After One Night with the Alpha (Brad and Elle) novel Chapter 19

**The Billionaire Who Claimed My Heart and Who Broke Fate for Me**
**Chapter 19**

**Elle’s POV**

“Elle,” Alex said gently, a small smile gracing his lips. “The Alpha and the Council Chairwoman have decided that it would be in everyone’s best interest if you stayed here during your pregnancy. Your main focus now is the well-being of the Alpha’s child.”

I felt a surge of frustration as I folded my arms tightly across my chest. “I need to work, Alex. I can’t just sit here without any income.”

His expression softened, and I could see the sympathy in his eyes. “I completely understand where you’re coming from, but—”

“But nothing,” I interrupted, my heterochromatic eyes flashing with determination. “I can’t be cooped up in this house all day. It’s driving me crazy.” I reached for my phone on the nightstand, my mind already racing with possibilities. “I’m calling Brad.”

Alex hesitated, a flicker of concern crossing his face, but he eventually nodded and stepped back, granting me the space I needed.

As I scrolled through my contacts, I found Brad’s number—programmed into my phone under the label “for emergencies only.” My heart raced as I pressed dial, determined not to back down now.

“Elle,” Brad’s deep voice came through the line, resonating with authority. “Is everything okay with the baby?”

“The baby is fine,” I reassured him quickly, my voice steady. “But I’m not. I need to discuss something important with you.”

There was a brief moment of silence, a palpable tension hanging in the air.

“I’m listening,” he finally replied, his tone curious yet cautious.

I inhaled deeply, gathering my thoughts. “I want to come back to work at Rayne Group.”

I could almost hear the flick of his lighter as he processed my request. “You’re carrying my heir. Your job right now is to ensure the child’s health and safety.”

“I can do both,” I insisted, my voice firm. “Being trapped in this house all day is not good for me or the baby. I need something meaningful to occupy my mind.”

“Are you sure? What’s wrong with just staying home and resting?” His voice was low, almost hesitant.

“I know, Brad. I’m carrying your child, and I’m your mate now, right? That has to mean something.”

I could hear him exhale slowly, as if weighing my words carefully. “Come to my office this afternoon. We’ll discuss arrangements then.”

Before I could respond, he hung up, leaving me with a mix of hope and anxiety.

Two hours later, a package arrived for me. Inside was a shiny new company identification card featuring my photo and the title “CEO Assistant Team Leader.” The access level indicator revealed clearance for restricted werewolf areas, places that normal humans were not permitted to enter.

I stared at the card in disbelief, my mind racing. The speed at which it had been prepared indicated that Brad had anticipated this moment.

“Alex,” I called out, spotting him waiting in the hallway. “Can you take me to Rayne Group headquarters now?”

He nodded, a knowing smile on his face. “A car is already waiting for you.”

As we approached the Rayne Group lobby, I was struck by the grandeur of the space—marble floors gleamed under the bright lights, and glass walls reflected the bustling activity of the employees. As Alex guided me through the main entrance, conversations ceased, and heads turned in our direction.

I could feel the weight of dozens of stares—some curious, others envious, a few hostile, and many pitying. Most of the onlookers were humans who recognized me from my previous department but now saw me with my special access badge and the Alpha’s personal assistant at my side.

I caught snippets of their hushed gossip, their whispers swirling around me like a storm.

The elevator ride to the 36th floor—the executive level—was swift and silent. My heart raced as the doors opened, revealing a world I had never been allowed to enter before. The entire floor was designed with the unique needs of werewolves in mind—specific lighting, acoustic treatments, and subtle scent diffusers that apparently helped the Alpha and Beta werewolves concentrate.

A team of assistants glanced up from their desks, their expressions carefully neutral, as if they were trained to mask their thoughts.

“Mrs. Rayne,” one of them greeted, standing up respectfully.

“Please, in the office, I’d prefer to be called Elle or Ms. West,” I stated firmly, my voice steady.

The assistant nodded, though her eyes betrayed her surprise at my assertiveness.

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