Page 80 of Isla

Harrison

Icheckedintothe Four Seasons hotel, in the city of London, close to all the tourists spots. Not that I was planning on being a tourist. The only sight I wanted to see was Isla as she smiled at me and hopefully holding out her arms and telling me how much she missed me—how much she loved me.

I wasn’t holding out too much hope. She didn’t contact me, but now I wasn’t waiting any longer. It was time to win back my omega, but first and foremost, she was my wife.

The private investigator picked me up from the hotel, first driving me to the place Noah lived. A large house surrounded by nine feet walls and a large double wooden gated entrance that protected everyone inside the perimeter.

It was hard to see the actual house, or if Isla was inside it. But Mart, the private investigator, said he hadn't seen her once, and I trusted his judgement. Otherwise, why was Noah trying to find her?

The gates opened and a Porsche sports car drove out of the grounds. The driver inside showed a man with dark blonde hair and tanned skin.

Noah.

“Do you want me to follow the car or go to the place we think is her apartment?” Mart asked.

“Follow him, because we know he is looking for her,” I said.

Mart pulled the car away from the parking space and followed the black sports car at a discreet distance.

“Is her apartment far from here?” I asked. We were half an hour by car from London, which I thought was strange considering Isla never lived with her alpha. Normally, once an alpha had his sights set on an omega, he wanted her as close to him as possible—not living in the city among other alphas, with the chance of being scented—taken even. No, Noah didn’t lock her in his cage or behind his high walls.

His behaviour was strange for an alpha.

“London, I’ll take you once we’ve worked out where he is going,” Mart said.

Half an hour later, Noah pulled into a parking space in London. “This is the apartment block I think she lives in, but I’ve waited for hours and not seen her, but Noah keeps coming here,” Mart said as he pulled the car in behind Noah’s.

We watched as he slammed the door to his car, shrugged a coat over his shoulders.

“No need to get out of the car. Roll the window down a little because that’s the entrance.” Mart said. “I’ll pretend I’m on the phone.”

Noah pushed at the entrance door to the apartment block, jamming his finger on number eleven. There was no answer each time, but it didn’t stop him from shouting into the panel.

He pulled his cell from his pocket, scanned his contacts, and waited. “Hi Tilly, Noah here. Are you sure you haven’t seen Isla since she got back?”

Our car was behind him, and I tried to listen to the other end of the call. I could only hear a female voice, but not her words.

“It isn’t over! She is my omega!” he yelled into his cell as he listened again. “I don’t care what Isla told you, she is going to marry me.”

He cracked his neck, left to right, as he gripped his cell.

“She’s there, isn’t she? I’m coming now,” he barked.

His shoulders were rising and falling fast as he listened to the caller.

“That isn’t fair Tilly,” he said, almost too quietly as he opened his car door and sat inside and talked. “I didn’t cheat on her. She was the one that entered an already ongoing relationship.” He hesitated and yelled, “Of course, she didn’t know. Why would I tell her? She is an omega!”

“Hello... hello... Tilly, are you there... fuck!” he yelled and threw his cell onto the passenger seat.

We sat behind him as the rain poured onto the windscreen of the car, the wipers and rain obscuring us from Noah’s view.

“What now? Follow Noah or wait for her to return?” Mart asked.

Isla was hardly likely to go to Noah’s home. I knew that because Mart stalked his house for nearly a week and not once did she go there.

But who was this Tilly he spoke with? Her best friend? A sister?

I wished I asked her more questions about her life.

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