Pregnant For The Alpha I Never Met

Rage and regret

Mille-Rose POV

I swallowed hard. My palms instantly turned clammy as I gripped the leather seat, his words echoing in my mind over and over, just then came the voice through the news.

I almost didn’t understand what the announcer was saying, she was talking too fast, but then I heard my name, Mille-Rose Harvey…and my heart stopped. I knew they were talking about me. About everything that had happened and probably my disappearance.

I had been so caught up in my thoughts about starting a new life here in Mexico that I didn’t even notice the radio was on.

Gerald, stole another glance at me in the rearview mirror, a faint smile curling his lips. It gave me the shivers.

“Esta bien, señorita? Te ves… acostada.”

“I’m fine,” I forced out, trying not to let my panic show. But what I didn’t understand was why he suddenly stopped speaking his crooked English and switched to Spanish.

He just shrugged and turned the dial until the radio switched to a static-filled Spanish music station. Still, his dark eyes lingered on me in the mirror.

A slow, creeping dread tightened its grip on my chest, making it difficult to breathe.

Was this merely a coincidence? or had he heard the news, figured out who I am and was he taking me to the police?

My heart slammed against my ribs, a frantic, desperate rhythm.

I had two options; I could either jump out of the car, forgo my money, and disappear into the wild before he put the pieces together or I could stay calm and pray I was wrong.

The truck veered off the two-lane road onto a winding, unpaved track that seemed to dissolve into the arid landscape.

Two worn ruts carved into the earth led us through what felt like the middle of nowhere. A rusted chain-link fence lined the road, but everything around us looked abandoned, forgotten by time.

There was no sign of life around here, no saguaro cacti, just the endless expanse of dust and red earth with the scorching sun hanging above our heads.

My only thought was, Millie, run before he kills you. Where was he taking me?

“Estamos aquí..here… mi casa, now su casa… your house.” Gerald’s voice cut through the suffocating silence.

I leaned forward, shielding my eyes against the blinding glare of the sun and silently cursing myself for misplacing my sunglasses at the motel,

At first I saw nothing. It was just an expanse of emptiness.

The car rounded a sharp bend, and that was when I saw it.

My stomach dropped instantly as dread filled me yet again.

this was the house he had been raving about?

The house was tilted to one side, as if it was weary of staying upright. Its exterior was a canvas of decay. Patches of what was once paint had peeled away like rotten flesh, and what was left was the rotting wood beneath.

Most of the window panes were either shattered or missing. The front door sagged off its hinges, the door handle itself was missing. The roof looked like it was ready to collapse any moment from now, and in some places, they were missing entirely, creating dark gaps like missing teeth in a rotted smile.

This was not a house. This was a bad dream.

A wave of dizziness washed over me, and my hand flew to my stomach.

This was a nightmare. This desolate, rotting thing was all that I had to show for the money I had spent? I’d been scammed.

“This has to be a joke,” I said, my voice, a mixture of shock and anger. “You said you wanted to sell a house, not a dumpster!”

Gerald’s pleasant face suddenly hardened in the rearview mirror. The friendly smile was gone and all that remained were cold, empty orbs staring back at me.

“Tú dijiste que querías comprar casa,” he said, his accent thick, each word sharp. “Pues… aquí estamos, cariño.” The words sounded like a curse on his lips.

He was no longer using his "crooked English;" his accent was thick, and the words were laced with venom.

“I didn’t bargain for this,” I retorted.

“Tenías prisa por pagar. Estabas desesperada, no?” His words dripped with venom. “Esta es la casa que compraste y es lo que vas a tener.”

I understood enough to know he was mocking me. Intimidating me.

“You can’t do this to me, please,” I begged, my hands clasped together. The tears threatened to roll down my cheeks. “I can’t live here, you lied to me and I want my money back. This is a scam.”

He laughed. Short. Cruel.

“Tú no eres nadie para hablar, sombras.” His voice was like ice. “You run away from something, sí? I know mujeres like you. Maybe you fraud some man, steal his money, and now you hide here. No tienes teléfono, you pay in efectivo, and you beg me no background check. ¿Qué pensáis that I’m stupid? Verdad?”

My blood ran cold.

The panic was no longer a flutter; it was raging like a storm inside me. He didn’t know who I was, but he knew I was a fugitive. And in this forgotten corner of the world, that was all he needed to know. That was enough to use against me.

"Please," I begged, the words tumbling out of me. "I'm not a criminal and I didn’t take anyone’s money. I'm just… I’m running from some bad people. I don't want any trouble. Please, just give me my money back, and I'll go."

His gaze raked over me slowly, like a predator sizing up prey.

“No te creo, pobrecita. You hide your name, you hide your… vida, y quieres que te crea?” His lips twisted into a smirk. “Maybe there is una recompensa para ti. Maybe I get rich if I call la policía.”

The realization hit like a blow. All those glances in the rearview mirror, it had been a game to him. He didn’t know I was pregnant with a werewolf’s child, but he knew I was running from something precious enough to risk everything for.

Men like him were desperate for one thing only.

My hands shook as I instinctively dipped my hand into my purse and brought out a thousand dollars from the rest of the cash I had—I had about three thousand dollars. It was all I had left in the world.

“I’ll pay you. I’ll give you a thousand dollars for you to keep your mouth shut and not tell the police anything about me. I don’t want the house anymore and I’m not looking for a refund either, I just want you to let me go.” I pleaded, my voice giving away my desperation and fear.

I was terrified, not because of him, but because my gamble might backfire in my face and I’ll be thrown right back into the crazed mess I was trying to escape from.

He chuckled darkly. “One thousand? No. Valen más que eso. Better I call la policía and tell them tengo una fugitiva de Estados Unidos. They love to know para la mujer con no nombre, paying en cash, trying to esconder su identidad .”

I slapped my hand over my mouth to stop myself from crying. He was openly blackmailing me and there was nothing I could do about it.

“I’ll give you everything I have,” I pleaded, opening my purse and pulling out the rest of the money in it. “Here, everything I have is three thousand dollars. Please, take it and don’t tell anyone.”

His eyes lit up instantly as he fixed them on the bills in my shaking hands. As I stretched my hand towards him, he snatched it. Stuffing it into his pocket, a satisfied grin spread across his face.

"Okay, we’re done here. Fuera!” He yelled at me.

I nodded, fumbling with the car door with trembling hands but it was stuck.

He watched me struggling for a moment then cursing out loud, he stepped out of his car, opened the door and with hands as rough as iron closed around my arm, his grip like a vise, and he yanked me out of the car.

I slipped and fell to the ground, a cry of pain tearing from me. He didn’t spare me another glance. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a key.

“Here. Las keys de la casa te compraste. ”

He tossed it at me, whistling as he sauntered to his car.

I stared at the key and then at him, my eyes clouded with tears as he entered his car and drove away, leaving me behind under the scorching sun in a cloud of dust, rage, and regret.