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337 His Apartment
337 His Apartment
The living room felt untouched, clean–too clean. The couch cushions barely looked used, the air carried only faint traces of polish and his scent. My stomach tightened. A place this perfect… could it really have been waiting only for me? Or had others stood here too, wrapped in the same embrace?
Louis’s brows furrowed, and he shook his head slightly, as though he didn’t want to answer. But I wasn’t letting him off. I stepped closer, my hand pressing against his chest. “Who were they, Louis?”
I finally swung my legs out, the soles of my shoes crunching lightly against the gravel. Rising to my feet, I took in the place. It was quiet, private, hidden from the chaos and activities of the packhouse.
I felt him stiffen behind me, his arms loosening slightly. His silence was deafening. I turned in his embrace, looking up at him sharply. His calm eyes flickered–shock, guilt.
Louis nodded once, his calm gaze never leaving me. “Ours,” he said gently, correcting himself, as though to remind me that I wasn’t alone
anymore.
1
He cut the engine, the sudden silence filling the car like a blanket. Without a word, Louis stepped out, and before I could reach for the handle, he was already there, opening my door.
A big smile spread across my face, but my eyes never left the portrait. I felt Louis’s presence behind me as he wrapped his arms around me and rested his head against my neck. “This is my favorite picture of us,” he whispered behind my ear. My smile widened as my eyes lingered on the portrait, wishing desperately that time could rewind, that everything could be as simple again, His arms remained around me, warmth steady at my back, perfect, almost too perfect. Yet, even as I smiled, unease began to twist inside me.
Something about the way he said it–simple, calm–eased the tension coiled inside my chest. The door opened with a soft click, and he stepped aside, holding it for me. I hesitated only a second before moving forward.
In exactly three minutes, I pulled myself out of my room and teleported to a quiet corner near the coffee shop. The afternoon sun spilled golden light across the street, warming the stone paths, but my chest still felt cold and tight.
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337 His Apartment
I frowned. How many times had he stood here like this–holding someone else? How many had been brought into this space? The thought burned, souring the comfort in my chest. My smile faltered, and before I could stop myself, the words spilled out.
“Who?” I asked, my voice low but demanding.
“This is yours?” I asked softly, my voice still shaky.
His jaw tightened, but he reached across gently, his hand brushing against mine, comforting me. “You will be fine. I’m here.”
“How many women have you brought here, Louis?”
Louis turned his head, his calm brown eyes locking onto mine. The concern was etched into his features. He didn’t say anything at first, but the way his gaze studied me made words unnecessary. I slipped into the seat beside him, shutting the door softly but firmly, as if sealing myself away from the chaos I had left behind. The scent of him mixed with the lingering leather of the car, wrapping around me like a shield.
Hanging on the wall above the stairs was a large portrait, framed in dark oak. My breath caught in my throat as I took it in. It was us. The four of us. Lennox, Levi, Louis,
and I. 1
“No,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “I’m not okay.”
Louis slipped his keys from his pocket and walked ahead of me toward the entrance. His steps were steady, unhurried, like he wanted me to feel there was no rush, no pressure–only safety. He glanced back once, giving me a reassuring look.
After a few minutes, he turned into a quieter street, lined with neat trees and smaller buildings. The car slowed, then finally rolled to a stop in front of an apartment complex tucked away at the back of the block.
I swallowed hard, the jealousy biting deeper, but I wasn’t done. “And the other?”
The word hit harder than I expected, Jealousy coiling sharp in my chest. Even though I knew it was the past, it didn’t matter. The thought of anyone else standing here in this place, in our place, burned like acid.
Olivia’s POV
He hesitated longer this time, his gaze dropping to the floor. I caught the flicker of something in his eyes before he finally spoke.
337 His Apartment
The moment I stepped inside, I froze. The apartment was spacious but warm, the air carrying a faint blend of wood polish and Louis’s scent. The living room opened wide, with a soft gray couch set neatly against the wall, a glass table in front of it. Light spilled in through large windows, painting golden streaks across the wooden floor. My eyes moved instinctively, drawn upward to the staircase that curved toward the second floor. And then I saw it.
My wolf stirred uneasily, restless, like she had caught a scent I hadn’t. 3
For a breath, my heart settled. At one glance, the driver eased the knot in my chest. It was Louis. Even behind the glass, I knew it was him. His calm presence radiated like an anchor, steady and comforting, pulling me back from the storm raging inside me. I didn’t wait for him to come out of the car. Instead, my feet carried me forward before I could second–guess myself. The car slowed to a stop, and I walked straight to the passenger side, my hand trembling only slightly as I pulled the door open.
He sighed, heavy and reluctant. “One was a… sub I used to have. It was nothing, Olivia. Just… temporary.” 2
And still… he wasn’t Lennox nor Levi. That was what I loved about them. The triplets weren’t identical copies. They shared the same blood, the same bond, but each carried their own face, their own aura, their own pull. Loving them was like standing before three versions of perfection–three different storms, each capable of undoing me in their own way.
He looked away, jaw tight, before finally muttering, “Two.”
“Olivia…” he finally spoke, his voice low and concerned. “Tell me the truth–are you okay?” My lips parted, but no sound came out at first. My chest rose and fell, heavy, the fire inside me refusing to calm. I turned my head, meeting his gaze with a rawness l
couldn’t hide.
Then, the hum of an engine reached my ears. I looked up just as a car rolled steadily toward the shop, its dark paint glinting under the sun. My eyes dropped to the plate, and recognition struck instantly–the Alpha’s crest, bold and obvious.
“Tell me,” I pressed, my voice firmer now. “How many?”
I looked up at him, the golden afternoon light casting soft shadows across his face. Louis was devastatingly handsome. His jaw was strong but not harsh, balanced by the softness of his full lips. His deep brown eyes carried a calm steadiness that could
337 His Apartment
disarm anyone; they were the kind of eyes that seemed to listen even when no words were spoken. His hair was slightly tousled from the breeze, dark strands catching the sun in subtle glints. Broad shoulders filled his shirt effortlessly, his frame solid, reliable -like someone carved by the gods for both strength and gentleness.
I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly tight. The picture was from their sixteenth birthday. We were younger, smiling, caught in a moment before everything had turned complicated and messy. Before the fights. Before the pain.
The name hit me like a slap. My stomach twisted, my wolf snarling inside me, and for a moment, I thought the fire in my hands might spark again. 1
already asked my housekeeper to leave,” he said quietly as he slid the key into the lock. “So it’s just us.”
“Anita.” 4
I nodded and flashed him a weak smile. Louis smiled back at me, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes because he was worried about me. Then he started the car. The engine hummed softly as Louis pulled away from the coffee shop. I sat in silence, my gaze fixed out the window, watching the world blur past. Each turn of the wheels seemed to take me further from the suffocating weight I’d left behind. Louis didn’t speak again, and I was grateful for it. His silence wasn’t cold–it was comforting, patient, like he was giving me the space I didn’t even know I needed. Every so often, I could feel his eyes flicker toward me, checking, but never pushing.
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338 His BDSM Room
338 His BDSM Room
