Reborn To Ruin The Alpha

His First Visit

CHAPTER 4: His First Visit

I spent two hours staring at that note.

Sitting cross-legged on my bed, turning the paper over and over in my hands. Two words and no signature. No context. No threat, but also no comfort.

"I know." Know what? That I am documenting the clinic? That I have been reborn? That the embryo inside me was made from stolen eggs?

The handwriting was unfamiliar. Not Richard's, I had memorized his writing from the checks he used to leave on my counter in the first timeline. Not Sylvia's clinical print. Not Tina's rounded script.

The man from the parking lot surfaced in my mind. Dark hair and dark eyes. The way he studied me was like a problem to solve.

"Is it him?" I asked my wolf.

She stirred with interest but gave no clear answer. Helpful as always.

I tucked the note into the plastic bag inside my toilet tank with the rest of my records and tried to sleep. It did not come easy.

The next two weeks passed with lots of clinic appointments, morning sickness, and careful planning. I was eight weeks pregnant now, and the exhaustion was brutal. But I had work to do.

Richard had not made contact yet. In the first few weeks, his first solo visit came at ten weeks. He showed up at my apartment unannounced with a bouquet of white roses and a smile that made my stupid heart flip.

I was not going to wait that long. I needed to speed up the calendar.

At my eight-week appointment, I mentioned to Sylvia that I was feeling isolated. No family, no friends who understood what I was going through. A lonely surrogate, desperate for connection. Sylvia's eyes gleamed with something unreadable as she made notes in my file.

Two days later, my doorbell rang.

I knew who it was before I opened the door. His cologne seeped through the thin wood. Cedar, sandalwood, and something sweet underneath that was purely him.

I took one breath. Then another. I smoothed my expression into surprised warmth and opened the door.

Richard stood in my doorway with white roses and that devastating smile. He wore a navy button-down with the sleeves rolled up, revealing tanned forearms and a silver watch that cost more than everything I owned combined.

"Evelyn." His voice was warm honey poured slow. "I hope I'm not overstepping. Sylvia mentioned you were feeling a bit lonely, and I thought... well, you're carrying our child. The least I can do is check in."

In my first life, I melted at this exact moment. I blushed and stammered and invited him inside like a schoolgirl with a crush.

Now I leaned against the doorframe and let a small smile pull at my lips. "White roses. My favorite."

His eyes brightened. "Lucky guess."

It was not a guess. In the first timeline, I mentioned white roses during a questionnaire at the clinic. He did his research. Everything about Richard was calculated.

"Come in." I stepped aside and watched him duck through my small doorway. He was tall, broad through the shoulders, with sandy brown hair swept back from a face that belonged on magazine covers. His jaw was sharp enough to cut glass and his green eyes held flecks of gold that caught the light.

I hated how attractive he was. It would have been easier if he looked like the monster he was.

He settled on my couch like he owned the place. His eyes swept over my apartment, the cramped kitchen, the water stain on the ceiling, the secondhand furniture. In the first timeline I was embarrassed by it. Now I watched his face and saw exactly what I expected. Satisfaction. He liked that I was poor. It made me easier to control.

"How are you feeling?" He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, his full attention on me. "Honestly."

I sat in the chair across from him, keeping distance. "Tired. Nauseous. But managing."

"I'm sorry you're going through this alone." His brow creased with practiced concern. "Mirabel wanted to come, but she's been so busy with pack events."

Liar…Mirabel did not know he was here. I was certain of it.

"It's fine." I tucked my hair behind my ear, a gesture I knew drew attention to my neck. His eyes tracked the movement. "I'm stronger than I look."

"I can see that." His voice dropped half a register. "Most surrogates are nervous wrecks by this stage. You seem... steady."

"Is that a problem?"

"Not at all." That smile again. Slow, warm, deliberate. "It's refreshing."

We talked for an hour. He asked about my life, my childhood, my hopes for the future. In the first timeline I told him everything. Every vulnerable, broken piece of myself laid bare for him to exploit later. This time I gave him carefully constructed truths. Enough vulnerability to seem real, enough strength to keep him interested.

I was a puzzle he wanted to solve. And I intended to stay unsolvable just long enough to drive him mad.

When he finally stood to leave, he paused at the door. Close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating off his body.

"Can I visit again?" His green eyes held mine and I let the silence stretch. Let him wonder. Let him feel the uncertainty that I never gave him the first time.

"If you bring coffee next time instead of flowers," I said. "I'm running low."

He laughed out loud…"Done."

I closed the door behind him and let my smile fall away like a mask.

My hands were steady as I crossed the room to my bag and pulled out the burner phone. I opened the recording app and hit stop.

It's a forty-seven minutes of audio. His voice, clear as a bell, saying everything he would later deny.

I played it back from the beginning and listened to Richard charm a woman he planned to destroy.

"Good start," my wolf murmured. "But not enough."

"We have time." I tucked the phone away. "He'll come back. He always comes back."

My phone buzzed on the counter. A text from an unknown number.

"The man with the roses is not who he says. Meet me on Thursday at the coffee shop on Fifth Street. 3pm."

No name, no signature.

I stared at the message and my wolf pressed forward, that same restless recognition from the parking lot surging through my chest.