Bound To The Broken Alpha (Amy and Daniel) novel Chapter 26

**Chapter 26: And If I Refuse?**

**CLARA**

He remained silent for a moment, his gaze piercing through the rim of his glass as he took a slow sip of his drink. “Let’s just say that Amy’s little fairytale marriage won’t stand a chance against the storm that’s brewing. And when that storm hits, people like you will be faced with a choice.”

I felt a chill run down my spine as I processed his words. Each syllable seemed to pull me deeper into a tempest of confusion and uncertainty. “And what exactly do I gain from this?” I finally managed to ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

A smirk curled at the corners of his lips. “Power. Position. The respect you’ve always deserved. I can ensure that the Carter name continues to thrive, albeit under new leadership.”

I paused, a flicker of doubt igniting within me. It all sounded far too simple, rehearsed even. Yet, there was an undeniable undertone in his voice—something about the term “new leadership” that piqued my curiosity.

“Who are you really?” I pressed, my tone softer, almost pleading.

His expression shifted, the playful smile fading into something more serious. “Names are irrelevant at this stage. What truly matters is that we share a common goal: getting rid of Amy.”

Inside me, my wolf stirred with unease, pacing restlessly. There was an air of something ancient about him, something that suggested he was more than just a rival from another pack.

I shook off the unsettling thought. “If I agree to this, what comes next?”

He slid a small, unmarked black card across the table. It bore no writing, no logo—only a faint golden crest nestled in one corner, a symbol I couldn’t place.

“When the moment is right, you’ll receive further instructions,” he said coolly. “Until then, maintain your façade as the perfect model while the real wolves prepare for action.”

I stared at the card, my mind racing, before finally picking it up. “And if I refuse?”

His smile returned, though it felt more predatory this time. “You won’t refuse. Your hatred for her runs too deep.”

He rose from his seat, adjusting his suit with a casual grace. “Enjoy your drink, Ms. Clara. Our paths will cross again soon.”

I watched him exit, my instincts torn between an unsettling curiosity and a gnawing dread. As he slipped through the back door, I glanced down at the card in my hand. The golden crest shimmered faintly, revealing a crescent moon entwined with a claw.

I tucked it into my bag, standing up to leave. But just as I turned, one of the waiters brushed past me, whispering urgently, “You shouldn’t have come here.”

I froze, my heart racing.

When I turned back, the waiter had vanished.

—

**AMY**

1/3

I couldn’t even begin to fathom how long I had been staring at my phone before the reality of the situation hit me. It all started with a notification from Snapchat—a tag in a story. Then another, and soon, dozens more flooded in.

Initially, I assumed it was about the company gala from the previous week, perhaps one of those “Luna fashion” pages that had been obsessively posting my pictures. But as I tapped to open the notification, my breath caught in my throat.

It was a video. Of me… or at least, it certainly looked like me.

In the footage, I was in a hotel room, barely dressed, locked in a kiss with a man who was not Daniel. The angle, the lighting—it all felt too real, too vivid. My heart plummeted. The background, my hair, my face, even the small scar near my collarbone—it was all there, perfectly captured. Too perfectly.

The caption read: “So this is the real Luna of the Northern Territory? Sleeping her way to the top?”

My stomach churned violently.

Within moments, I opened Instagram, then X. The same clip was rampant, spreading like wildfire. It was being reposted, edited, slowed down, and zoomed in on. Each version amassed thousands of comments within minutes.

“I knew she was fake.”

“Poor Daniel. She’s a disgrace.”

“She’s just a social climber.”

I unlocked my phone once more, scrolling through the comments. Clara had reposted the clip with three simple words:

“Can’t hide forever.”

And Mark had liked it.

A shaky laugh escaped my lips, tinged with bitterness. “Of course.”

When we arrived at the building, darkness enveloped the exterior, save for the faint glow of security lights. I strode past the guards, flashing my ID with determination. They hesitated, uncertainty flickering across their faces, but ultimately, they didn’t stop me.

The elevator ride to the tenth floor felt eerily silent, the weight of my thoughts pressing down on me. As I stepped out, the entire floor lay deserted, the offices devoid of their usual hustle and bustle. Only the hum of the lights and the faint clicking of the ventilation system broke the stillness.

I made a beeline for the IT department’s control room.

“Who’s on duty?” I demanded as I pushed the door open.

One of the junior techs nearly leaped from his chair, eyes wide with surprise. “Luna—I mean, Mrs. Carter. We weren’t expecting—”

“Spare me the pleasantries. Show me where the leak originated,” I interrupted, urgency lacing my voice.

He gulped, turning to his screen. “We traced it to an encrypted email sent from within the company network. There’s no external source. Whoever did this knows how to cover their tracks.”

I stepped closer, my heart racing. “Show me the IP log.”

He hesitated but eventually opened a file. My eyes darted across the endless codes and internal user IDs, each one blurring together until one caught my attention.

User ID: 4431-A.LIAISON

My position. My login.