After My Alpha Fathered A Child With His Mistress

The morning after signing the contract with Keegan, I woke to a gentle knock on the penthouse door. My body ached from the mate bond's pull—a constant reminder of Enzo trying to draw me back like a puppet on strings.

"Ms. Bennett," Keegan's deep voice carried through the door. "There's someone I'd like you to meet."

I smoothed my hair and opened the door to find Keegan standing beside a lean, weathered man with calculating eyes.

"This is Marcus Webb," Keegan introduced him. "The best Tracker Wolf in three territories."

Marcus nodded, his gaze assessing me with clinical precision. "Your scent carries pain," he observed bluntly. "The mate bond?"

"Yes," I admitted, uncomfortable with how easily he read me.

"We need to find the physical evidence of Enzo's affair," Keegan explained, his hand briefly touching my shoulder. "Marcus will track Kyra's movements over the past few years."

"I'll need something personal of hers," Marcus said. "Hair, clothing, anything with her scent."

I reached into my pocket and pulled out a small vial. "I... collected this from her brush at the pack house yesterday."

Marcus's eyebrows rose slightly. "You anticipated needing evidence?"

"I've been preparing for something to go wrong for months," I confessed. "I just didn't know what."

Keegan's expression softened almost imperceptibly. "You're smarter than they gave you credit for."

---

"Focus on your breathing," Keegan instructed later that afternoon as we sat in his office. The mate bond had flared painfully, and I'd doubled over, gasping.

"In through your nose, out through your mouth," he demonstrated, his large hands steadying my shoulders. "Imagine the bond as a rope. Don't fight it directly—instead, create a wall around it."

I followed his guidance, visualizing a thick wall of stone between myself and Enzo. The pain receded slightly.

"Better?" he asked.

"Yes," I managed. "How did you know this would work?"

A shadow crossed his face. "Let's just say I've seen many wolves struggle with broken bonds."

His hand lingered on my shoulder a moment too long, and something electric passed between us. Luna stirred within me, suddenly alert and interested.

*He smells like safety,* she whispered in my mind.

---

"Dr. Morris," Keegan's voice carried deadly authority as we stood outside the retired Healer's luxury condo that evening. "I know you're home."

The door opened a crack, revealing a nervous older man. "The Alpha sent you to kill me?"

"No," I said softly. "We need the truth."

Inside, the condo was immaculate but smelled of fear. Dr. Morris paced nervously as Keegan questioned him.

"The medical records showing Enzo's sterility—they were falsified," Keegan stated rather than asked.

Dr. Morris's eyes darted to the window, calculating an escape route.

"Don't," Keegan warned, his eyes flashing silver. "Where are the original files?"

When the Healer remained silent, Keegan released a wave of Alpha power that made even me gasp. "As Enforcer for the Lycan Council, I command you to speak."

The doctor wilted. "In the safe," he whispered, pointing to a painting on the wall.

Minutes later, we had the proof—detailed medical records showing Enzo had been perfectly healthy all along, and receipts for payments from my own accounts to ensure the Healer's silence.

"He paid you with my money," I said numbly, staring at the evidence of years of betrayal.

---

"This is where it gets interesting," Keegan murmured hours later as we spread documents across the dining table in the penthouse.

It was nearly midnight, but neither of us showed signs of fatigue. We'd ordered Chinese food, and empty containers littered the table alongside bank statements and financial records.

"Look at these transfers," I said, pointing to a series of payments labeled "consulting fees" from the Training Center construction budget.

Keegan leaned closer, his shoulder brushing mine. "Five thousand every month for three years."

"To this company," I traced the name with my finger. "Pine Ridge Holdings."

Marcus had returned with his findings—a cabin in neutral territory, registered to Pine Ridge Holdings. The same company that received monthly payments.

"Kyra's car is registered to them too," Marcus added, sliding another document across the table.

I felt a strange calm settle over me as the pieces fell into place. "And this," I said, pulling out another statement, "shows monthly transfers to an account in her name."

Keegan's eyes met mine, respect evident in their depths. "You have a gift for this."

"I learned from the best," I replied, thinking of my father who'd taught me to track pack finances before his death.

As we continued working into the night, something shifted between us. The formal distance gradually gave way to a comfortable intimacy. Keegan's occasional touches no longer startled me—instead, they felt like anchors in the storm of betrayal.

"The cabin," Marcus said suddenly, breaking our concentration. "It's still active. They're using it now."

Keegan's expression hardened. "Then it's time for a visit."

As I looked at him in the lamplight, I realized with startling clarity that whatever happened next would change everything.