Page 31 of The Billionaire Alpha's Surprise Baby

“Why don’t I have Robert drive you home?” asks Hyacinthe, interrupting my train of thought.

While I don’t want to walk away and raise this baby without Garrett, I know I don’t belong here. And even though I know that Hyacinthe isn’t looking out for me, I find myself nodding.

Chapter Eleven

Garrett

The lights are on downstairs when I come bursting through the front door. Ava’s sweet vanilla scent lingers in the hallway, but it doesn’t put my wolf at ease.

I walk into the living room, and my gaze snags on the oversized wine glass sitting on the floor. A splash of fine Argentinian Malbec hovers over the white carpet, almost like a silent “fuck you” to the world.

Something isn’t right.

I inhale deeply and recoil at the stench of my sister’s obnoxious floral perfume. The whole house reeks of the stuff. I’ve gotten used to it over the years, but the scent is stronger than it should be, unless Hyacinthe was just here.

Unease thrums in my chest as I take the stairs two at a time and burst through the door to my room. The bed is still unmade, but Ava is nowhere in sight.

Shit.

My wolf rises to the surface, frantic and ferocious. I’m possessed by a feral rage as I storm down the hallway to my sister’s room and kick the door wide open.

“Where — is she?” I growl at Hyacinthe.

My sister is hunched on her four-poster king bed, painting her toenails a shade of blood red. Five or six pill bottles are crowded around an open wine bottle on her nightstand, a few of them lying on their sides like fallen soldiers.

She looks up hazily as I walk in, and her mouth stretches in a cruel smile. “Well, good evening, brother. You could knock next time. I might have been indecent.”

“There’s nothing decent about you, Cinthy,” I say, using my boyhood nickname for her since I know it grates on her nerves.

Her eyes scrunch in a hateful expression, and my hands ball into fists. “Tell me where she is.”

Hyacinthe emits a breathy laugh, and her smile widens to reveal sharp white canines. I’m sure she can smell my desperation, but I’m also oozing fury.

“On her way home, I expect,” my sister says with a careless shrug.

“Why would she be on her way home?” I rumble. I’m so angry I can barely see straight, and my wolf is snapping at his leash. “What — did you — do?”

“I didn’t do anything, brother,” says Hyacinthe in that infuriating high-and-mighty tone of hers. “Your little whore interrupted me while I was reading in the living room. She seemed so . . . infatuated with you.” Hyacinthe’s nostrils flare in disgust. “I felt sorry for the poor thing.” She shrugs. “I may have shared a little of your past — just so she knew what she was getting herself into.”

My sister’s overpowering perfume drifts into my airways, setting off a dull throb in my temples. I want to strangle Hyacinthe and then let my wolf out so he can tear her limb from limb.

I don’t care that she’s family. I don’t care that my father would disown me. My sister is a demonic bitch who deserves to die a painful death.

In two strides, I’m across the room. Hyacinthe can’t weigh more than a hundred pounds soaking wet, and I have shifter strength on my side. My hand closes around her throat, and I slam her against the wall.

I see the terror in her eyes a second before her face starts to turn an ugly reddish-purple.

“Where is she?” I yell, causing my sister to wince.

I ease up on her throat just a bit, and she claws desperately at my hand. “I don’t — know,” she rasps, her voice low and broken, and I’m satisfied that I’ve crushed her windpipe.

Hyacinthe looks up at me, her eyes the same liquid silver as my own when I’m on the verge of the change. I tighten my grip on her once again, keeping her pinned to the wall.

“How did she leave?” I hiss. “She didn’t have a car.”

My sister doesn’t answer. She’s too busy struggling to break my hold as alarm bells go off in her head. She isn’t getting enough oxygen, and she’s on the verge of passing out.

I can’t let that happen.

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