After One Night with the Alpha (Brad and Elle) novel Chapter 29

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

I awoke to an unusual warmth enveloping my skin, a lingering sensation that suggested I had been cradled by something—or someone—throughout the night. As the soft morning light seeped through the curtains, my eyes fluttered open, revealing the vast expanse of Brad’s enormous bed, now devoid of any company.

Had it all been a figment of my imagination? That comforting embrace, the gentle warmth of breath against my neck? I reached out to the vacant space beside me, still faintly warm to the touch. My heart raced in my chest. No, this was definitely not a dream.

“Holy shit,” I murmured to myself, my fingers tracing the slight indentation where his head must have rested. Brad Rayne, the man who had always been so adamant about boundaries—Mr. Don’t-Touch-My-Things—had actually spent the night beside me? The mere thought sent an electric thrill coursing through me. What else had transpired that I couldn’t quite recall?

Sitting up slowly, memories of the previous day flooded my mind like a chaotic puzzle, pieces that refused to align. The rigorous German language practice that had twisted my tongue into knots, dozing off in the garden pavilion, and then… a void of darkness. I must have been carried to bed, which meant Brad had touched me, held me close.

My stomach twisted in a knot of anxiety and excitement.

“Get it together, Elle,” I chastised myself softly, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed. “This doesn’t mean anything. You’re merely a vessel for his precious heir.”

After a brisk shower, I stood before the closet filled with clothes that still felt alien to me. Each piece screamed wealth in a way that made my skin crawl with the weight of imposter syndrome. I finally settled on a simple yet elegant outfit that Martha had deemed “appropriate for home training”—dark slacks paired with a cream silk blouse that felt luxuriously soft against my skin.

Today’s agenda was straightforward: practice, practice, and more practice. If I was to meet the German werewolf royalty without embarrassing myself or Brad, I needed to drill those phrases and protocols into my mind until they became second nature.

Two hours later, I felt mentally drained. I was wrestling with a particularly complex German greeting, botching it for what felt like the twentieth time, when Martha approached me, a phone in hand, her expression as composed as ever.

“Mrs. Rayne,” she began, still using the title that made me glance over my shoulder in search of someone else, “Alpha Rayne appears to have left an important document in his private office. He needs it for his meeting.”

My ears perked up at the mention of his private office, a space that felt tantalizingly off-limits. An excuse to escape the confines of this mansion? Yes, please!

“I can take it to him,” I suggested, perhaps a bit too eagerly. The desperation in my voice was embarrassing, but the thought of being cooped up in this mansion was slowly driving me to the brink of insanity. “I mean, if that would be helpful.”

Martha hesitated, and I could practically see the internal debate playing out on her otherwise serene face. “Alpha is at the company headquarters. The document is in his private office—the one connected to his bedroom suite.”

Brad’s private office. The words hung in the air like a forbidden fruit, a place I had never entered, never even glimpsed. My curiosity ignited like a match striking gasoline.

“I can find it,” I assured her, already rising from my seat, struggling to contain my excitement at the prospect of snooping. What exactly am I looking for?

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