《My Fiancé’s Alpha Father Wants Me》全部章節：第 21 章 - 第 30 章

⋅ ⋅ ♔ Alpha Zayn Kai ♔ ⋅ ⋅ I watched her walk away, and for the first time in my life, something inside me fractured into a thousand jagged pieces. This wasn't how the night was supposed to go. I had intended for this gala to be the moment I pulled her closer, not the moment I pushed her off a cliff.When Nolan told me she said she needed space, I forced myself to stay away. I wanted her to feel free, to come to her own decision without my shadow looming over her. I didn't want to force her into my bed; I wanted her to choose it again.But then this damn gala arrived. The truce between the Trifang and Blackridge packs was a strategic necessity — a merger that would secure our borders and cement our position among the most elite and untouchable circles. It was a deal I couldn't ignore, but all I could think about was using the event as an excuse to see her.I had Ronan buy that black lace dress — an exact echo of the one she wore the night she gave herself to me. I sent it with the

⋅ ⋅ ♔ Alpha Zayn Kai ♔ ⋅ ⋅ I walked into my bedroom, my mind still heavy with the image of Blair’s tear-filled eyes, only to find another woman occupying my private sanctuary. Meera was lying naked across the silk sheets, her body a pale contrast against the dark bedding. When she saw me, she propped herself up on her elbows, a confident, knowing smirk playing on her lips. I didn’t let my gaze linger. I grabbed the duvet from the foot of the bed and tossed it over her, covering her skin before she could use it as a weapon. “What is this, Meera?” I asked, my tone cool and distant. “I’m here to cool your fire, Zayn,” she purred, pulling the duvet tight around her chest. “It’s been a tiring day, and I know exactly how to help you unwind. Just like I used to.” “Can you do me a favour?” I asked.She pushed herself up on the bed, knees pressing into the mattress as she moved toward the edge with feline elegance. Then she reached for me, wrapping her arms around my neck and pulling m

⋅ ⋅ ❦ Blaire Rose ❦ ⋅ ⋅I had spent the last few days scouring the city, pounding the pavement until my feet throbbed. I carried my CV in a neat leather folder tucked inside my backpack, a record of my education and skills that suddenly seemed like nothing more than worthless paper. Every time I walked into an office, the reaction was the same.At one firm, a receptionist didn’t even let me past the front desk. She glanced at my name, then at the screen in front of her, and her polite smile vanished.“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “We’re not accepting applications at this time.”At another place, I made it all the way to the manager's office. He read my CV, paused at my name, and something in his expression tightened.“I don’t think we’ll be moving forward with you,” he said flatly, sliding the paper back without another glance.It was as if a silent order had been issued: Do not hire Blair Rose.Whether it was Zayn’s protection or Nolan’s petty revenge, I was being frozen out.I h

⋅ ⋅ ❦ Blaire Rose ❦ ⋅ ⋅ We didn’t pull up to the main entrance of the Pack House. Instead, Ronan took the back gate, driving toward a concrete structure situated directly behind the primary house — a place I had never seen before. It stood apart from the luxury of the main house, built for a much darker purpose. The Enforcer ladies stepped out first, their silence alone enough to command me to follow. “Is Alpha Zayn here?” I asked as I stepped out, my feet hitting the cold ground. “He is inside waiting for you,” Ronan replied shortly. I nodded, clutching the straps of my backpack like a frightened child clinging to a stuffed animal for comfort. For a fleeting second, a memory of my childhood surfaced — but I shook it off. I wasn’t that little girl anymore. I walked inside, bracing myself for whatever I was about to find. Ronan escorted me down a flight of narrow stairs into the basement. The air was thick with the scent of stale adrenaline and something metallic — the unmist

⋅ ⋅ ❦ Blaire Rose ❦ ⋅ ⋅ We stood locked together, the heat of our bodies building until the cold basement office felt like an oven. Zayn sank back into his heavy leather chair, and I followed, straddling his lap without breaking the breathless rhythm of our mouths. I shrugged off my backpack, letting it fall to the floor. For a moment, everything stilled — his hands resting on my hips, my breath caught somewhere between hesitation and want. I pulled away from his lips just long enough to work the buttons of his shirt. My fingers were trembling, led by a restless hunger as I bared his chest. I trailed a path of fire with my tongue, starting at the hollow of his throat and working down over the firm muscles of his stomach. I slid off his lap and onto my knees between his legs, my lips moving over his navel as a low, dark groan vibrated through his whole body. I pressed my face against the waistband of his trousers, looking up at him through my lashes as I reached for his zipper