Page 40 of The Alpha's Crimson Vow

He exhales, like he’s bracing himself. “We didn’t find anything suspicious near your house or your usual routes. But…” His voice falters slightly, and he leans forward, folding his hands in his lap. “I did find something.”

The way he says it, carefully, sends a chill crawling up my spine. My patience, already thin, is hanging by a thread. “What did you find, James?”

James hesitates for a moment before speaking, his tone almost apologetic. “This is going to be difficult to hear, Ms. Lockhart,” he says softly. “While reviewing footage, I decided to include the routes to your parents’ villa. Given the nature of what happened to you, I thought it was worth looking at footage from the day of their accident.”

My blood runs cold.

“The footage from that day was scrambled,” he explains. “It raised red flags immediately. So I took it back to my team. We’ve been working on unscrambling it, and now we have a clear view of exactly what happened.”

He reaches down, pulling a laptop from his briefcase. He sets it on my desk, turning the screen toward me. On it is a black-and-white feed of a familiar road, the one leading to my parents’ estate.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Lockhart,” he says quietly, his face lined with sympathy. “This won’t be easy to watch.”

He clicks play.

My eyes lock on the screen, my pulse pounding in my ears. My parents’ car appears, moving fast, too fast, as if they’re being chased. And then I see it. A black Jeep, no license plates, speeding behind them, slamming into their rear bumper with a sickening force.

My breath catches. My nails dig into the wood of my desk.

The Jeep rams them again, relentless, like a predator toying with its prey. My parents’ car swerves, struggling to stay on the road, but the Jeep doesn’t let up. It pulls up alongside them and slams into their side. The car veers off the road, spinning out of control before disappearing into the trees.

The footage cuts off.

My vision blurs, and for a moment, I can’t move, can’t breathe.

I never questioned it—not once. I believed what they told me, that my parents were in an accident. That the car lost control. I saw the wreckage, it was so mangled, so unrecognizable, there was no reason to suspect anything more.

But now… Seeing this…

Everything I thought I knew shatters like glass.

James’ voice breaks through the haze. “I’m sorry, Ms. Lockhart,” he says, his tone heavy with regret. “Your parents didn’t die in an accident. They were murdered. And whoever is responsible… we believe it’s the same person who targeted you last week.”

I can’t speak. My throat is too tight, my chest too heavy. My hands tremble against the desk.

James offers a few more apologies, but they barely register. He packs up his things quietly and slips out of the room, leaving me alone with the crushing weight of what I’ve just seen.

Mom. Dad. They were murdered.

The words echo in my mind, over and over, until I feel like I’m going to shatter. My heart pounds erratically, my breathing shallow and ragged.

I can’t stay here. I can’t sit still, not when every nerve in my body is screaming to move, to do something.

I rise from my chair, my legs shaky but determined. My mind clings to one thought: Alex.

I need him. I need his arms around me, his voice grounding me, his strength holding me together when I’m about to fall apart.

Without another thought, I grab my bag and head for the door, my steps hurried, my vision blurred with tears. The hallway feels endless as I push through it, desperate to reach him. To tell him. To not be alone in this unbearable moment.

I drive faster than I should, gripping the steering wheel so tightly my knuckles start to hurt. The tears keep coming, no matter how much I try to blink them away, blurring the road ahead. My chest feels like it’s been cracked open, raw and exposed, and my mind is spinning with too much—too much grief, too much anger, too much confusion. I need Alex.

When I pull up to my apartment, I don’t even bother parking straight. The car jerks to a halt, and I’m out the door in an instant, not caring about the slam of metal as it shuts behind me. My legs feel unsteady beneath me, trembling as I climb the stairs, but I push through. My breaths come out shallow and uneven by the time I fumble the key into the lock, hands shaking so badly it takes longer than it should.

The door finally swings open, and I rush inside. The air feels still, the apartment too quiet except for the sound of my own ragged breathing.

“Alex?” My voice cracks, but there’s no answer. My heart is racing now, my pulse a steady drum in my ears.

The living room is empty, but my feet seem to know where to take me. They carry me down the hall to the bedroom, and I stop at the door. It’s slightly ajar, just enough for me to catch a glimpse of him inside.

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