Chapter Two — Behind the Locked Door

Ronan did not move.

Neither did I.

The space between us felt suddenly smaller than the room itself, as though every wall had shifted inward the moment he spoke.

Someone wanted your heat to begin tonight.

The words repeated inside my head with terrifying clarity.

I stared at the injector in my hand, then at Ronan.

“You don’t know that.”

His gaze dropped to the silver casing.

“I know enough.”

“You smelled me for five seconds and now you’re a medical expert?”

His mouth almost curved, but there was no amusement in his eyes.

“No. But I know what tampering looks like.”

I hated the calm certainty in his voice.

I hated even more that part of me believed him.

Another wave of heat moved through my body, sharper than before. My fingers tightened around the table until the polished wood pressed painfully into my palm.

Ronan noticed.

Of course he did.

His attention lowered to my hand, then returned to my face.

“How long?”

“I said I’m fine.”

“That wasn’t my question.”

“You don’t get to ask questions.”

“And yet here I am.”

I wanted to tell him to leave.

I wanted to throw the injector across the room and pretend the last five minutes had never happened.

Instead, my knees weakened.

I caught myself before I fell.

Ronan crossed the room instantly.

His hand closed around my upper arm.

The contact sent a violent reaction through me.

Heat.

Scent.

Instinct.

I jerked away as though he had burned me.

“Don’t touch me.”

His jaw tightened.

“Then stand.”

“I am standing.”

“Barely.”

I glared at him.

He did not look impressed.

That had always been one of the most infuriating things about Ronan Ashcroft. Other people reacted to power. They hesitated around my name, my position, my family.

Ronan never had.

He looked at me as though I were simply another opponent standing across from him.

Tonight, for the first time, I was terrified that he could see more than that.

His eyes returned to the injector.

“Give it to me.”

“No.”

“Adrian.”

“I said no.”

“You think I’m trying to steal your medication?”

“I think you’ve spent the last six years trying to take everything else.”

That landed.

For one brief second, something colder entered his expression.

Then it disappeared.

“Fine.”

He stepped back.

“Keep it.”

The lack of argument unsettled me more than a fight would have.

Ronan reached into his jacket and removed his phone.

I immediately straightened.

“Who are you calling?”

“No one yet.”

“Put it away.”

His eyes lifted.

“You are in active heat, your suppressant has been opened, and someone apparently knew exactly what medication to target. If you think I’m leaving you alone with that injector, you’ve mistaken me for an idiot.”

“You’re not staying.”

“Yes, I am.”

“You don’t have authority here.”

“Neither does whoever tampered with your medication, and apparently that hasn’t stopped them.”

I said nothing.

Ronan walked toward the door and checked the lock.

Then he crossed to the room’s secondary entrance.

Locked.

The windows.

Sealed.

He was assessing the room like a security officer.

“What are you doing?”

“Making sure no one else gets inside.”

“I don’t need protection.”

“You need something.”

The insult should have angered me.

Instead, another spasm tightened through my abdomen.

I turned away from him.

My scent was getting stronger.

That was the real danger.

If anyone entered now, there would be no believable explanation.

A male Omega in heat.

Inside Vale Dominion.

Hidden for twenty-seven years.

The scandal would destroy my father before midnight.

It would destroy me before morning.

I looked down at the injector again.

Ronan’s voice became quieter behind me.

“Don’t.”

I closed my eyes.

“You don’t know what’s inside.”

“And neither do you.”

“I need it.”

“You need your actual suppressant.”

“My physician is across the city.”

“Then call him.”

“No.”

“Why?”

Because my physician was the only person outside my family who knew the truth.

Because any unusual call could leave a record.

Because I had survived this long by never creating unnecessary witnesses.

I turned back to him.

“You’re already one witness too many.”

His expression changed.

Not guilt.

Not triumph.

Something harder to identify.

“You think I’m going to expose you.”

“I know you have every reason to.”

Ronan leaned against the edge of the desk.

“If I wanted Vale Dominion weakened, I could simply let you inject whatever is in that syringe.”

The sentence chilled me.

He nodded toward my hand.

“You collapse. Maybe worse. Your secret comes out anyway. Your board tears itself apart. Ashcroft Global benefits.”

I stared at him.

“Comforting.”

“I’m making a point.”

“And what point is that?”

“If I wanted to destroy you, Adrian, I would not be trying this hard to keep you alive.”

The room went silent.

I hated how much weight that sentence carried.

Ronan had always been ruthless in business.

He did not rescue competitors.

He did not protect enemies.

Yet he had locked himself inside a room with mine.

A dangerous thought began forming.

I pushed it away.

“You still haven’t explained how you recognized the injector was tampered with.”

Ronan did not answer immediately.

That pause was enough.

My suspicion sharpened.

“What do you know?”

“Not enough.”

“That is not an answer.”

“It’s the only one you’re getting until we know what’s in that cartridge.”

He extended his hand again.

This time, I looked at it.

Long fingers.

Steady.

An Alpha’s hand.

The kind I had spent my life avoiding whenever my suppressants weakened.

“Give me the injector,” he said.

I held his gaze for several seconds.

Then I placed it in his palm.

Ronan examined the casing carefully.

His expression hardened almost immediately.

“What?”

He rotated it.

Near the base was a narrow line I had not noticed.

A second seal.

Different adhesive.

Different manufacture.

Ronan looked at me.

“This cartridge was replaced.”

My stomach dropped.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

He removed the cartridge slowly.

A faint chemical scent escaped.

Ronan’s eyes narrowed.

“That isn’t suppressant.”

My pulse accelerated.

“Then what is it?”

He looked toward the door.

For the first time since entering, Ronan Ashcroft looked genuinely disturbed.

Before he could answer, someone knocked.

Three slow taps.

Ronan and I both froze.

“Mr. Vale?” Marcus called from outside. “Your father wants you downstairs.”

Ronan lifted one finger to his lips.

Then another voice spoke beyond the door.

A voice I did not recognize.

“Tell him there’s been an incident in the garage.”

My blood turned cold.

Marcus asked, “What kind of incident?”

The stranger hesitated.

Then answered.

“They found a body.”

Ronan’s gaze snapped to mine.

The cartridge remained between his fingers.

And suddenly, the sabotage no longer felt like the most dangerous thing that had happened tonight.