Chapter 137

Nathan

We spent the remainder of the morning poring over what books were left, but found nothing more about Edward.

If Olivia’s aunt did record the history of my dad and his elusive brother, those records were here; but something told me that maybe, by the time she was prepared to write it all down, she was too old.

She was 83 when she passed away, after all. I never saw her much after Olivia and her father were evicted, but I was pretty certain that her health wasn’t the best. Maybe she didn’t have the strength to keep working on these records.

Or maybe she was scared.

The cold weight of the phone in my hand felt like the world, pressing in, making it hard to think. My fingers instinctively saved my mom’s voicemail, even as my brain struggled to process the panic in my mother’s voice.

Olivia was beside me, her expression one of silent support, her warm hand on my shoulder, grounding me. I forced a shaky breath, trying to hold back the whirlwind of emotions threatening to consume me. But the fear for my mother, the suspicion towards my father, the confusion about Edward, and now the implication of danger – they all fought for dominance.

“Nathan, we can’t lose focus,” Olivia’s gentle voice interrupted my turmoil. “You’ve got that Council meeting today. Remember?”

I looked up, my eyebrows furrowing. “With everything going on, how can I sit in some stuffy room with my father acting like nothing’s wrong?”

“It’s exactly because everything is happening that you should go,” she pressed. “If you act out of character, it might alert your father. For now, we need to keep the cards close to our chest.”

“I can’t shake the feeling that he’s involved, Liv,” I whispered, gripping the phone tighter.

She hesitated, searching my eyes. “You need to be sure before jumping to conclusions. I know it’s hard. But right now, we play it safe, okay?”

Nodding, I braced myself for the day ahead.

…

The Council chambers were alive with murmurs and discussions. The long wooden table had been polished to a shine, reflecting the overhead chandelier’s muted light. Each chair was occupied by a member of the Council, most of them my father’s loyalists.

As I took my seat, my eyes scanned the room until they landed on him. Colin. My father.

He sat at the head of the table, looking every bit the respectable leader he had been for years. He didn’t glance my way, but I studied him, trying to find any trace of guilt or fear. He looked... normal, as if it was just another day.

As if it was any other Council meeting, we discussed trivial matters. Land. Commerce. Production. The ‘monster’.

“This monster hasn’t been reported for a few days now,” one of the Alphas, Josephine, said. “Maybe it moved on.”

“Or it’s biding its time,” Mike replied, his voice gruff as he picked at his tooth with a wooden toothpick.

Yeah, right, I thought to myself. That ‘monster’ is a war veteran with PTSD. Maybe restoring his hand did calm him down a bit after all… Or it made him too depressed to even leave his house.

However, right now, I didn’t care about any of that. My eyes were locked on my father, searching for any hint of emotion in his expression. But there was nothing. His face betrayed nothing. Either he was a really good actor, or he was actually innocent and my ire was misdirected.

Was my own father really a part of this mystery?

Throughout the meeting, I fought to keep my attention on the discussions, the plans, and the decisions being made. My mind, however, kept drifting back to the voicemail, to Edward, and the ever-present worry about my mother.

When the meeting finally concluded, I gathered the courage to approach Colin.

“Dad?” My voice wavered just slightly.

He turned, a perfectly practiced smile on his face. “Nathan. Good to see you participating today. What can I do for you?”

“Is… Is Mom home yet?” I hesitated. “I wanted to talk to her about something.”

His eyes, which usually held no emotion when he looked at me, now seemed to show a spark of something else. Something icy. Calculating.

“Your mother won’t be home for a long time,” he replied, tone cold and dismissive.

The statement left a pit in my stomach. A long time? What did that mean?

My eyes narrowed, trying to decipher his expression, but his face was an unreadable mask.

“Alright,” I mumbled, my heart heavy with suspicion. “I’ll see her when she gets back, then.”

Without a word, I turned on my heel and made for the door. I was just about to leave when my father’s voice carried over to me.

“Nathan.”

I slowly turned, somehow hoping deep within me that he was going to tell me something important, something that would somehow save my image of him. But he didn’t.

“Have you talked to her?”

Swallowing, I shook my head. “Nope. That’s why I asked you. She must be really busy doing whatever she’s doing, since she’s not answering her phone.”

“I guess so.” My dad nodded slowly, his eyes fixed stonily on me. “She’s a busy woman.”

The ride back to the villa was a blur. Every fiber of my being wanted to drive straight to my father’s home, confront both him and Jenifer, to demand answers. But Olivia’s earlier words echoed in my ears—play it safe.

That night, I hardly slept. Each creak of the old villa, each rustle of the wind outside made me jolt upright, expecting the worst. The old villa’s familiar corners felt too pronounced. The darkness outside felt suffocating rather than relaxing. I felt trapped.

As I lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling, I couldn’t quiet my mind. More than once, I sat up with the intention of knocking on Olivia’s door, although I couldn’t quite place why I wanted to. I just… wanted her. With me. I wanted comfort.

But each time I sat up, I laid back down a moment later.

By the first rays of dawn, I’d made up my mind. Today, I would head to my father’s house. I had to see if my mom was alright.

Morning came, bringing with it an unusual sense of urgency. As I descended the staircase, heading towards the kitchen for a caffeine fix before heading out, I heard the unmistakable sound of knocking.

My heart leaped into my throat.

Olivia, who’d been sitting in the living room, shot me a worried look. We exchanged a glance, both understanding the gravity of the moment.

Approaching the door with caution, I tried to compose myself. But nothing could have prepared me for what awaited on the other side.

I opened the door to see a stern-faced police officer, his cap casting a shadow over his intent eyes. It was the same officer who had invited Olivia back to the pack.

“Mr. Nathan?” he asked, his voice firm but not unfriendly.

I nodded, my voice barely above a whisper. “Yes?”

“We need to talk,” he said, glancing past me to Olivia.

There was something ominous about his tone, something that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.