ليلة واحدة مع الألفا

Navia Harrison stood outside the hotel room, her fingers trembling around her phone.

An anonymous text message glowed on the screen.

[Grand Hotel. Room 1001. Password: 123456.]

At first, she had assumed it was some kind of prank.

But something about it made her uneasy enough to come anyway.

Tomorrow was her wedding day.

Tonight, her fiancé had told her he was busy preparing a surprise for her.

Now, standing in front of Room 1001, a strange chill crept up her spine.

After a brief hesitation, she entered the password.

The door unlocked with a soft click.

Navia slowly pushed it open.

The moment she stepped inside, her entire body froze.

A man and woman were tangled together on the hotel bed.

The woman beneath him was glamorous and heavily made up, her scarlet nails tracing lazy circles across his chest as she pouted.

“Liam, you’re marrying Navia tomorrow. Why are you here with me tonight? Haven’t I suffered enough already?”

At the mention of the wedding, disgust flashed across the man’s face.

“Linda, you know exactly why I’m marrying her,” he said, pulling the woman closer. “It’s for the Harrison Group. Once we’re married and I get control of the shares, I’ll deal with her.”

The woman’s eyes lit up with anticipation.

“And how exactly are you planning to deal with her?”

A cold smirk curled on his lips.

“How hard could it be? A honeymoon accident. A fall off a cliff. Or maybe complications during childbirth.” He shrugged casually. “Women die from hemorrhaging all the time.”

The woman gasped dramatically, covering her mouth.

“Liam… she’s still my sister. Isn’t that a little cruel?”

“Cruel?” he sneered. “She stole your place in the family and left you carrying the shame of being the illegitimate daughter all these years. She should’ve disappeared a long time ago. I’m just getting justice for you.”

Linda threw herself into his arms, touched beyond words.

“Liam… you really care about me that much?”

“You’re the one I love.” His grin turned wicked as he tightened his hold on her. “Of course I do. And tonight, I plan to spoil you properly.”

“Stop it…” she giggled flirtatiously.

Their laughter echoed through the suite.

Navia stood motionless by the doorway, her face drained of color.

An icy numbness spread through her body, squeezing tightly around her heart until she could barely breathe.

The man on the bed was her fiancé.

The woman in his arms was her father’s mistress’s daughter—her so-called stepsister.

And the two of them were discussing her murder as casually as if they were talking about tomorrow’s weather.

A wave of nausea surged through her stomach.

No.

She would never let them get what they wanted.

Fighting back the urge to vomit, Navia quietly raised her phone and recorded every disgusting second.

Then, before they could notice her presence, she turned and stumbled out of the room.

Her mind was in chaos.

So shaken that she failed to notice the dark pair of eyes silently watching her retreating figure from the shadows at the end of the corridor.

...

Navia returned to the underground parking garage and drove away from the hotel.

It was late. The roads were nearly empty.

She gripped the steering wheel tightly, forcing herself to breathe, trying desperately to calm down.

But the conversation she had overheard replayed endlessly in her head.

A honeymoon accident.

A fatal fall.

Death during childbirth.

Her stomach churned violently.

She slammed on the brakes and pulled over to the side of the road, leaning forward as she dry-heaved.

Suddenly—

SCREEECH!

A piercing sound shattered the silence behind her.

Navia spun around in panic.

A black Mercedes-Maybach came speeding down the road in the distance. The car swerved violently before smashing through the roadside barrier and slamming into the rocky hillside with a deafening crash.

Her knees nearly gave out beneath her.

Someone had been in that car.

Her first instinct was to call emergency services, but when she looked at her phone, there was no signal.

Without hesitation, Navia ran toward the wreckage.

Through the cracked driver’s-side window, she could make out the silhouette of a man slumped over the wheel.

“Sir!” she shouted, pounding on the glass. “Can you hear me? Sir!”

When he didn’t respond, she grabbed a rock from the ground, preparing to smash the window open.

But just then, the man inside slowly stirred awake.

His gaze lifted toward her.

The moment their eyes met, a shiver ran down Navia’s spine.

It felt as though she had just been locked onto by a dangerous predator.

The man was devastatingly handsome despite the blood running down from a wound on his forehead. His skin was unnaturally pale, and his dark eyes were deep and unreadable—like a whirlpool capable of swallowing anyone whole.

A dangerous man.

A mysterious one.

He reached over and unlocked the door.

Click.

Navia forced down the strange feeling twisting in her chest, tossed the rock aside, and hurriedly pulled the door open.

“Are you okay?” she asked anxiously. “If you can still move, I’ll take you to the hospital right now.”

The man exhaled heavily, one hand pressed against his bleeding forehead. His voice was low and rough.

“Where’s the ambulance?”

“There’s no signal out here,” Navia replied.

He closed his eyes briefly and tried to unbuckle his seatbelt, but his hand trembled too badly to manage it.

“Don’t move,” Navia said quickly. “I’ll help you.”

The cramped interior of the car carried the faint scent of blood, mixed with the crisp smell of cedarwood and warm sandalwood from the man beside her—a mature, intoxicating scent.

Navia bit her lip nervously.

Her heart pounded wildly as she leaned closer to unfasten the seatbelt, her cheeks and ears burning bright red.

The man lowered his gaze.

His long lashes cast shadows over his eyes as he quietly studied the vulnerable curve of her neck, breathing in the soft sweetness lingering around her.

For a moment, he lifted his hand as though he wanted to touch her face.

But in the end, he restrained himself and lowered it again.

Completely unaware of his gaze, Navia finally managed to free the seatbelt.

“Careful,” she said, holding out her hand. “I’ll help you out.”

He gave a quiet acknowledgment.

His large hand—warm and rough with faint calluses—brushed against her fingertips as he took it.

Navia rarely had any physical contact with men.

The simple touch sent a strange tingling sensation racing through her body, like a mild electric current.

Then suddenly, his fingers tightened around hers.

He leaned part of his weight against her, his warm breath brushing against her ear as he murmured in a deep voice:

“Thank you.”

Instinctively, Navia tried to pull away.

But the moment she pushed him back, she remembered—

He was injured.

The man sucked in a sharp breath, his body swaying weakly as though he might collapse at any second.

Navia immediately wrapped her arms around him again.

“Careful!”

She mentally cursed herself.

The man had just survived a car accident, and she was still worrying about keeping her distance because he was a man?

Saving him mattered more.

After struggling for several minutes, Navia finally helped him into her car and rushed him to the hospital.

Fortunately, his injuries turned out to be minor.

Not long after, the police arrived to investigate the accident. From their conversation, Navia learned that one of the Maybach’s tires had suddenly blown out, causing the crash. The vehicle had already been sent for inspection and repairs.

By the time everything was settled, it was already past midnight.

Navia glanced at the time.

“Well, since you’re okay now… I should get going.”

The man handed her a business card.

“This is my contact information,” he said. “You saved my life tonight. If you ever need anything, come find me.”

Navia accepted the card casually and glanced down at it.

Then her eyes widened in shock.

She looked up at him abruptly.

“You’re Leonel Crawford?!”

Leonel Crawford—the youngest son of the powerful Crawford family. After spending years overseas, he had returned six months ago and taken control of the Crawford Corporation almost overnight, becoming one of the most powerful men in the country.

And there was another connection.

He was also Liam Crawford’s uncle.

“I am,” the man replied calmly.

Because Leonel had spent most of his life abroad—and because his branch of the family had never been close to Liam’s side of the family—this was Navia’s first time meeting him.

Before she could stop herself, the question slipped out.

“Do… do you know who I am?”

***