Chapter 48: Avoiding me

Harriet took a deep breath, wiping a stray tear from her cheek as she folded the document and hid it in her pocket. "I won't tell him," she whispered, her voice hardening with a sudden, deep sense of betrayal. "I promise."

The sky was just beginning to turn a pale, cold grey when Harriet slipped back into the master bedroom of the Edwin mansion. The house was dead silent. She quickly threw off her coat and slid back under the heavy duvet, her body shivering slightly from the morning chill.

A few hours later, the sun broke through the curtains, filling the room with a pale yellow light.

Charles stirred awake, his large frame immediately moving out of habit. He reached out blindly across the mattress, his massive hand sliding down toward her hip, intending to pull her back against his chest and bury his face in her neck just like he did every single morning.

The moment his fingers touched her skin, Harriet instantly shifted away. Her body went completely rigid, her back stiffening as she slid closer to the edge of the bed, creating a wide, cold gap between them.

"Don't," Harriet said, her voice tight and flat. "I have a terrible headache, Charles. My stomach hurts, and I think I need to throw up."

Charles’s hand froze in mid-air. The sudden rejection hung heavy in the room. He slowly sat up, the blankets falling to his waist, his jaw clenching so hard the muscles in his face turned rigid. His dark eyes fixed onto the back of her head, his inner wolf instantly growling at the sudden, freezing distance coming from his mate.

"A headache?" Charles asked, his voice low, deep, and completely devoid of the usual morning warmth.

"Yes," Harriet said, not turning around as she got out of bed and walked toward the dressing room. "I am just stressed. I told you, the gala is too close."

An hour later, Harriet was standing in front of the vanity mirror, adjusting her clothes. Charles walked into the dressing room, fully dressed in his black suit, his presence completely filling the small space. He stepped up behind her, his large hands coming up to grip her shoulders as he leaned down to press his lips against the side of her neck.

Harriet flinched. It was a tiny, split-second movement, but her shoulder jerked away from his mouth instinctively, her eyes widening in the mirror as she pulled back.

Charles stopped completely. He stood up to his full height, his eyes turning pitch-black as he stared at her reflection. The atmosphere in the dressing room became instantly suffocating, thick with the heavy, angry aura of an Alpha who had just been rejected by his own mate.

"What is wrong with you today, Harriet?" Charles demanded, his voice dropping into a register that was dangerously calm, like the silence before a storm. "You are cold. You look at me like you are looking at a stranger."

Harriet’s heart was hammering against her ribs, but she kept her face blank, forcing herself to look at him through the glass. "I told you, Charles. I am just stressed about the gala fabrics. Jojo is completely losing her mind at the workshop, and I need to get there early to check the lead designs. I don't have time for this right now."

She didn't wait for him to reply. She grabbed her purse from the counter, walked right past his large frame without touching him, and hurried out of the bedroom, the heavy door clicking shut behind her.

Charles stayed standing alone in the middle of the dark dressing room, his hands clenching into tight fists at his sides.

A few minutes later, the air inside Charles’s private study was thick and oppressive. The heavy scent of leather, old books, and the furious, dark aura of an angry Alpha filled every corner of the room.

Charles sat behind his massive mahogany desk, his hands flat on the polished wood. Standing directly across from him were Henry and Jojo, both of them looking completely unsettled by the terrifying energy radiating from the man in front of them.

"Who got to her?" Charles asked. His voice wasn't loud, but it carried a deadly, animalistic weight that made the hairs on the back of Henry’s neck stand up.

Henry blinked, his brow furrowing in genuine confusion. "What do you mean, Charles? Who got to who?"

"Harriet," Charles hissed, his eyes narrowing into sharp, lethal slits. "She is lying to me. Her scent is full of anxiety, and she flinched when I touched her this morning. Someone spoke to her yesterday. Someone put a doubt in her head. I want to know who it was."

Jojo stepped forward, shaking her head quickly. "Boss, you are overthinking this. She was completely fine when she got off the helicopter yesterday. I was with her the entire afternoon at the fashion house. Nobody got past the front gate security except the regular fabric delivery boys and the interns. She is just incredibly nervous about the launch gala. It is her big comeback after years of being hidden away. She’s just stressed."

"She isn't stressed about the gala," Charles growled, standing up from his chair slowly, his massive frame casting a long shadow across the desk. "My wolf knows the difference between nerves and betrayal. She is hiding something deep from me. Henry, did your people check every single person who entered the building?"

"Every single one," Henry said, his voice serious now as he realized how dangerous Charles’s mood was. "The perimeter was sealed. If anyone from Evelyn’s side or the Rue family tried to approach her, my guards would have taken them out before they even reached the sidewalk. Nobody spoke to her, Charles."

Charles didn't believe a single word. His instincts were screaming at him, the primal bond in his blood telling him that his mate had crossed a line she shouldn't have crossed.

"Leave," Charles commanded flatly.

Henry and Jojo didn't hesitate. They turned on their heels and quickly exited the study, closing the heavy wooden door behind them, leaving the Alpha alone in the tense silence.

The moment the door clicked shut, Charles reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. His face was completely stone-like, his jaw tight as he dialed a secure, encrypted line. He placed the phone to his ear, his breathing deep and ragged as his wolf pushed closer to the surface.

The call connected after a single ring.

"Alpha?" Bluey’s voice answered from the other end, crisp and ready.

"Bluey," Charles said, his voice turning completely flat, dangerous, and animalistic as he stared out the window at the grey city below. "I want you to track my wife’s phone, her personal car, and every single step she took yesterday. Run the security cameras around the fashion house and the estate from midnight to dawn. I want to know exactly where she has been, and exactly who she met."