The Alpha Heir Who Put a Baby in His Enemy

The first sign that something was wrong came while three hundred people were watching me pretend that nothing in the world could shake me.

Heat gathered beneath my collar and spread slowly across the back of my neck.

I kept my expression calm.

Across the ballroom, cameras flashed beneath crystal chandeliers while investors, politicians, journalists, and corporate heirs celebrated Vale Dominion’s largest acquisition of the year. Behind me, the silver emblem of my family’s company dominated the stage.

Tonight was supposed to prove that I was ready to inherit everything.

Instead, my own body was beginning to betray me.

“Mr. Vale?”

The reporter standing in front of me tilted her head.

“My apologies,” I said smoothly. “You were asking about Northbridge.”

“I was asking about Ronan Ashcroft.”

Of course she was.

That name had followed me through business school, boardrooms, hostile negotiations, and nearly every major deal I had touched in the last five years.

Ronan Ashcroft.

Alpha heir to Ashcroft Global.

My greatest corporate rival.

The reporter smiled. “Analysts believe Mr. Ashcroft personally interfered with your Northbridge expansion. Do you consider him a threat?”

“No.”

The answer came without hesitation.

Lying had always come easily to me.

My entire life depended on it.

The world knew me as Adrian Vale, twenty-seven-year-old Alpha heir to Vale Dominion and only son of Chairman Theodore Vale.

They saw confidence.

Authority.

Control.

They saw the kind of man who had been raised to inherit billions.

What they did not know was that I had never been an Alpha.

I had been born an Omega.

My designation was hidden before I was old enough to understand what the word meant. Doctors were paid, documents were changed, and by the time the public learned Theodore Vale had a son, that son had already been transformed into the Alpha heir the family required.

For twenty-seven years, the lie had survived.

Another wave of heat tightened low in my abdomen.

My fingers clenched around my champagne glass.

“My company does not build its future around Ronan Ashcroft’s decisions,” I told the reporter. “If Ashcroft Global wants to compete with us, they are welcome to try.”

“And if he succeeds?”

I smiled.

“He won’t.”

Several journalists laughed.

Exactly what I wanted.

Confidence was believable.

Weakness was dangerous.

I handed my glass to a waiter before anyone noticed the slight tremor in my fingers.

My suppressant should have lasted another forty-eight hours.

I had taken the injection that morning.

It had never failed before.

That frightened me more than the heat.

“Excuse me.”

I stepped away from the reporters.

Marcus, my assistant, intercepted me immediately.

“You’re due onstage in eleven minutes.”

“Move the announcement.”

His eyebrows lifted.

“Sir?”

“I need twenty minutes.”

Marcus studied me carefully.

“Is something wrong?”

“No.”

Another lie.

“Handle it.”

“Of course.”

I crossed the ballroom without rushing.

Powerful men did not flee.

They simply left when something more important demanded their attention.

Only when the executive corridor doors closed behind me did I loosen my tie.

My skin was burning now.

My pulse had accelerated.

Worse, another scent had begun breaking through the expensive cologne I wore specifically to confuse sensitive Alpha noses.

Sweet.

Warm.

Omega.

Fear tightened my chest.

I entered the nearest private lounge and locked the door.

My breathing sounded too loud in the silence.

I reached inside my jacket and removed the small silver case I carried everywhere.

Emergency suppressant.

One injection could stop an early heat before it became impossible to hide.

I opened the case.

Relief vanished immediately.

The seal around the injector was broken.

I stared at it.

That was impossible.

My physician prepared every dose personally. The medication remained locked until I used it, and only a handful of people even knew what the injections were truly for.

I lifted the injector beneath the light.

A thin scratch marked the casing.

Someone had opened it.

My blood went cold.

Another wave of heat rolled through me so violently that I gripped the edge of the table.

This was not a normal suppressant failure.

Someone had tampered with my medication.

A knock sounded at the door.

Every muscle in my body tightened.

“Adrian.”

I stopped breathing.

There were hundreds of men in this building tonight.

It had to be him.

Ronan Ashcroft’s voice carried through the door, calm and irritatingly confident.

“Open the door.”

I forced myself upright.

“Go away, Ronan.”

A quiet laugh followed.

“You disappear from your own celebration minutes before the biggest announcement of your career, and you expect me not to become curious?”

“My life does not exist for your entertainment.”

“Usually, I would agree.”

Usually.

Something in his tone changed.

Then he went silent.

I looked toward the door.

My scent.

If it was strong enough for me to notice, Ronan could smell it.

He was one of the strongest Alphas I had ever encountered.

I grabbed the injector despite the damaged seal.

Whatever remained inside might still help.

The needle touched my skin.

Then Ronan spoke again.

His voice was no longer amused.

“Adrian, what is that scent?”

Fear moved through me faster than the heat.

A metallic click came from the lock.

My head snapped toward the door.

“Don’t.”

The handle turned.

I backed away as Ronan entered.

He wore a black tuxedo that made him look exactly like what he was: wealthy, powerful, dangerous, and far too observant.

His eyes moved from my face to the injector in my hand.

Then his nostrils flared.

Once.

That was all it took.

Twenty-seven years of secrecy collapsed inside a single breath.

Ronan closed the door behind him and locked it.

For several seconds, neither of us spoke.

His gaze settled on mine.

“You’re not an Alpha.”

I said nothing.

His attention dropped to the damaged injector.

He stepped closer.

“And whatever is inside that syringe,” he said quietly, “do not put it into your body.”

My fingers tightened around the injector.

Ronan’s expression hardened.

“Because someone didn’t just sabotage your suppressant, Adrian.”

My stomach turned cold.

He looked directly into my eyes.

“Someone wanted your heat to begin tonight.”