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The Heiress And Her Alpha's Secret Twins Novel Cover

The Heiress And Her Alpha's Secret Twins

After a gala she can't remember, she wakes bruised and ruined. Two months later, a pregnancy test seals her fate. Her fiancé publicly shames her, her sister Vivian smirks in triumph, and her father casts her out to protect the family name. Penniless and disgraced, she flees the country, raising twins in secret while haunted by the faceless stranger from that night. Six years pass. She returns as Ada, an underground medical legend. When a dying Alpha billionaire is brought to her clinic, his face mirrors her son's—and the truth she never dared imagine begins to surface.
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Chapter 3

Haven POV:

The air outside the airport was thick and familiar, a mix of jet fuel and city humidity that I hadn't realized I'd missed. I took a deep breath, my eyes scanning the curb. My gaze was no longer that of a frightened girl, but of a predator assessing its territory.

"Mommy, is that our car?" Aria asked, pointing at a sleek, black SUV that pulled up smoothly in front of us.

"Yes, sweetie," I said, a small smile touching my lips.

Caleb, ever the little man, was already maneuvering his small suitcase, his other hand firmly holding his sister's. He watched the driver with a cool, appraising look until the man had loaded all our luggage.

"The Sanctuary is ready for your arrival, Dr. Ada," the driver said respectfully once we were settled inside.

I nodded. "Thank you, Mark."

On the seat between the twins, Caleb had already pulled out a mini-tablet. His small fingers flew across the screen, lines of code scrolling past too quickly for a normal person to read. He was building a new firewall for my clinic's network, just for fun.

My phone buzzed with a message from my assistant. Ada, all is prepared. Welcome back.

The Sanctuary. It was my secret, my fortress. A state-of-the-art, off-the-books medical facility I had built with the money I'd earned as 'Ada,' the mysterious healer who could fix injuries no one else could touch. It was hidden in plain sight, occupying the top floors of a nondescript office building downtown.

The SUV descended into the building's private underground parking garage. The security was heavy, even here. The vehicle stopped in a reserved spot right next to a private elevator.

I helped the children out of the car. We were the only ones here, the silence of the concrete garage pressing in on us.

As I was about to lead them to the elevator, Aria stopped dead. She pointed a small finger towards the far, dimly lit corner of the garage.

"Mommy," she whispered, her voice tight. "There's a man over there."

I froze, instantly on high alert. I followed her gaze. A large, dark luxury car was parked haphazardly, one of its doors ajar. A tall figure was slumped against it, motionless.

A metallic, coppery smell hung in the air. Blood. And something else... a powerful, almost electric presence that made the hair on my arms stand up. It felt like the air before a thunderstorm.

"Caleb, stay here with your sister. Don't move," I commanded in a low voice.

He nodded, his small face serious as he pulled Aria behind him.

I moved forward cautiously, my footsteps echoing in the quiet garage. As I got closer, my breath caught in my throat. The man wasn't slumped. He was collapsed. He lay in a rapidly expanding pool of his own blood.

His chest was a mess of torn fabric and flesh. There were several deep, vicious-looking wounds, and their edges had a strange, silvery-black charring, as if they'd been cauterized by a supernatural heat.

Silver.

My blood ran cold. These were silver wounds. The only thing that could be instantly fatal to a werewolf.

The man's breathing was a shallow, rattling gasp. He was in shock, his life fading with every passing second. My first instinct, a powerful urge for self-preservation, screamed at me to turn around, grab my children, and run. I had come back for a specific purpose: to heal my grandmother and reclaim what was mine. Getting involved with pack business, especially a violent attack like this, was a complication I couldn't afford.

But then, Aria broke free from Caleb's grasp and ran to my side. Her big eyes, so full of empathy, fixed on the bleeding man. "Mommy, he's hurt so bad," she whispered, her little face pale with distress. "You have to help him. Please."

I was about to refuse, to tell her it was too dangerous, when the man's hand twitched. The movement shifted his sleeve just enough to reveal a tattoo on his wrist: the snarling head of a wolf, the unmistakable crest of the Blackwood Pack.

My heart gave a painful lurch. The Blackwood Pack was the most powerful, most ruthless pack in the entire region. Their Alpha was a man spoken of in whispers, a formidable and unforgiving leader. Leaving one of his own to die on my doorstep would be a death sentence of a different kind.

Caleb walked over, his eyes methodically scanning our surroundings. "The security feed for this section was looped for five minutes," he stated calmly, looking at his tablet. "It just came back online. The attackers are gone."

I was trapped. Saving him meant inviting the politics and violence of the Blackwood Pack into my life. Letting him die meant violating every oath I held as a healer, breaking my daughter's heart, and possibly earning the pack's wrath anyway.

Aria tugged on my jacket, her eyes pleading. "Please, Mommy?"

That look, so full of innocent trust, shattered my resolve. I let out a long, weary sigh. This was a terrible idea.

"Caleb," I said, my voice resigned. "Go to the elevator. Inside, there's an emergency supply closet. Bring me the portable gurney. And then, I need you to wipe the last ten minutes of footage from every camera in this garage. Make it look like we were never here."

"Easy," he said with a nod, already tapping away at his tablet as he ran to the elevator.

I knelt beside the man, my professional instincts taking over. I quickly assessed his injuries. The silver fragments were lodged deep in his chest, dangerously close to his heart and spine. He needed a fully equipped operating room, and he needed it five minutes ago.

Caleb returned with the gurney. Together, we managed to haul the man's heavy, unconscious body onto it. Just as the private elevator doors slid shut, sealing us inside, Caleb looked up from his tablet.

"Data erased," he confirmed.

I looked down at the man on the gurney. His handsome face was smeared with blood and grime, but even unconscious and near death, he radiated an aura of raw power and authority.

I had a sinking feeling that I had just saved a man who was going to bring nothing but trouble into my life.

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