After I left, the twin Alphas went crazy novel Chapter 29

The driver took me to the outskirts of town, to a place called Riha Street. The moment we arrived, I could feel the oppression in the air. The street was in a state of decay—garbage littered every corner, the smell of rot and desperation hung thick. Broken-down buildings leaned against one another as though waiting to collapse. People huddled in doorways, their eyes following the limousine as it made its way down the narrow road. The contrast between the sleek, polished vehicle and the slums couldn’t have been starker. I stepped out, and all eyes were on me.

It's rare for a beautiful young woman to appear in this place, and when she does, she's prey to everyone, which is why I was targeted in my last life.

My driver growled lowly a few times at the hobos who were probing towards my side, carrying a very powerful pressure. The hobos withdrew their gazes in fear.

I felt warm inside. My brother Ethan had always valued my safety, and the drivers who came to transport me were powerful warriors in the pack who could ensure that I was not in any danger.

We walked down the street, searching for Lirian. But he was nowhere to be seen. Following my memory, I found the small, rundown building where Lirian had once lived. The door was locked, and dust had settled thickly over everything. It had been abandoned for some time.

I handed a few coins to the children playing on the street, hoping for answers. One of them, a sharp-eyed boy, stepped forward. “The man who lived here?” he asked, glancing at the dilapidated building. “He left a few days ago. A fancy car picked him up. Haven’t seen him since.”

I was startled. A limousine? Who could have taken Lirian, and why? This deviation in his life confused me. In my past life, things hadn’t gone this way. Not finding him as I had expected left me feeling strangely low, a hollow sensation settling in my chest.

I returned to the car, feeling heavy. The thought of seeing Ethan later lifted my spirits a little. Maybe things would feel lighter once I was back at the packhouse.

When I arrived home, the head maid, Clara, met me at the entrance. She was a thin woman with cold eyes, quick to calculate anyone’s worth. As I stepped out, she rushed forward, a false smile plastered on her face. But I knew better. She wasn’t here for me.