My Alphas' Dark Desires novel Chapter 57

Chapter 57: Keeping Him in Check

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Chapter 57

~Dristan’s POV~

I stopped right in front of her, but she didn’t move. Brielle didn’t breathe either. The raw fear emanating from her was unbelievable.

She was trembling. I could hear it in the stutter of her heartbeat.

"I-I’m sorry, Alpha," she whispered in a barely audible voice. "I didn’t know you were around."

I frowned, arching my brow slowly. What the hell was she talking about?

"I already learned my lesson the last time," she added quickly. "Please don’t... don’t show me again. I—I swear, I’ve been good."

Show her what?

Before I could speak, before I could even process that weird, crawling thing clawing at the back of my mind, my name rang out behind me.

"Master Dristan."

I turned to see my chauffeur standing by the black SUV awaiting me.

"We must leave now. He’s waiting."

I looked back at Brielle. Her head was still down, fists clenched tightly by her sides like she was holding on to something only she could see.

I wanted to ask why, but I didn’t. Something told me the answer would open a door I wasn’t ready to walk through yet.

And frankly, what did she think she saw in me? Was I a monster now? I shrugged off the thought. Maybe it was better left buried.

Also, if she feared me for whatever reason, then it was better to leave it at that. I had been too lenient, letting just anyone think they could talk to me.

I turned without another word and headed for the car.

The door shut behind me and we drove out of the school premises, but at the back of my mind, her words replayed again.

"Don’t show me again..."

What the hell did she see, and what did I show her before?

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As soon as I stepped into the office, its usual air wrapped around me—cool, quiet and too clean. It was always the same each time I came here.

Minimalist but expensive, all glass and steel, with dark wood shelves that looked more decorative than used. The scent of his cologne still lingered, mixed with something older—burnt coffee maybe, or the faint sharpness of paint.

My gaze darted over to the source, a new painting hung on the left corner of his office.

There wasn’t a single thing out of place. Just like him, exactly how Father liked it.

I stepped inside without knocking. He already knew I was coming and expected me.

He stood by the tall window, staring out at the city skyline, hands behind his back, his dark tailored suit looking sharp enough to cut. He didn’t turn when I entered. Dad didn’t have to.

"Anything to report?" His voice was calm, the type of deadly cold calm that made your teeth gnash.

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