135 Two Weeks Later 1-1
Lucian
Mara and I had been spending most of our time indoors. I’d scaled back my work-intentionally. She was
carrying our child, and there was no way I was letting her go through it alone. I wanted to be there for every moment, every mood swing, every scan, every ounce of discomfort. So I cleared my schedule and
made being with her the priority.
And somehow, that led to me becoming the unofficial chauffeur for Tiffany’s checkups too.
It wasn’t a burden. Mara and Tiffany had grown close, and honestly, it was good for both of them. But every time I saw the way Mara smiled when Tiffany was around-or how easily they talked, like sisters who’d skipped the awkward phase-I felt a small ache. Mara would miss her when she left. Deeply.
I hoped she wouldn’t leave. I hoped Darian would stop acting like a damn fool and give her a reason to
stay.
He was trying. I’ll give him that. He’d started showing up again, making small efforts to be present, but from where I stood, it all seemed half-hearted. Tiffany was emotionally done. She smiled politely, played nice for Mara’s sake, but her mind was already elsewhere. The bags weren’t packed, but her spirit had
moved on.
I could’ve warned Darian. Told him she had one foot out the door. But maybe that wasn’t my place. Maybe he needed to see what it felt like when someone he cared about actually walked away. He fought harder when it came to Mara-and that alone told me everything.
In the meantime, Tiffany spent most of her days with us. Sometimes, she stayed the entire day. Mara was having a rougher pregnancy than we expected-morning sickness that often turned into all-day nausea, and she had trouble keeping food down. Dr. Ashley assured us it was normal, that every pregnancy is
different. Still, it wore Mara out.
Tiffany joked that hers was worse, and I believed her. The saddest part was, she had done it all alone. No partner, no support, no hand to hold when things got too heavy. That stuck with me. And it made me more determined to talk to Darian. If there was a chance to fix this-even a small one-he needed to take it
seriously before he lost her for good.
But there were other things gnawing at my focus.
Denis had uncovered more about Chase’s network, but the bastard was still a ghost-taunting us with
breadcrumbs that led nowhere. It felt like we were playing into his hands, chasing shadows while he watched. Smug.
What made it worse was the looming suspicion about my own father. There were too many gaps, too
many secrets buried under layers of half-truths. If he’d tried to pass off my mother’s wealth as his own, what else had he hidden? I couldn’t ignore the feeling that he knew exactly what he’d stolen-and why.
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135 Two Weeks Later 1-1
My mother must’ve known, too. She left everything to me for a reason. She didn’t trust him.
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That thought kept resurfacing-especially at night, when I couldn’t sleep. Why had she been poisoned?
Who had done it, and why? I couldn’t ignore the possibility that the answers to all our problems started
with her death.
So I made a decision. I would dig into it-quietly, thoroughly. I needed the truth. About Chase. About my father. About my mother’s death. Because every piece we uncovered was a step closer to understanding
the bigger game at play.
And right now, we were all being played.
I left Mara that morning with a kiss on her forehead and a quiet promise: “I won’t be long.” She was still curled up under the covers, exhausted from a long night of throwing up. The pregnancy had been hard on her, and I didn’t want to pull her into today’s meeting-even though she was one of the sharpest minds we
had.
We were gathering at headquarters-just a few of us. High-ranking military and intelligence only. I wished Mara could be there. Her instincts, her analysis, her ability to see through chaos-she had a way of spotting what the rest of us missed. But she needed rest. I’d catch her up on everything later. For now,
we’d make do.
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135 Two Weeks Later 1-2
Rowan was already there when I arrived, going over strategy with Darian and Denis.
“Good morning, Alpha,” they greeted.
I nodded and joined them. It felt strange hearing my title like that from my own brother. Darian had taken up the Beta role without hesitation. He didn’t want to lead, same as me. The goddess had answered his prayers-at the cost of mine.
Denis got straight to it. “Cains and Whales Corp is registered under a man named Chase Nighthorn.”
The room went still.
“You’re joking,” I said.
“Not even a little. Male. Age fifty. Lives on Mistwood Island,” Denis continued, his tone grim. “We need to send a team there. Discreetly. See if the trail actually leads to something this time.”
Rowan shook his head. “Or it’s another breadcrumb. Or worse-a trap. We should only follow it if every
other lead dries up.”
“What if we’re overthinking this?” Darian asked. “What if the guy is really there?”
I rubbed the back of my neck, the weight of the decision already forming. “If he’s making it this easy to find him, he’s either sloppy-or he wants us to come. Either way, we treat Mistwood as viable, but not primary. If we go, it’ll be a small, silent team. No exposure.”
Right then, Darian’s phone buzzed. Once. Twice. Then it wouldn’t stop.
“Answer it,” I told him.
He hesitated, clearly debating whether to ignore it.
“Go ahead,” I said. “We’ll wait.”
He finally picked up-and then shot to his feet.
“Tiffany’s in labor. Mara’s with her. They’re at the hospital.”
I was already on my feet before he finished the sentence. Within minutes, someone brought the car around. I took the keys before he could.
“You’re not driving in this state,” I said, and he didn’t argue.
As we pulled out, I glanced over. His foot was tapping, nerves spilling out through every muscle.
“You need to calm down,” I said. “Panicking isn’t going to help her.”
He ran his hand through his hair, eyes locked on the road ahead.
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