Todos los capítulos de FATED TO MY STEPBROTHER ALPHA.: Capítulo 11 - Capítulo 20

This house remembered a version of us that no longer existed.Every turn of the wide oak corridors in Grimholt Manor pulled a ghost out of the floorboards, whispering of a past I had spent five desperate years trying to bury. I stood in the doorway of Braxton’s sprawling archive room, staring at the high leather-bound ledgers resting on the dark shelves.Seven years ago, my mother married his father, pulling me into the ruthless world of the Grimholt bloodline. Braxton was seventeen then—arrogant, bitter, and icy cold. He hated my mother for trying to replace his late mother, and he hated me simply for existing under his roof. He made my first year in this house a living hell, tossing cruel words at me whenever we passed in the hallways."Look at you, cowering in the corner like you don't belong," Seventeen-year-old Braxton had sneered at me back then, blocking my path near the staircase."I have every right to be here, Braxton," I had thrown right back at him, chin lifted high.

Bram's pov.Numbers don't lie.People do.I sat behind the massive oak desk in the Beta suite, swirling a glass of amber whiskey while staring at the electronic screen of my laptop. The house was eerie and quiet tonight. Up on the third floor, behind a locked door, Braxton and Scarlett were busy destroying each other all over again.Downstairs, in the guest quarters, four-year-old Micah was finally fast asleep after an hour of me reading him bedtime stories about wolf pups and knights.I'd managed to drag him away from the Alpha's door because he refused to leave without his mommy.The way he'd called “Mommy” through the keyhole had made my heart tighten.He was just a child caught innocently in the middle of a cold storm.I set the whiskey glass down on a thick leather coaster with a soft thud."Something is deeply wrong here," I muttered to myself in the empty room, resting my chin in my hands as I brought up the pack’s private intelligence database.Back then, before Scarlett van

Scarlett's POV. I stood frozen in the center of the dark, sterile room, my limbs turned to lead and my hands trembling so violently I had to clench them into tight fists. Braxton’s heavy footsteps faded down the cold stone corridor outside, leaving me completely alone with the ghost of my nightmares. The heavy double doors had clicked shut with a dull, final thud, locking me inside the dark chamber filled with the rhythmic, agonizing beep... beep... beep… of heart monitors and the soft, unnatural hiss of an oxygen machine. On the high hospital bed in the center of the room, Rourke lay tucked beneath thick white sheets. His body was frail, withered, and papery, but his dark, sunken eyes burned with the exact same ancient malice that had haunted every single night of my teenage years. "What do you want from me?" I asked, my voice cracking beneath the weight of overwhelming terror. My eyes burned, hot tears blurring my vision as I stared at the man who had ruined my life.

Bram's pov.I stood in the doorway of Braxton’s private office, watching my best friend stare out the floor-to-ceiling windows with a dark, suffocating rage rolling off his broad shoulders. He looked like a man possessed by ghosts, clutching his whiskey glass so tightly I expected the crystal to shatter in his palm."You called for me, Braxton?" I asked softly, closing the heavy oak door behind me with a quiet click.Braxton turned around slowly, his dark eyes flashing with a lethal, unhinged intensity that made my chest tighten. "I need you to run a complete, unrestricted background sweep."I raised a brow, stepping further into the dim room. "A sweep on who? The rival packs along the southern border?""On the boy's father," Braxton rasped out. "I want every scrap of information you can dig up. Old hospital records, birth certificates, travel logs, apartment leases…anything tied to Scarlett's disappearance five years ago."I froze in my tracks, my mind spinning as I stared at him.

Scarlett's POV. I knew something had changed the moment Braxton looked at Micah. “Scarlett, whose boy is he?” The question hung in the warmly and quietly in the air, heavy and suffocating like a thundercloud breaking open over our heads. My heart slammed against my ribs so hard I couldn't breathe. I stood completely frozen beside the velvet sofa, a small pile of Micah’s folded laundry clutched against my chest like a shield. My eyes darted frantically from Braxton’s tall, shadowy silhouette by the stone archway down to where Bram had just disappeared at the end of the long hallway. He knows… My mind screamed, the floor feeling like it was tilting violently beneath my feet. Bram found something. Bram looked at the dates. Braxton didn't look at me with the same furious, burning jealousy that had consumed him for the past two weeks. The bitter, toxic rage in his dark eyes was gone, replaced by a raw, terrifying intensity that pinned me to the floorboards. He was