Caught by the Mad Alpha King-Chapter 350: Short new answers (Win-Win)

Dax kept his promise and made the meeting with Caelan as short as possible.

Meaning: he walked into the room, Caelan opened his mouth about the illegal experimentation labs, and Dax said a simple, final no, then turned and left without another word.

There were things that deserved negotiation. That wasn’t one of them.

He had another priority now, and it was waiting for him with crossed arms, a sharp mouth, and a heart that had decided that Saha was home.

They were technically still on their honeymoon, even if half the world insisted on treating their bond like a political event instead of a private miracle, and Dax refused to feed the capital more of their time than necessary. Leisure wasn’t a luxury to him. It was a boundary. A line drawn around Chris with the same instinct he used to draw borders on maps.

So he left the emperor where he stood, walked out like the subject was closed, and returned to the diplomatic house in less than an hour.

—

Andrew sat in the back of his car, his thoughts racing faster than his body could keep up.

He stared at the envelope in his hands as if it might change its contents out of spite. The paper was cream, the seal old, and the weight of it wrong - too heavy for something so thin. He had opened it once, read it twice, and still felt like someone had reached into his family’s bloodstream and rearranged the future with a pen.

Across from him, Beth sat at his right, elegant and quiet, her posture composed in that professional way that didn’t need softness to be kind. She didn’t fill the air with reassurance. She simply existed beside him like an ally who understood that panic was useless and clarity was a weapon.

Andrew’s jaw tightened.

"I should tell him," he said, voice low.

Beth’s gaze stayed on the window for a beat, watching the capital slide past in clean lines and expensive stone. "You should," she agreed, without hesitation. "But decide what you’re telling him first. Facts or conclusions."

Andrew let out a slow breath through his nose, a sound that wasn’t quite a laugh. "Both."

Beth glanced at him then, amber eyes steady. "Then lead with the facts. Let Chris choose what they mean."

Andrew nodded once, because that was what prosecutors did when they were trying to keep their hands from shaking. He looked down again.

The other night, Beth had handed him that envelope like she was offering him leverage, not comfort. He’d expected a bribe, a threat, or some LaRosa-level contingency plan.

He hadn’t expected a will.

Mattias Malek’s will.

His granduncle. A man who had died with a reputation intact and a family that insisted the past should stay buried because it looked better that way. A man whose last written act had just detonated half the Malek inheritance structure.

The will named Andrew’s father, Claude, as the heir to the viscount title.

Not Adonis Malek.

Not the man currently wanted, with Dax on his traces.

Andrew’s fingers tightened around the paper until the edge bit into his skin.

"And it’s valid?" He asked, not because he doubted Beth, but because he needed the question to be asked out loud.

"It’s valid," Beth confirmed. "Proper seals. Proper witnesses. Proper filing trail. Someone hid it, not forged it."

Andrew swallowed, his thoughts returning, inevitably, to the other part.

The part that wasn’t ink and tradition, but blood and asphalt.

He glanced up at the road ahead, then back down, his voice turning flatter as the emotion tried to rise and he forced it back into something usable.

"And the accident," he said.

Beth didn’t soften. "Your parents didn’t die because the universe was careless," she said evenly. "They died because someone decided they were inconvenient."

Andrew’s eyes burned. He blinked once, hard.

He still didn’t like Dax. He didn’t trust the king’s power, the way it moved faster than any law, or the way it could rewrite realities with a phone call.

But Dax had given him resources anyway.

Not because Andrew deserved them, and not because Dax cared about Andrew’s family politics, but because Chris existed at the center of it, and anything that could be used to corner Chris would be removed with prejudice.

Those resources had dragged information out of places Andrew couldn’t legally touch anymore.

And the conclusion was brutal in its simplicity: the crash had been premeditated.

The signs—patterns, money, timing—kept pointing back to Adonis.

Andrew tasted metal at the back of his throat, like his body remembered grief as something physical.

Beth’s hand moved, brief and discreet, her fingers touching his wrist once.

"You’re not crazy," she said quietly. "And you’re not overreacting."

Andrew stared at the diplomatic house as it came into view, guarded and immaculate, a place that looked like peace if you didn’t know what lived behind its doors.

"Chris is going to hate this," he murmured. 𝓯𝙧𝓮𝓮𝒘𝓮𝙗𝙣𝒐𝒗𝒆𝓵.𝓬𝓸𝒎

Beth’s mouth twitched faintly. "Chris hates most things that are true."

Andrew huffed, despite himself. "Fair."

The car slowed. Security shifted. The gate opened with controlled efficiency.

They passed the perimeter line, and Andrew felt the atmosphere change like the air had been trained to notice threats.

Beth angled her head toward the front as the driver stopped.

"This is where you decide the tone," she said. "If you walk in like you’re carrying a coffin, he’ll mirror it. If you walk in like you’re carrying a knife, he’ll ask who you want cut."

Andrew’s lips pressed together. "He’s married to Dax. I don’t think he needs more knives."

Beth’s eyes flicked to him. "He’s married to Dax," she corrected. "That’s exactly why he gets to know."

Andrew nodded once, then stepped out.

A guard approached, earpiece in, gaze scanning. Andrew gave his name. Beth gave hers with the smooth certainty of a woman who could defend herself in court and in a hallway.

They were let through.

A staff member led them down the corridor.

Andrew’s heart beat a little harder when he heard another set of steps approaching from the opposite end.

Dax.

The king moved through the house like it belonged to his bones, coat still on, expression composed, like he’d just cut a conversation off at the throat and hadn’t wasted a second feeling guilty about it. His gaze swept them in one glance, fast and precise.

"Andrew," Dax said, and it wasn’t friendly, but it wasn’t hostile either. It was acknowledgement. Permission to exist in the same space.

Beth dipped her head in the smallest nod, perfectly correct. "Your Majesty."

"Ah, Elisabeth LaRosa. Nice to see you again." Dax said with perfect charm. "Mia will arrive in an hour, but Chris is already waiting for you."

"Gods. That is perfect timing. I need to tell something to Chris." Andrew said, clenching the envelope.

"Do you now?" Dax asked tilting his head amused.