Alpha's Regret: The Seventh Time was Forever

Santiago couldn’t take his eyes off her, not even for a second, like looking away might somehow break whatever hold she had over him, because the sight of her sitting there across the table, composed and radiant under the chandelier’s glow, was starting to get under his skin in a way he wasn’t used to.

Her dark hair spilled down her back in thick, smooth waves, like polished obsidian, and every time she moved even slightly, it drew his attention right back to her again, while her lips, soft, flushed, almost inviting without trying, kept pulling his focus, and making his thoughts blur at the edges.

It wasn’t just attraction anymore.

He wanted all of her, every inch, every reaction, every breath, and more than that, he wanted control over the choice before she could even think of refusing him again.

Across from him, Seraphine could feel it. That intensity, pressure, and she knew exactly what it meant.

This was her moment. "I haven’t had this much wine in a long time," she said, her tone light, almost playful, though her mind was already moving three steps ahead. "Can I use your washroom?"

Santiago didn’t hesitate, his smile returning as he gestured toward a door at the far end of the room. "Right there," he said, then added, his voice dropping just enough to carry a quiet edge, "but when you come back, you’re going to tell me about Corvine."

A pause followed, just long enough to tighten something in her chest.

"If you don’t marry me," he continued, as if he were discussing something trivial, "I’ll take his life."

Seraphine let out a laugh as she stood, smooth and effortless, but the sound lacked warmth, her eyes already cooling even as her lips curved.

"You really do crack expensive jokes," she said casually, turning away from him as though his words hadn’t landed exactly the way he intended.

But she knew better. He wasn’t joking.

As she walked toward the door, she could feel his gaze on her back, heavy, lingering, the kind that made her skin tighten under the open design of her dress, and she didn’t need to look back to know exactly what expression he was wearing.

The moment the door closed behind her, the atmosphere changed.

The washroom was overwhelming in its own way, every surface gleaming with gold, from the sink to the fixtures to the fine detailing etched into the mirrors, all of it reflecting light so brightly it almost felt unreal, like stepping into a space built purely to show off excess rather than serve any real purpose.

For a brief second, Seraphine just stood there, taking it in. Then she exhaled.

No time.

She reached into her clutch and pulled out her phone, her fingers moving quickly across the screen as she typed.

I’ve activated the software. Everything, including phone networks, will go down in exactly five minutes. We have one fifty minutes to get everyone out before the place blows up. Contact Leon. Tell him to send the ambulances I mentioned.

The reply came almost immediately.

What about the evidence?

Her expression didn’t change as she typed back.

Already moved.

She slipped the phone away just as quickly, turning on the faucet and letting the water run for a moment before flushing the toilet for effect, creating just enough noise to sell the illusion before heading back out.

When she returned, the table looked different.

The food was gone.

In its place sat more bottles, more glasses, more of that same polished excess.

Santiago was waiting. "Drink," he said, pouring her another glass without asking, his eyes fixed on her like he was studying something he had already decided belonged to him.

Seraphine accepted the glass, lifting it to her lips, but the moment the rim touched them, she flinched slightly.

"Ouch—" she let out, pulling back just enough to draw his attention.

Santiago’s brows pulled together. "What’s wrong?"

She pressed a hand lightly against her abdomen, her expression tightening just enough to look convincing. "Cramps," she said, her voice dipping with discomfort. "I need tampons."

His frown deepened, irritation flashing across his face at the inconvenience. "Now?"

"Corvine has them," she added quickly, like it was the most natural thing in the world. "Let me call him."

"No." The refusal came instantly, firm, leaving no room for argument. "I’ll get them for you."

One of his bodyguards stepped forward at that moment, leaning in close to whisper something into Santiago’s ear, and Seraphine didn’t miss the way his expression hardened, nor the low reply he gave that caused the color to drain from the guard’s face before the man hurried off.

But when Santiago looked back at her, the smile returned, smooth and controlled.

"My donner," he said, like nothing had happened, "I’ll get your tampons."

"I’ll just go back there," Seraphine replied, gesturing casually toward the washroom, her tone easy, unbothered.

He checked the time, his attention briefly pulled elsewhere, and around them, the guards had started moving with more urgency, quiet but noticeable, like something behind the scenes wasn’t going as planned.

Good.

That meant it was working.

Instead of heading back to the washroom, Seraphine veered slightly once she was out of his direct line of sight, slipping through another door exactly where she knew it would be, following the layout she had already memorized.

The corridor beyond was quieter, narrower, the polished luxury of the main hall giving way to something more functional, more concealed.

A guard approached her almost immediately, his steps slowing as his eyes swept over her.

She pressed her hand against her stomach again, her expression tightening just enough. "Cramps," she said, her voice strained. "I think I missed the washroom... where is it?"

He pointed behind her, his gaze lingering longer than necessary, a certain look in his eyes that made her skin crawl, but before he could say anything else, another guard rushed up to him, whispering urgently.

Whatever he said was enough.

Both men turned and hurried off without another glance.

Seraphine didn’t waste a second.

She slipped through the door they had just abandoned, moving quickly now, her heels echoing softly against the floor as she reached the entrance to the underground passage.

The stairs seemed to stretch forever, spiraling downward into dim lighting and thick air that grew heavier with every step she took.

By the time she reached the bottom, the smell hit her fully.

Stale, rotten, and suffocating.

It clung to the back of her throat and made her head spin for a second, but she forced herself to keep going, pushing past it as her eyes adjusted to the low light.

Figures lined the space, too still, too quiet. Her chest tightened, because they looked barely conscious.

Panic flickered through her as she stepped closer, her voice lowering urgently. "Can you hear me?"

One of the women jerked awake at the sound, her eyes wide with alarm before narrowing as she took in Seraphine’s appearance. "What are you doing here?" she whispered, her voice hoarse.

Seraphine crouched slightly, keeping her tone low. "Are they all asleep?"

The woman shook her head faintly. "No... we just act like it. It keeps them from... punishing us."

That was enough.

Seraphine moved quickly to the hidden exit, pulling a hairpin from her hair and working it into the lock with practiced precision, her fingers steady despite the pressure building around her.

Codes wouldn’t work anymore.

She had already made sure of that.

The lock gave way with a soft click. She pushed the door open just enough to reveal the dark passage beyond. "Go," she said quietly but firmly. "There are people out there. They’ll help you."

The woman didn’t move, her eyes filled with fear, her body tense. "They’ll kill us."

Seraphine’s jaw tightened, frustration and urgency rising together. "Listen to me—"

"Hey!"

The sharp voice cut through the space like a blade, Seraphine froze.

Heavy footsteps pounded down the stairs behind her, fast, closing the distance far too quickly, and as she turned, her pulse spiked, her mind already racing through what came next.

"What are you doing here?" the guard barked, his presence filling the narrow space as he descended toward her.