Pregnant For The Alpha I Never Met

A better place

Millie-Rose POV

The fire alarm I triggered at the restaurant was still echoing faintly behind me as I ran, my breath burning in my chest. I didn’t look back. I couldn’t.

The fear that Alpha Braham might be right behind me was enough to keep my legs moving. I turned corner after corner until the city noise faded into the low hum of trucks idling on the outskirts of town.

The air smelled like oil, rust and exhaust. Rows of vans and trucks filled the open lot, drivers talking loudly in Spanish, smoke from cigarettes curling into the dim light.

I ducked behind an oil drum, clutching my purse to my chest. My hands were shaking so hard the leather slipped from my grip and I picked it up immediately. Thankfully no one noticed me.

He had found me. Not just found my trail…he was there. In the same building. Close enough that I’d seen the sharpness of his jaw, the cold in his eyes.

Braham wasn’t a shadow in my head anymore. He was here, in this little town, breathing the same air.

I forced myself to breathe slowly, scanning the lot. I couldn’t stay here another minute. By now, he would’ve blocked the exits and had men stationed at every bank, motel, and road leading out.

I felt nauseated for the first time since all this started. My baby was really considerate, if there was actually any baby inside of me.

My gaze fell on a faded white delivery van that looked tired and worn out by time, parked a few meters away. Its back door was half-open, revealing boxes, cartons and sacks stacked loosely inside. The driver was arguing with another man near the back, neither paying attention.

I thought of going to the driver and paying him to let me follow him to his destination but my experience with Gerald flooded my mind and I shuddered at the thought.

Then another thought came into my mind that I unconsciously said out loud; “sneak inside and hide there.”

Before moving, I pulled out the small notepad I kept in my purse. My fingers trembled as I tore a sheet and scribbled quickly:

“Stop looking for me. I’ll return when I’m ready. — Millie.”

I folded the note twice, kept it on the oil tank and placed a small rock on it so the breeze wouldn’t blow it away, knowing his men would surely come around to look for me here and whispered under my breath, “You’ll see it, Braham. You always do.”

Then I ran.

The van was my only chance. I darted across the open lot, boots crunching on gravel, heart thundering in my throat. I reached the side door and hesitated only a second before slipping inside.

Darkness swallowed me. The smell of flour and cardboard filled the air. I crawled between cartons and sacks, settling low behind a stack of boxes that reached almost to the roof. My knees pressed against cold metal. Every sound felt amplified…the scrape of fabric, my breathing, the steady pulse in my ears.

Outside, the men’s voices carried on. One laughed, another spat. More cartons and sacks were carelessly thrown inside, then the door slammed hard, and the van rocked slightly as someone climbed in. The engine roared to life.

“We were moving.” I muttered and let out a satisfied smile.

I exhaled slowly, my palms still pressed to the floor. I didn’t know where the van was going, and I didn’t care. All I needed was distance…any direction that wasn’t toward him.

Minutes passed. My heartbeat began to steady with the rhythm of the road. The hum of tires, the low Spanish music from the radio, the occasional laugh from the front seat… all of it blended into something almost peaceful.

Then I heard the driver curse. “Control,” he muttered. “Hay una parada de tráfico adelante.”

My stomach turned. A checkpoint?

I pushed up just enough to peek through the gap between two crates. Up ahead, red and blue lights flashed. Cars were lined up, and men in uniform stood with flashlights, stopping each vehicle.

And there…at the center of it all…was Alpha Braham.

Even from this distance, I could feel his presence. The way he stood, giving orders, his expression hard and unreadable.

People obeyed him without hesitation. He was searching…for me.

The van slowed. The driver sounded uneasy, muttering to his companion, “Nunca hacen esto aquí… algo pasa.”

Yes, something's going on here. And something was. Me.

The line of cars inched forward. The checkpoint was unavoidable. I ducked lower behind the boxes, pulling a sack toward me for cover. My heart slammed against my ribs as I tried to steady my breathing.

“Documentos,” a man’s voice demanded outside the window.

The driver handed over papers. Someone circled the van, tapping the side. Then a sharp voice ordered, “Abre atrás.”

No. Please don’t open it.

I froze. The latch clinked. The door opened a few inches, light sliced through the dim space. Boots shuffled. A man leaned inside, sweeping his flashlight lazily over the cargo. I stayed still, eyes squeezed shut. The light slid across boxes, sacks, and then the floor where my leg had been seconds before.

“Solo carga,” one of them said flatly.

Another answered, “Revisa rápido.”

I could hear them shifting crates, inspecting the first few rows. The smell of sweat and cologne filled the air. I was so close to one of them I could hear his breathing…steady, annoyed.

He lifted a box, then another. The flashlight beam landed on the sack hiding me, lingered for a second too long. My muscles locked. If he so much as moved that sack…

A shout came from outside. “¡Alpha Braham!”

The man froze, turned his head toward the sound. “¿Qué?”

“Necesitan verlo ahora,” someone yelled.

Was that Alpha Braham?

That was definitely not him, it wasn’t his voice, plus alpha Braham won’t be this close and lose me would he?

Just as he was about to get down from the van I felt some kind of movement that almost made me scream and I quickly covered my mouth with both hands, though my movement didn’t go unnoticed.

“Creo que alguien está aquí.” He said and turned to see what it was.

I froze. My heart jumped into my mouth as he made his way towards where I was but fortunately something ran out that scared him off.

“Solo era una rata.” He screamed, dropping the flashlight on the floor with a thud, then kicked the door shut. The latch clicked again.

The van started moving almost immediately.

I stayed frozen for another full minute, unable to move or breathe properly. My body trembled so badly it felt like my bones might rattle apart. Only when the flashing lights faded behind us did I finally let out a breath that came out half-sob, half-laugh.

Through a narrow slit near the door, I caught one last glimpse of the road. Braham’s SUV was turned toward the trucks, his men already scattering, checking other vehicles. One of them running towards Alpha Braham with something in his hand…my note?

I pressed a hand to my chest and let out a slow, shaky sigh. He’d find it. He’d read it. Maybe it would buy me time. Maybe it would remind him that he couldn’t control me, not entirely.

The van rolled on, the highway stretching endlessly ahead. I could feel every vibration through the floor, every turn, every bump. My head leaned against the metal wall, my fingers resting protectively on my stomach.

“For now, we’re okay.” I said more to myself than the baby.

I shifted slightly to ease the cramp in my legs, careful not to make noise. The air inside was warm and dry, thick with dust. I counted my breaths, one after another, grounding myself.

In my mind’s eye, I could still see his face…the shock in his eyes when he realized I’d escaped again. I’d seen a flicker of something there before I ran. Not just anger. Something closer to fear.

The road stretched on endlessly. The van kept a steady pace, leaving the town and Braham behind.

When the driver stopped briefly to refuel hours later, I stayed perfectly still. The voices outside were distant, unbothered. I heard laughter, footsteps, the sound of match lighting. Then the doors slammed again, and the van rolled forward once more.

It was only then that I allowed myself to exhale and whisper, “Thank you,” to no one in particular.

For now, I’d won a small battle. I’d slipped through his fingers once more.

But I knew Braham wouldn’t stop. Not after that note. He’d read it and call it defiance. He’d call it pride. Maybe he’d even smile that cruel, knowing smile of his.

Still, I meant what I wrote.

I would come back.

When I was ready.

The van’s motion lulled me into silence. My body ached, my empty stomach churned, my mind too tired to think. I held my bag close and pressed my cheek to the cool metal floor, letting the rhythm of the road steady my pulse.

By dawn, I would be far from here…far enough to breathe again. Once I got far enough, I’d book a flight and get to a distant destination and a better place too.

For now, that was enough.