A Broken Alpha Heiress' Revenge novel Chapter 169

Chapter 169

Third–Person POV

-5 Rearts

Outside the Silverfang Den, the wind rolled low across the alley like a lurking beast, brushing past the neon signs and rattling loose beer bottles in the gutter. The buzz of the city dulled behind the door, but Carmen didn’t mind. Her eyes were fixed on the man sitting alone by the curb–Duke.

He looked like he had fallen from grace, albeit elegantly

His tie was half–loosened like a dying snake curled against his collarbone. He had taken off his gold–rimmed glasses and was leaning back slightly. letting the night air cool his flushed skin. His shirt was unbuttoned at the top, revealing sharp lines and a dancer’s strength that rose and fell subtly with every breath

Carmen’s gaze trailed to his throat.

That pale, graceful neck, marked faintly where his glasses had pressed earlier, was an invitation–a promise of vulnerability Her fingers twitched involuntarily. Something primal stirred within her, not unlike a wolf scenting prey in the dark woods. She didn’t even try to suppress the thought: That neck must feel divine under my fingers

It wasn’t desire. Not really. It was the thrill of domination.

She moved forward, slipping from the shadows like moonlight through fog. Her steps were light, calculated, the white shirt she wore clinging softly to her spine, outlining every sharp curve of her body. Her face, however, was innocence painted to perfection–wide eyes, bowed lips, and a voice like velvet snowfall.

“Sir.. your umbrella.”

She offered the sleek black umbrella forward with both hands, lowering her gaze like a well–trained Omega approaching a dominant Alpha.

Duke tilted his head upward, his vision still foggy with liquor. His cheeks were flushed, shadows clinging under his eyes. He looked up at her, blinking slowly, trying to focus.

Carmen’s smile deepened, subtle and indulgent.

His throat moved as he swallowed, the line of his Adam’s apple sliding beneath perfect skin. Her stare locked on it like a predator watching a heartbeat beneath fur.

Before she could stop herself, her hand lifted–drifting closer to his throat, as if drawn by invisible threads.

Just as her fingertips were about to graze his skin, Duke’s voice rumbled through the haze, hoarse and dazed.

“You who are you?”

So He’d forgotten her already.

Or was it the alcohol talking?

Carmen’s

‘s lips curved into a lazy, teasing smile. Her fingers twirled mid–air and instead of reaching for his neck, she redirected her hand–gently but firmly gripping his jaw. She tilted his chin up, studying his flushed face as if examining a rare, exotic beast

“You don’t remember me, sir?

Her voice was honey–laced mockery,

Duke’s mind was a maze of haze and bourbon He frowned, waving off her hand clumsily and attempting to stand. His polished shors scraped against the pavement as he stumbled forward, nearly crashing to the ground

Carmen’s reflexes were fast

She reached out and caught him around the waist, her palm sliding across hard muscle. Her brows lifted slightly–tight.

He crashed to the concrete with a heavy thud, the sound echoing off the alley walls. That fall seemed to shake some of the hare out of his brain. He groaned, propping himself up with one hand, trying to reorient himself.

From above, Carmen watched, the corners of her lips curled in amusement. But when Duke looked back at her eyes clearer now, pupils adjusting–her expression shifted instantly.

In its place bloomed a mask of worry, her posture folding down into concern as she crouched beside him.

“Sir, are you alright?” Her voice trembled slightly, as if she were genuinely distressed.

Her eyes lit up with staged delight. “So you do remember me!”

Duke’s frown deepened. “What are you doing here?”

Carmen’s lashes fluttered, and she glanced away shyly. Her tone dropped, soft as a whisper. “I… I wanted to return your umbrella.

She raised it slightly, as if that small gesture explained everything.

Duke’s eyes narrowed.

He wasn’t that drunk anymore. And he wasn’t an idiot.

After so many years serving beside Lucien Duskgrave, the Alpha Prince of the Stormridge Pack, he had learned to sniff out arabition behind sweet smiles, to hear lies laced in innocent tones. The number of women who had tried to get close to them through flattery or favors? Countless,

And now here she was. Another girl with a cute face and a story too clean to be real.

“You knew I’d be here tonight?” His voice, still gravelly from drink, took on a sharper edge. “How?”

Carmen’s eyes dropped. Her lashes cast shadows over her cheeks. Inside, her mind raced.

So he was sharper than she expected. This one wasn’t the type to be led around by the nose. Not so easily, anyway

Still, she had prepared for this.

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