บททั้งหมดของ Stuck Between Two Alphas: บทที่ 61 - บทที่ 70

Eve The man let out a laugh. Not the kind that followed a joke. Not one that spilled from joy or sarcasm. It was light, hollow, drawn out for a full minute, if not longer. Long enough that I exchanged a glance with Christian, eyebrows raised. Neither of us smiled. It didn’t sit right. It didn’t belong here. When the man finally stopped, he looked straight at Christian and pointed a long, pale finger at him. “Wow,” he said, his lips curling just slightly. “You’re very perceptive.” Christian’s voice dropped lower. “Who sent that invitation?” His arms crossed tightly, shoulders stiff. “I want to speak to the person responsible.” The man didn’t miss a beat. “You already are.” Silence. My brows furrowed as I looked between them. He motioned casually toward the chairs. “Come on. Let’s sit down. Talk like civilized people.” Neither of us moved. Christian’s jaw flexed once. “No one told me shit about a therapy session. Or you.” The man shrugged. “Therapy’s just a word, Alpha. This

EvelynFor a second, I just stared at him.The question echoed in my head like a slow, creeping drumbeat.How far along are you in your pregnancy?I blinked, once. Twice. My lips parted, but my tongue sat heavy in my mouth. My breath caught.How the hell did he know?I hadn’t even said a word about it. No mention. No gesture. And I sure as hell wasn’t showing, at least not visibly.My fingers instinctively fluttered over my stomach. Still flat. Still silent. But my heart had started to race so violently I could hear it pounding behind my ears.“How…” I started, my voice unsteady. “How the hell do you know that?”A knowing smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He tilted his head, almost boyish, almost amused.“I can hear them,” he said simply.My brows drew together. “Hear?”“The heartbeats,” he clarified. “Two of them. Fast, fluttering little things. Like hummingbirds trapped in a cage.”I stared at him, stunned. Not because he knew I was pregnant, Christian and I had been careful n

EvelynThe soft hum of the elevator was the only sound that followed us up to the penthouse. The doors slid open with a quiet ding, and Christian stepped out first. I followed close behind, but neither of us said a word. Not during the long drive back. Not even when we crossed into the mansion. Silence had settled between us like fog, dense, cold, and suffocating.It was 9 p.m. The city below us twinkled, but the penthouse was dark. Not pitch black, but dim enough that the shadows painted the corners of the room in soft strokes of gray. The only light came from the kitchen under-cabinet LEDs and the faint glow of the moon bleeding through the floor-to-ceiling windows.Christian dropped his keys on the marble console near the front door. The clink they made sounded louder than it should’ve in the silence. He didn’t take off his jacket or loosen his collar. He just stood there for a moment, staring out at the skyline like it held some kind of answer he hadn’t found back at Rein's hideou

Evelyn The room was quiet, too quiet. A soft breeze slipped through the cracked window, brushing the curtain in slow, ghostly waves. I stirred, my eyes fluttering open in the darkness. For a moment, I didn’t move. The sheets still held the faint warmth of his body, and the scent of him lingered,clean, masculine, with that unique underlying musk I’d only come to recognize last night.But the space beside me was empty.I turned over slowly, hand searching the sheets. Nothing.“Christian?” I called softly, my voice still hoarse from sleep.No answer.I sat up, blinking into the dark. The clock on the wall blinked a soft, blue 2:47 AM. Great. The middle of the damn night. I sighed and rubbed my face, dragging the covers off me as I got out of bed. My bare feet hit the cold floor, sending a jolt up my spine.I crossed the room, pushed open the bathroom door.“Christian?” I tried again, a little louder.Silence.The bathroom was empty. Lights off. Towel still folded neatly by the sink. The

Evelyn“Why are you just standing there?” Christian’s voice pulled me from my haze. He was still behind the counter, flipping a fork in his hand like he was thinking of tossing it at me for ignoring him.I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. My throat felt dry, my legs stiff like they belonged to someone else.He stepped around the kitchen island, his footsteps soft but sure, moving across the marble like a predator, smooth, silent, confident. Every inch he moved closer made my skin burn hotter. By the time he stopped in front of me, he was just inches away.My breath hitched.He was so close now I could smell the warmth of his skin, coffee, cedar, a trace of the body wash I remembered lathering onto his chest last night. The heat of his body rolled toward me in slow, lazy waves. My eyes flicked up, only to meet his piercing blue stare, unapologetically direct. My lungs forgot how to function.I closed my eyes, instinctively.Maybe if I didn't look at him, I could stop myself from doing someth