Mated to My Fiancé’s Alpha King Brother

67 Chapter 67

Damien’s POV 1

When Caleb mentioned seeing Anna before, something sharp and urgent twisted in my chest. | leaned forward

slightly, my alpha

instincts suddenly on high alert.

“Where exactly did you see her?” | asked, my voice carefully controlled despite the storm brewing beneath the

surface.

Caleb stared out the window for what felt like an eternity, his brow creased in concentration. The city lights

streaked past us in blurs of gold and white, but he seemed completely oblivious to the scenery, lost in some

distant memory.

Caleb's fingers drummed against his thigh in an absent rhythm, his eyes still fixed on spoint beyond the

glass. Then suddenly, his

entire body went rigid.

“Oh my God,” he breathed, his hand flying to his forehead as if the memory had physically struck him. “Oh my

*God*, | can’t believe |

didn’t make the connection sooner!”

“What?” | leaned forward, every muscle in my body coiled tight. “What do you remember?”

“It was five years ago!” Caleb spun to face me, his eyes wide with the kind of shocked recognition that made my

stomach drop to

somewhere around my ankles. “Five years ago, at the Moonlight Grand Hotel!”

The Moonlight Grand. The shotel where I'd spent that unforgettable night with my mystery woman. The

shotel where I'd left

my pendant beside a sleeping figure I'd never been able to find again.

Telleverything,” | said, my voice coming out rougher than I'd intended. “Every single detail.”

Caleb ran both hands through his hair, his expression cycling between amazement and disgust as the memories

cflooding back. “I was there on a job-srich guy’s vintage Porsche had broken down in the hotel's

underground parking garage. Real piece of work,

that car. Tookmost of the night to get her running again.”

“Get to the point about Anna,” | interrupted, though my heart was already hammering against my ribs.

“Right, right!” Caleb waved a hand impatiently. “So there | was, around six in the morning, packing up my tools

and thinking about

breakfast, when this... *creature* cstumbling out of the hotel's service entrance.”

The way he said ‘creature’ made my lips twitch despite everything, “Creature?”

Caleb shuddered tically. “Picture this: a woman wearing what used to be a hotel cleaning uniform-you

know, those hideous

polyester things-except it looked like she’d been through a blender. Hair sticking up in every direction, makeup

smeared all over her

face... well, let's just say she looked rough.”

Caleb leaned back against the seat, his expression a mixture of horror and dark amusement. “The smell. Sweet

Jesus, the smell. It was

like someone had dumped an entire perffactory into a garbage disposal and then lit it on fire.”

Despite the growing knot of dread in my stomach, | found myself fighting back a laugh. “That bad?”

1036

1/3

<

67 Chapter 67

“Worse. I'm talking eye-watering, nose-burning, make-you-question-your-will-to-live levels of awful.” Caleb

gestured wildly with his

hands. “And tonight, when she leaned into the car window and batted her eyelashes at me, it was the exact

sscent. | swear | had

flashbacks.”

The humor drained from the moment as the implications hitfull force. “What was she doing outside the

hotel?”

He paused, seeming to gather his thoughts, then continued with the careful precision of someone recounting

important evidence.

“She was clutching something in her hands-something that caught the early morning light and threw it back in

these brilliant golden

flashes. At first, | thought maybe it was brass or scheap costjewelry, but when she got closer...” Caleb

shook his head slowly.

“Damien, it was beautiful. Intricate craftsmanship, obviously expensive. Real gold, unless | miss my guess.”

My mouth went completely dry. “A pendant?”

“A pendant,” Caleb confirmed, his eyes never leaving my face. “Shaped like a wolf, with incredibly detailed

engravings. The kind of work

you see in high-end jewelry stores, not clutched in the hands of a desperate hotel cleaning lady at dawn.”

The world tilted sideways. Everything | thought | knew about that night, about Anna, about the woman I'd been

searching for—all of it

crumbled like a house of cards in a hurricane.

“She was trying to sell it,” | said, though it cout more like a question, a desperate hope that somehow | was

wrong about what this

meant.

*#+Trying* to sell it?” Caleb let out a bark of bitter laughter. “Damien, she was practically throwing herself at

people’s feet, begging them

to buy it. | watched her approach at least six different people before she got to me, and the desperation on her

face...” He trailed off,

shaking his head. “It was ugly to watch.”

The leather armrest creaked under my grip. “What exactly did she say to you?”

“Oh, it was a real performance.” Caleb's voice took on a mocking, high-pitched tone as he mimicked Anna's

words. “Please, mister, | need the money for my sick grandmother's medicine! This belonged to my dear

departed aunt, but | have to sell it to pay for food! The whole

sob story, delivered with all the sincerity of a carnival barker.””

“And you didn’t buy it.”

“Hell no, | didn’t buy it!” Caleb looked atlike I'd suggested he juggle fire while riding a unicycle. “Damien, |

may have been young and broke, but | wasn’t born yesterday. Everything about that situation screamed ‘stolen

goods’ or ‘scam’ or both.”

Comment

10 384

Leave the first comment for this chapter.

2/3

<