2

Hazel POV

I didn’t reply to Brielle’s message. There wasn’t time. My brother was rotting in a dungeon cell, and my mom was lying in a hospital bed, too weak to even sit up. Every second I wasted could cost Lucas everything. I shoved my phone in my pocket, flagged down the first taxi I saw, and told the driver, “Heavenly Hotel. Fast.”

The ride felt endless. My stomach twisted into knots the whole way. I kept seeing Lucas’s face—hollow cheeks, scared eyes—and Mom’s tears. I couldn’t let them down. I wouldn’t.

The Heavenly Hotel loomed ahead like something out of a dream. Six stars, glittering lights, the kind of place where rich wolves spent more in one night than we made in a year. Security was everywhere—cameras, guards, barriers. No way I’d get inside looking like this: jeans, old hoodie, hair messy from crying. So I slipped into the underground parking lot instead. I found a dark corner behind a pillar, squatted down, and waited.

Hours dragged by. My legs ached, my back hurt, but I didn’t move. I couldn’t. Midnight finally came, and that’s when I saw him.

A tall figure stepped out of the elevator, surrounded by four bodyguards in black suits. Even from far away, I knew it was him. Alpha Asher Royal. The man himself.

He wore a custom black suit that fit him perfectly—sharp lines, slim waist, long legs that made him look powerful and untouchable. From my spot, I could only see the side of his face, but it was enough. Sharp jaw, thick dark brows, a straight nose, thin lips pressed tight. He looked cold, arrogant, like the world bowed to him and he expected it. Anyone would feel small standing near him. I felt it too—my heart hammered so hard I thought it might burst.

But I had no choice.

I jumped up, ready to run toward him. My legs, numb from squatting so long, gave out. I stumbled, almost fell flat on my face. By the time I caught myself, he was already being ushered into the back of a sleek black Maybach. The doors closed. The engine purred to life.

No. No, no, no.

I sprinted out from my hiding spot, legs burning, lungs screaming. The car was moving toward the exit ramp. I threw myself into the middle of the lane, right in its path.

“Stop the car!” I waved my arms like a crazy person. “Stop!”

The Maybach screeched to a halt, tires inches from my knees. Less than a meter away. My whole body shook.

From the backseat, a deep, cold voice snapped, “What’s going on?”

The driver sounded terrified. “I’m sorry, Mr. Royal. Someone’s blocking the way.”

Alpha Asher narrowed his eyes and looked straight at me through the tinted windshield. Even in the dark, I felt those eyes like knives. “Get out and deal with it.”

The doors opened. Two huge bodyguards stepped out, towering over me.

“Who are you?” one barked. “Why are you stopping the car?”

Fear clawed at my throat. They were massive, muscles bulging under their suits. But I thought of Lucas—his hoarse voice begging me to save him—and I lifted my chin.

“I want to see Alpha Asher,” I said, voice shaking but loud. “I need to talk to him. Please tell him it’s urgent. Just five minutes.”

The guards exchanged looks. One snorted. “Our Alpha doesn’t meet strangers. Move.”

“I have important business with him,” I insisted. “It won’t take long. Please.”

“What’s taking so long?” The voice from inside the car cut through again, sharper now, edged with anger.

I could tell he was drunk—there was a slight slur, a rough impatience. He’d probably spent the night drinking with powerful people, and now he just wanted to go home. I didn’t care. I wasn’t moving.

Another man got out—taller, slimmer, wearing glasses. Must be his assistant. Ronald, I think. He walked up to me, calm at first.

“Miss, if this is business, you can make an appointment at Royal Corporations,” he said, almost kindly. “Please don’t block the way.”

I shook my head. “It’s not business. It’s about my brother’s case. Please. Just tell him I need to talk to him.”

Ronald blinked, then softened a little. But the bodyguards weren’t having it. They stepped forward, grabbed my arms, and started pulling me aside.

“Let me go!” I screamed, twisting and kicking. “Let go!”

Inside the car, Alpha Asher’s patience snapped. “Drive.”

The engine revved. The car rolled forward again.

Something inside me broke.

My brother was innocent. They’d framed him because of this man—this cold, ruthless Alpha King. I’d tried to be polite, respectful. I’d begged. But they didn’t care. None of them did.

Rage flooded me, hot and wild.

“You bastard!” I yelled.

With a strength I didn’t know I had, I jerked free of the bodyguards’ grip. My hand dove into my bag, yanked out the half-full water bottle I’d been carrying all day. I didn’t think. I just acted.

I hurled it straight through the open window.

It hit him perfectly—right on the head. Water exploded over his face, soaking his hair, dripping down his suit.

The air inside the car went dead silent.

The bodyguards froze. The driver slammed on the brakes. Ronald spun around, eyes wide.

“Mr. Royal… are you all right?” he asked, voice shaking.

I stood there, breathing hard, chest heaving. Alpha Asher lifted his head slowly. Water dripped from his dark hair, ran down his sharp cheekbones. His eyes—those cold, dark eyes—locked onto mine.

A deep furrow creased between his brows. His jaw clenched so tight I thought his teeth might crack. Fury rolled off him like heat from a fire.

“Seize that damn woman!”