lewis and I shared wasn’t something you could rehearse.

Our presence intertwined. Our focus aligned. The music came from somewhere deeper than technique.

It wasn’t a classical masterpiece.

It wasn’t complicated.

It was a song people knew.

And still, it moved them to tears.

The applause grew louder, more urgent.

Only music that carries truth can reach people like that not the cold repetition of notes, not empty perfection.

I felt Grant’s gaze settle on me.

It was different this time. No dismissal. No distance.

For the first time, he looked at me fully and said, clearly, "Well played."

"Thank you," I replied.

If the old Riley were still here, she would have cried. All she ever wanted was her father’s attention. One kind word.

Lincy broke the moment with a sharp voice. "How do you even know how to play the piano?"

I smiled, slow and calm. "My husband taught me."

She opened her mouth to speak again

And the doors swung open.

Uniformed officers stepped inside.

Something inside me went cold. I knew, deep down, that Nelson’s team had found what they were looking for.

Lincy, completely unaware of the danger closing in, stood her ground.

Grant frowned. "What is this? No one reported anything."

The officers flashed their badges. "Mr. Ashbourne, we believe your daughter, Lincy Ashbourne, may be involved in a vehicle incident. We need her to come with us for questioning."

Grant stiffened. "What incident?"

Nelson stepped forward, his voice slow and heavy.

"Nolan Morrigan’s death is linked to your daughter."

The room froze.

Every member of the Morrigans family turned sharply toward him.

Vivian rushed forward, panic breaking through her composure.

"Captain Tucker, what are you saying? My son wasn’t in an accident... are you saying he was murdered?"

The silence that followed was suffocating.