ALPHA AARON’S POV
The heavy oak door to my study clicked shut behind me, drowning out the noise of the world beyond. The room was dim, illuminated only by the golden glow of the chandelier hanging above my head. Yet, even surrounded by grandeur, I felt like a fraud. The man reflected in the polished glass cabinet wasn’t the Alpha, the patriarch of the Black family, or the aristocrat that everyone revered.
He was just a hollow shell of who he once was.
I loosened my tie and ran a hand over my face, the stubble on my chin a reminder of the sleepless nights that had stretched into tears. My mind couldn’t shake Olivia’s tear-streaked face as she stepped out of the car earlier today. She hadn’t said much, but her silence spoke volumes. She despised me—and I deserved it.
“Go find my mother
