I rushed from the pack house. My parents called out, asking where I was going.

"I'm going to get Aria back," I replied.

Jason wasn't home, but I informed him of my plans. I didn't want him to worry.

"Let's go," Eric said, opening his car door.

I hesitated. I wanted to go alone. Adrian had once questioned Eric's paternity of my children. I couldn't risk angering him and jeopardizing Aria.

"I want to go alone."

"No, I can't let you go alone to that man," Eric replied angrily.

"I'll make an excuse. Don't worry," I said.

"No. I can't trust that man. You didn't tell Jason, but if he finds out, he'll never forgive me for letting you go."

I pleaded, but he was adamant. Defeated, I got in the car. As he drove, my thoughts raced. I remembered my other child, Noah, consumed by guilt over Aria's disappearance while he was with her.

"I'm sorry, Mom," he'd repeated endlessly while I bought him and Aria ice cream.

He was just a child. It was my fault for not protecting them, giving Adrian the opportunity to blackmail me.

Throughout the silent drive, I prayed for Aria's safety. The fear that Adrian would harm her was overwhelming. If he'd tried to hurt me, he'd certainly hurt my children. I couldn't trust him at all.

The car stopped before a familiar hotel—the best in our pack. My father owned the hotel chain. A few days earlier, I'd had security checked, as it was popular with wealthy guests.

Eric opened the car door. I checked the message again: "Room Number 902."

"Let's ask at reception," Eric said, entering the hotel.

The receptionist recognized Eric, the pack's beta. She seemed surprised to see me, probably because of my father's announcement at last night's party.

"How may I help you?" she asked politely.

"Room Number 902," I replied impatiently.

"Sorry?"

"Where is room number 902?" Eric clarified.

She gave directions, looking confused. I stopped Eric as he started toward the room.

"Can I go alone? You're here. If anything happens, I'll call."

He hesitated, then nodded, seeing my resolve.

"I'm here. Just get Aria and come back. Don't speak to that man again. Since you've told him they aren't his children, you owe him no explanations."

I nodded and headed for the elevator. On the ninth floor, I found the room and knocked, my hand trembling. I hope you're okay, Aria, I thought.

The door opened, but not to Aria. It was room service.

He opened the door wide, saying, "Please, Madam."

Entering, I realized I was in the right room. The door closing behind me startled me. The room service attendant had left.

Ignoring everything, I went inside. It was a presidential suite. A child sat at a table, eating brownies.

"ARIA!"

I lunged forward, but another voice stopped me.

"Why the rush?"

Adrian. He sat on a couch, surrounded by men in black—his guards. Jason had mentioned he was here with his beta and Lynda. Who were these men?

Adrian was smoking, his eyes fixed on me.

"What? You can employ my guards, but I can't borrow a few of yours?" he sneered.

They were my brother's guards! How had they betrayed him?

"Mommy?"

Aria ran to me. I knelt, hugging her.

"How are you, baby?" I kissed her cheeks, relieved she was unharmed.

"Mommy, I missed you. But the handsome uncle gave me lots of food."

I frowned. "Didn't I tell you not to eat from strangers?"

What if Adrian had drugged her?

Adrian scoffed. I stood, taking Aria's hand to leave. The guards blocked our exit.

"Let me go."

Adrian rose, approaching us.

"Ungrateful woman! You lost your child, and now you're leaving without thanking me."

I glared. "Name your price."

He chuckled, tossing his cigarette. "Do you have anything to offer?"

"Worship you?" I mocked.

His eyes darkened. He gestured to his guards.

"Take the child inside."

They pulled Aria away. "No!" I shouted, holding her close.

Aria looked confused.

"They won't harm her. If they dare, they'll be dead," Adrian said, warning his guards with a look.

"Mommy, I'll be fine. Uncle wants to talk to you," Aria said.

Had Adrian brainwashed her?

The guards took her to another room, leaving us alone.

"Let's talk, Natalia Hansely."

I turned to him, seething.

"Who is your children's father?"

He waited serenely.

"He's dead," I replied.

He scowled. He's dead to me, I thought.