The Alpha's Four Hidden Heirs (Natalie and Samuel) novel Chapter 86

**The City That Drowned in the Sound of Its Own Heartbeat**
by Erynd Cal DusK 86

**NATALIE.**

Following my meeting with Hans, he remained true to his word. Without delay, he sent over the contracts I had requested, along with the documents that would place me in control of all the artists signed under Crown Entertainment. As I meticulously reviewed each page, a sense of satisfaction washed over me when I confirmed that everything was in order. With a few swift clicks, I electronically signed the papers and sent them back to him, feeling a surge of empowerment.

Eager to discuss my plans, I quickly arranged a meeting with Yandel and Ross. Their assistance was crucial, and I knew they would be instrumental in executing my strategy.

We decided to meet for dinner at Spago, an upscale restaurant nestled in the heart of Dellmoor. Its reputation for attracting celebrities and high-profile clients made it the perfect venue for our clandestine gathering. However, I felt the weight of caution pressing down on me. I couldn’t risk walking in with my true identity, nor could I rely on the familiar mask I often wore.

Instead, I chose a different disguise—another mask that, unlike my usual one, radiated allure and intrigue. It drew attention, but in a way that felt enticing rather than threatening. I slipped it on, admiring the reflection in the mirror before stepping out of my house.

The drive to the restaurant took about twenty minutes, the streets of Dellmoor buzzing with life. As I parked my car, I felt a mix of excitement and anxiety churning within me.

Upon entering Spago, a waiter promptly approached and guided me to a secluded area where Ross and Yandel were already seated, their expressions a blend of anticipation and curiosity.

Yandel was the first to rise, his face lighting up as he spotted me. “Boss, it’s so good to see you! It feels like ages since we last met,” he exclaimed, his voice slightly trembling with nerves.

“Relax, Yandel. I’m not angry with you anymore,” I reassured him, watching as he exhaled a sigh of relief, his tension visibly melting away.

“Oh, thank goodness!” he replied, a hint of dramatics coloring his tone. I couldn’t help but smile at his over-the-top reactions.

Ross, however, was more perplexed. He stood up, a frown creasing his brow as he scrutinized my face. “Yandel, are you sure this is our boss? She looks different,” he remarked, confusion etched across his features.

“It’s me, Ross,” I said, gently lifting the mask from my face. The shock that washed over him was almost comical, his mouth dropping open in disbelief.

“Yara…” he trailed off, still grappling with the revelation, and I offered him a reassuring smile.

“Take a seat, Ross. Let me explain everything,” I urged, and he complied, still staring at me with wide, astonished eyes.

“I am Natalie. The face you’ve known before was merely a mask. This—this is my true face,” I clarified, allowing the weight of my words to sink in.

“But you look just like Yara,” he responded, his bewilderment palpable.

“Yes, I know. That’s because she’s my twin sister,” I explained, watching as his expression shifted from confusion to shock.

“I’ve heard whispers about you, but I dismissed them as mere gossip since Yara never mentioned you,” he confessed, his voice tinged with disbelief.

“That’s actually a brilliant idea, Ross,” I acknowledged, impressed by his insight.

“Thank you, boss,” he replied, a smile breaking across his face.

“However, I want that control explicitly stated in writing, unless it’s already included in her contract. We need to ensure we have the upper hand,” I emphasized.

“I’ll review the contract, and if it’s not there, I’ll make sure to add it,” he assured me.

“Great. Also, I need you to secure these herbs and drugs,” I instructed, listing them off as Yandel diligently wrote them down.

“If you find out they’re available, buy them immediately—no matter the cost,” I insisted, my determination unwavering. Hans was a good man, and he deserved a long life with his wife. I would do everything in my power to ensure that happened.

“Sure thing, boss. How about a toast?” Ross suggested, pulling out a bottle. “I know you don’t drink, but this is a vintage 1979, Cardon Bleu.”

“Alright, just one glass won’t hurt,” I conceded, and he poured each of us a glass, the rich aroma wafting through the air.

“To the downfall of Yara Nichols!” we all shouted in unison, clinking our glasses together, the sound echoing like a promise of the battles yet to come.