The Alpha Behind The Mask-Chapter 52: The Next Morning

​Aurora’s POV

​I woke slowly, the morning light filtering through my thin curtains and stinging my eyes. For a moment, everything felt like a dream, until I shifted and felt the dull ache in my inner thighs and the sensitized peaks of my breasts.

​The memories rushed back in a violent flood: the alley, the blood, the silk scarf over my eyes, and the heavy, dominant heat of Raymond.

I noticed the space beside me was empty, the sheets cold. He was gone. I sat up, clutching the blanket to my chest, my heart racing as I scanned the tiny room for any sign that he was still there. Then my eyes fell on something, and my brow furrowed.

​I rushed to the small kitchen area, my bare feet hitting the cold floor as I stared down at the bags. My heart hammered against my ribs. These weren’t just groceries; they were high-end groceries. Sticking out of the top of the heavy paper bags were items I hadn’t touched in years—not since my parents were alive. There was high-end, organic coffee that probably cost more than my weekly transit pass, imported cheeses, artisan bread still smelling of rosemary, and expensive cuts of steak wrapped in butcher paper. There were even fresh strawberries, their sweet scent filling the air.

​A note was stuck to one of them. When I pulled it off and read it, it said: I have somewhere to be, so I couldn’t wait for you to wake up. Make yourself breakfast and call me if anything comes up.

​I swallowed hard. Why was he acting so perfect? Does he act this way toward every girl he wants?

​I left the note and the groceries on the table and went back to my bed. Slumping onto it, my thoughts began to go wild. What happened last night began playing in my mind like a movie. Last night, I killed someone, and then Raymond helped me. Then... we almost had sex.

​I shook my head, then my eyes drifted to the picture of my parents on my nightstand. My eyes widened. "Shit!" I cursed under my breath.

​Did he see it? Did he recognize my parents as some of his victims, or were his victims so numerous that he can’t even keep track of them? I swallowed hard as unease crept into my stomach. What if he knows? What if he wants to kill me?

​I was panicking when the loud, sharp ringing of my phone startled me. My heart jumped into my throat, my first thought being the police. I swallowed hard and reached for the device on the nightstand.

My eyes widened when I saw the name flashing on the screen: Alpha Oliver.

​A surge of sudden annoyance and anger flared in my chest. I glared at the phone, my grip tightening around it. Now he was calling? After I had practically called him more than fifty times last night and he ignored them all. 𝗳𝚛𝚎𝚎𝘄𝕖𝕓𝕟𝕠𝚟𝚎𝕝.𝗰𝕠𝐦

​I took a breath, trying to steady my voice, and swiped to answer. "Good morning, Alpha Oliver," I said, my tone as dry as bone.

​He was silent for a long heartbeat before he spoke, his voice cool and reluctant. "I saw you gave me missed calls."

​"Yes," I replied, my voice dry. "Fifty missed calls."

​"For what?"

​That was it. No apology for not picking up. No explanation as to why he didn’t answer. No concern in his tone. Nothing.

​I swallowed the sudden, sharp pain in my throat. The masked assassin who had destroyed my life had stayed to cook for me and hold me through my nightmares, but my own boss—a man I thought was more than just a boss—couldn’t even manage to care.

​"I needed your urgent help for something," I said, my voice trembling with suppressed rage, "but it has been sorted out."

​"Okay," he simply said.

​I waited. My heart hammered against my ribs, waiting for the follow-up—waiting for him to ask what it was, or how it was sorted out, or if I was even alright. But the silence stretched on, cold and empty. He didn’t care. To him, I was just a girl who kept his schedule organized.

​"So," he finally added, his voice like a shutter closing. "I’ll see you in the office."

​"Yes," I whispered.

​He ended the call without another word.

I stared at the dead screen, a single tear of frustration escaping and tracing a path down my cheek. "I hate you," I whispered to the empty room. I didn’t know why it hurt so much; maybe it was because I expected so much from him.

​I forced myself to move, my body feeling heavy and battered. I walked to the bathroom, catching my reflection in the mirror, and winced. The marks on my neck were darkening—deep, bruised reminders of Raymond’s mouth. My inner thighs still stung with every step I took, a constant, thrumming reminder of the spanks he had given me.

​I spent the next thirty minutes layering thick concealer and wrapping a silk scarf tightly around my throat, hiding the evidence of the night. When I finally reached the top floor of the packhouse, which served as the office building, I realized Alpha Oliver was already at work.

​Swallowing hard, I walked over to his office door, knocked, and his authoritative voice signaled me in. Stepping into the office, I saw him standing by the floor-to-ceiling window, his back to me. His suit jacket was off, and his white shirt was stretched tight across his powerful shoulders—the exact same build as the man who had been in my bed hours ago.

​He didn’t turn around. "You’re late, Aurora," he said, sounding annoyed.

​I gripped my bag. My body still hurt from last night. "I’m sorry, Alpha Oliver. It won’t happen again."

​He finally turned around. His eyes were hard. He looked at me from head to toe, and I felt a prickle of fear. Could he see the makeup hiding the marks on my neck? Could he tell I was walking differently because of the pain in my thighs?

​He walked closer, stopping just inches away. The room felt even colder now. "Why are you wearing a scarf?" he asked, narrowing his eyes. "It is warm outside."

​My heart beat fast. "I... I felt a bit cold this morning," I lied, my voice shaking.

​He didn’t move. He just stared at me with those piercing eyes. For a second, I saw something in his look—perhaps suspicion. He reached out his hand, his fingers moving toward my throat. I jumped back quickly.

​His hand stopped in the air. His face became blank again.

​"You are jumpy," he said. He didn’t ask why. He didn’t ask if I was okay. He just pointed to some files on his desk. "Finish those by noon. And Aurora?"

​"Yes?" I whispered.

​"One call is enough."

​I swallowed hard, my heart sinking into my stomach.

​"Apologies," I whispered.

​He nodded and turned his back to me, signaling he was done with me.

​