The First Chosen Alpha (Prequel)

CELESTE POV

The trepidation in me was enough to make me want to throw up, but I swallowed it down and forced a smile as I stepped out of the taxi.

“Have a good day,” I said to the driver after he helped me pull my luggage from the trunk, but he ignored me. It didn’t matter, though. I had bigger problems than a rude taxi driver.

Clutching my bag tightly, I stared up at the towering five-star hotel looming before me.

I wasn’t sure whether to feel ashamed or sad that my younger sister was doing better than me. But more than anything, I was confused when I got her message last month.

It had been six years since I’d seen or heard from her.

What if she were also staying here? What would I even say to her?

“Hi, Sophie. Thanks for thinking of me and inviting me to your wedding. I’m so sorry for abandoning you with that monster all those years ago.”

No. No. No.

I couldn’t face her yet. I needed more time. I grabbed my bags and made a call.

****

Fifteen years ago, I vowed never to return to Velmont City…

Now, tell me… why am I staring at Velmont City’s walls at this very moment?

Fifteen years ago, I remember running away from my inconsiderate stepfather. He had sold me out, and running away became my only option.

But that wasn't why I vowed never to come back here…

Then why am I back?

To stare at my regrets back in its face and damn the consequences of doing that.

I was so lost in my own head that I didn’t hear the footsteps until the voice came crashing through the quiet.

“What are you thinking!? Why would you come here!?”

I flinched. The voice belonged to Bethany.

She was already marching toward me with her brows pulling tight and her mouth set in a line that barely held back whatever storm she was carrying before she saw me.

Her eyes locked on mine like she was trying to figure out whether to hug me or continue yelling at me.

Bethany. My best friend since we were kids, the one person who never let me disappear completely.

I looked away, fixing my gaze on the tiled road beneath my shoes.

The letter still pressed against the lining of my bag like it had something to say. I didn’t need to reread it—that well-typed invitation letter had already carved itself into the back of my mind.

Sophia.

Her name sat at the bottom like a whisper I hadn’t heard in years. An invitation that felt more like a dare. One I wasn’t brave enough to turn down.

Bethany stopped just in front of me with her arms crossed while she breathed hard. I didn’t answer right away. How could I explain what even I didn’t understand? That despite everything—despite the years, despite what I’d left behind, despite the kind of man I’d left her with—I had come.

Because she asked me to.

“She invited me,” I said finally, the words tasting like rust.

Bethany's mouth jerked sideways like the truth tasted worse than she expected. “And you believed that meant it was a good idea to be present?”

No. It wasn’t a good idea. But it was my sister.

And I owed her more than silence.

Bethany still looked at me like I was out of my mind for coming back to Velmont City. She didn’t even bother hiding it.

“So,” she said, her arms still folded. “Are you here for good, or just playing dress-up for your sister’s wedding?”

I didn’t answer right away. How could I?

The truth felt heavy right in my dry throat.

Back home… if I could even call it that anymore, things had gone south… fast.

Last week, I saw a pervert in the lobby trying to force himself on a girl who clearly didn’t want him anywhere near her. After I kneed him in the balls, I got fired, obviously. I don’t regret what I did, and I never will.

But just when I thought life couldn’t possibly get any worse… turns out he wasn’t just some random creep. He was connected. The kind of connection that shuts doors before you even get a chance to knock.

He blacklisted me.

So now I am jobless. No interviews. No callbacks. Not even a maybe. And let’s not even talk about that jerk Jason… my boyfriend. Well, ex-boyfriend now. A whole year of dating, and he forgot to mention one small detail: he was freaking gay.

I don’t know how I missed the signs. We barely had sex, but I chalked it up to us both being workaholics. At least, that’s what I thought until I came home early one night and caught him screwing his married boss. So much for “late hours.”

So here I am.

And as for staying?

I looked away from Bethany, watching the city blur through the corner of my vision. I didn’t know. I really didn’t. Maybe I’d leave right after the wedding. Or maybe I’d stay, just long enough to figure out who I am without running all the time.

Right now, I was just trying to breathe.

“What's your plan?” She asked again.

Then I realized I hadn't said a single word since her last question.

“I just want to breathe, Bethany. And you're letting me do a bad job at it.”

Bethany took my bag without asking like she always did when she didn’t want to give me the option to argue.

“You’ll be my guest till you figure things out,” she said, already walking toward her car. “But if you’re asking me, going back to wherever you came from might be the better call.”

I didn’t bother responding. There wasn’t much point.

We got into her car, a sleek, expensive thing that purred more than it roared. Even the leather smelled like money. It reminded me, like a slap on the back of the head, that Bethany's family wasn’t just well-off—they were rich rich. The kind of rich that didn’t flinch at penthouses or imported wine or private anything.

The ride was quiet. Not awkward. Just... quiet. Outside the window, Velmont City passed in flickers and fragments. New cafés where old ones used to be. A few shinier buildings. But mostly, it looked the same. Familiar in the way a scar is.

We pulled up to her penthouse and parked inside the building like royalty. I didn’t even know what floor we were on—it was high enough to make the city look small.

“I’ll sleep with you tonight,” Bethany said casually as we stepped inside.

I blinked. “What happened to all the other rooms?”

She shrugged, kicking off her shoes. “Do whatever you want.”

So I did. I picked the room next to hers, unpacked a few things, took a hot shower, and tried not to think too hard.

When I was done, I drifted into her room. She stood by her massive wardrobe in just a bra and panties, flipping through hangers like nothing in there was good enough. There must’ve been thirty dresses, all lined up like soldiers, and still, she sighed like she had nothing to wear.

I leaned against the doorframe, arms folded. “So even rich folks have wardrobe crises,” I said, my voice light. “Where are you headed anyway?”

Without turning, she plucked a slinky black dress from the rack. “House party.”

I pushed off the doorframe. “I’ll come with you.”

She turned, eyebrows shooting up. “You?”

I lifted my hands, palms up. “What?”

She gave me a look. “Since when do you go to parties?”

Fair. I wasn’t the party type. Never had been. But I also didn’t want to sit around tonight, letting my thoughts crawl all over me. I didn’t want to replay how my ex dumped me last week like it was nothing. I didn’t want to compare that mess to my sister’s perfect fairytale, soon-to-be-married life.

“I just don’t feel like being alone,” I said, more to myself than to her.

And with that, I left her to get dressed. Maybe pretending I had it all together would help me believe it, even just for a night.

But my gut says otherwise…

And in my mind, it kept screaming…

“Stay back, Celeste.”

The last time I didn't listen to my gut feeling… Chaos ruled.

But what could possibly happen at a house party? Definitely not death.

I had to drift my mind somewhere else…

“Do you know what kind of man my sister is getting married to?” I asked, quite sure I couldn't trust my stepfather.

Maybe he is some kind of old man… I'm sure that's the answer. And if it were, I would make sure the wedding ends in chaos.

“No, I don't. I haven't seen him, not that I care.” Bethany responded.

“His name is Nathaniel Steele,” I said, hoping she'd know him. “Is he some kind of old man?”

“I know a certain Steele and maybe she's getting married to one of his sons. I don't know which one because he has two wives.” She shrugged her shoulders.

“Or he wants to make my sister his third wife,” I muttered.

Sophie turned around and stared at me. “I never doubted your out-of-the-box thinking skills.”

“Why do you say so?”

“At first, I didn't hear about the wedding. I heard from my parents. And no one seems to talk about it amongst the young folks and it is not in the news either.”

Then I could only come to one conclusion…

What happened fifteen years ago is about to happen to my sister…

Now, the regret hits harder…

I should have taken her along with me when I ran away fifteen years ago.

“Okay, let's head out,” Sophia said, jerking me off my regretful thoughts.