Chapter 2 #2
“How long?” My voice came out rougher than intended.
“Months. Maybe longer.”
Months. Maybe longer. The bond couldn’t sustain that kind of separation.
“I can’t do this for months,” I said, my voice breaking on the last word. “Blake, I can’t—”
“Yes, you can.” Jake’s voice cut through my rising panic with surprising firmness. His eyes were serious but not unkind. He lowered his voice, as if hesitating now that everyone focused their attention on him. “You have to. You’re the strongest person I know.”
“I don’t feel strong.” The admission felt like failure, but I was too emotionally raw to maintain any pretense. “I feel like I’m falling apart.”
Penny moved to sit on my other side, his cotton candy scent deliberately bright and comforting. “Then we’ll hold you together until Dominic comes home. That’s what family does.”
Family. The word settled something in my chest, reminding me that I wasn’t completely alone even with Dominic gone. These three had uprooted their lives to protect me, had sat through a devastating court hearing, and were now offering to carry me through whatever came next.
“Corporate espionage cases can be beaten,” Blake said, pulling out his phone to check messages. “Katherine’s already identified several procedural issues with the evidence collection. And if this new evidence is as questionable as we suspect…”
He trailed off, reading something on his screen that made his expression darken. “We have another problem.”
My heart sank further, though I hadn’t thought that was possible. “What now?”
“Text from Councilwoman Fairfax. The police want to talk to everyone in the district about the break-in.” Blake pocketed his phone, his movements smooth and controlled despite his personal investment in the situation.
“Think it’s connected to… everything else?” Penny asked.
“The timing feels too convenient to be coincidence,” Blake said.
He’s right. The night before Dominic’s bail was denied, someone had targeted the Historical Society, the repository of records that could potentially connect to the corporate espionage case or the development pressures threatening our neighborhood.
Jake shifted uncomfortably, his expression troubled.
“This reminds me of stuff that happened back in Boston. Documents going missing, businesses getting pressured… I never really understood what it all meant at the time, but now…” He trailed off, looking uncertain.
“It feels like the same kind of thing, you know?”
“We need to find out what they were looking for,” I said, forcing myself to stand despite the lingering dizziness. The omega grief response was making me weak, but I couldn’t afford weakness right now.
Blake caught my arm as I swayed. “You’re in no condition right now. You need rest, food, and time to process what just happened.”
“What I need is to find out who framed my mate and why.” The statement emerged more cutting than I’d meant. I instantly felt remorseful. “Sorry, Blake. I know you’re just trying to help.”
Blake grinned, unbothered, his smile slightly crooked. For the first time, I really saw the family resemblance between him and Dominic.
“No problem,” he said. “I appreciate feisty omegas.”
I ignored his quip. “The Historical Society has records going back generations. Property deeds, business licenses, family histories. If someone’s trying to build a case or cover their tracks, those documents would be goldmines.”
“We need to go to the Historical Society,” I said as Blake ushered us to his car. “Tonight, after the police finish their investigation.”
Blake opened the passenger door for me. “You’re running on pure adrenaline. You need rest before—”
“I need answers.” I retorted, my stubborn independence reasserting itself now that the immediate crisis had passed. “Someone framed Dominic to keep us from investigating whatever’s really happening in the district. The Historical Society break-in isn’t coincidence—it’s connected. I’m sure of it.”
Jake nodded slowly. “I keep thinking about Boston. My boss there… there were always weird things happening. People would talk about ‘taking care of problems’ and documents would just disappear.” His fingers knotted together anxiously as he spoke.
“I thought it was just everyday business drama, but what if it wasn’t?
What if I was working around this kind of stuff the whole time and just too naive to see it? ”
Blake studied the three of us with the calculating look of someone weighing risks against potential intelligence gains. Finally, he nodded. “Fine. But we go together, and we’re careful. Mobsters won’t hesitate to eliminate people who ask too many questions… even omega civilians.”
His words should have terrified me. Instead, they sparked something fierce and protective in my chest. My mate was locked away, my community was under threat, and someone thought they could intimidate us into compliance.
They were about to learn that underestimating an omega’s determination was a mistake.
The Historical Society’s front door hung askew on its hinges, yellow police tape creating a barrier that seemed almost offensively bright against the building’s weathered brick.
Shards of glass glittered across the marble steps as we stepped inside.
Whoever broke in had left a chaotic trail of destruction, papers and artifacts scattered like autumn leaves after a violent storm.
We found Adelaide in her office, her usually perfect composure cracked by stress and exhaustion.
“Leo!” She rushed forward as we approached, her beta scent sharp with anxiety. “I’m so sorry about Dominic. This whole situation is just awful.”
“Thank you,” I managed, though talking about the bail hearing felt like poking at a fresh wound. “What happened here?”
Adelaide’s expression darkened. “Professional job. They knew exactly what they were looking for—went straight to the archives. Other than trashing the place, they ignored all the valuable antiques and artwork. Whoever did this wanted specific documents.”
“What kind of documents?” Blake asked.
“Property records, mostly,” Adelaide said. “Deeds, architectural plans, family histories dating back to the 1970s.”
My curiosity stirred despite the emotional exhaustion. “That’s oddly specific. Why would someone want fifty-year-old paperwork?”
“Maybe for the same reason someone framed Dominic for corporate espionage?” Penny suggested. “To keep people from looking too closely at something they’d rather keep buried.”
“Doesn’t that seem a little far-fetched?” Adelaide asked. “The documents they took… they were mostly just records of the original development plans for the district renovation project back in 1973. Not exactly highly scandalous stuff.”
“The project that was suddenly abandoned after that young architect disappeared?” I asked quietly, the connection feeling significant in a way I couldn’t quite explain.
“Thomas Wong?” Adelaide looked surprised. “You know about his work on that project?“
“Just that he was working on it and several other historical preservation projects and then vanished.” I thought about the research I’d done during those sleepless nights, trying to understand the pressure campaigns targeting district businesses.
“What was in those files that someone would steal them fifty years later?”
“I don’t know,” Adelaide admitted. “But I made copies of some of the more interesting documents years ago, for a historical exhibit that never happened. If you think they might be relevant to what’s happening now…”
Blake’s expression sharpened. “We’d very much like to see those copies.”
Adelaide led us through the damage, pointing out overturned filing cabinets and empty archive boxes.
The conversation continued around me, but my attention drifted to the mating mark on my neck.
It was pulling again, that strange tugging sensation that felt like Dominic was trying to communicate across the distance.
I closed my eyes, concentrating on the feeling.
Irritation. Fierce protectiveness. A steady current of need that made my chest tight.
Hold on, I thought, pressing my fingers to the mark. I’m going to bring you home, my alpha.