Chapter Thirteen: Proof of Him
1003 Words
The sun found its way into Fernanda’s bedroom slowly, slicing through the curtains in thin golden lines.
Her head felt heavy, her body sore—not from anything that had happened, but from the restless, heated sleep that had kept her tossing through the night.
She rolled onto her side, eyes half-open, and froze.
Her balcony door was locked, the curtains still drawn tight, but on her nightstand… sat a small paper coffee cup.
Steam curled from its open lid, the scent of rich dark roast spilling into the air.
Her pulse skipped.
She sat up, scanning the room.
“Ace?” she called softly.
No answer.
She slid out of bed, padding barefoot across the cool floor. A folded napkin sat under the cup. She picked it up, unfolding it with shaking hands.
You talk in your sleep, omega. You say my name.
– A
Her stomach swooped. She stared at the note until her fingers trembled, then placed it down carefully, as though it might shatter.
Last night, she could almost convince herself she’d dreamed the way he slipped into her apartment, the way his mouth had claimed hers.
Now, she had proof he’d been here.
Proof he’d stayed close enough to watch her sleep.
The scent of him wasn’t just lingering anymore—it was everywhere. On her sheets. Her skin. Her hair.
The thought should have scared her.
Instead, a low, needy ache curled in her belly.
She sipped the coffee, and it burned—hot, bold, no sugar. The kind of drink she’d never order for herself. But somehow, she drank every drop.
Her phone buzzed.
Ace: Step outside.
Her breath caught. She moved to the door before she could think better of it, sliding the bolt free and pulling it open.
He was leaning against the hood of a sleek black SUV parked in front of her building, wearing a dark T-shirt and jeans that did nothing to hide the way his body was built to intimidate and tempt all at once.
“You didn’t drink the coffee,” he said.
“I did,” she replied, holding up the empty cup.
His mouth quirked, but the look in his eyes was pure hunger. “Good. Now you can stay awake long enough to come with me.”
Her brows drew together. “Come with you where?”
He tilted his head slightly, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips. “Somewhere I can prove I’m not letting you out of my sight again.”
“Ace—”
“Don’t fight me, Fernanda,” he said, his voice dipping into that deep Alpha register that made every nerve in her body tighten. “You know you want to come.”
Her heartbeat thudded in her ears.
One part of her screamed to say no.
The other part—the bigger, louder part—was already stepping out into the morning light.
When she reached him, he opened the passenger door, his hand brushing her lower back in a way that sent shivers up her spine.
As soon as she was inside, he rounded to the driver’s side and slid in, the SUV roaring to life.
She didn’t ask where they were going again.
Something told her she’d find out soon enough—and that it would change everything.
The hum of the SUV’s engine filled the silence between them. Fernanda stared out the window, pretending the city passing by was more interesting than the Alpha sitting barely a foot away.
But she could feel him—his presence wrapped around her like invisible threads, tugging at the edges of her composure. His scent drifted through the confined space, warm and intoxicating, stirring something deep inside her that she tried—and failed—to suppress.
“You’re quiet,” he said at last, his tone neither accusing nor gentle. Just observing.
“I’m thinking,” she replied.
“About what?”
She hesitated, eyes still on the blur of buildings outside. “About how you got into my apartment without me hearing you.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the ghost of a smirk. “A true Alpha doesn’t get caught unless he wants to.”
“And you… wanted to be caught?” she challenged.
His voice was low, but it vibrated through her like a promise. “I wanted you to know I was there.”
Her pulse stuttered. “Why?”
He glanced at her briefly, then back to the road. “Because you needed to feel me near you. You just didn’t know it yet.”
Her cheeks warmed. She hated how easily he could unravel her with a few words.
The car slowed as they left the city behind, trading concrete for winding roads lined with trees. The air outside grew fresher, the light softer.
Fernanda shifted in her seat. “Where are we going, Ace?”
He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he reached across the console and, without warning, took her hand in his. His fingers were warm, rough, dwarfing hers completely.
“Somewhere no one will interrupt us,” he finally said.
Her breath hitched, but she didn’t pull away.
The silence that followed wasn’t awkward—it was charged, pulsing with an unspoken truth that made her stomach knot and her chest tighten.
By the time he pulled the SUV onto a narrow gravel road, she realized her heartbeat had synced with the faint rumble of the engine.
They stopped in front of a tall iron gate. It opened slowly as if it had been waiting for him.
Fernanda swallowed. “This… looks private.”
“It is,” he said simply.
She should have been afraid. She should have told him to take her home. But the moment he turned to look at her—really look at her—every ounce of resistance melted away.
“Trust me, Fernanda,” he said. “Just for today.”
And somehow, she did.
- Writer
