CHAPTER 73: SHE WON’T DARE

Keith’s POV

The blue glow of my laptop screen cast sterile light across my desk, a stark contrast to the darkness still clinging to the windows. On the screen, a team of my top engineers were dissecting a quarterly projection report, their voices a dry, technical drone.

"...and as you can see from the integrated data stream, the variance in the third sector..."

I stared at the graphs, but the lines and numbers blurred into meaningless shapes. My focus was fractured, pulled inward to the problem festering in my own home. Two women. One bond. An impossibility.

The meeting droned on. They assumed I was considering their discussion, while in reality, I was sifting through the dead ends of the last twenty-four hours.

We had dug. We had consulted ancient texts, from books and other knowledgeable supernatural creatures .

The answer was always the same: The Moon Goddess does not make mistakes. A

fated bond is singular, unique, unbreakable. Two fated mates for one triplet set is impossible

So, where did that leave us? With a liar under our roof. The cold, realist part of my mind knew this was the only logical conclusion. One of them was a fraud.

The evidence, or lack thereof, pointed squarely at Eleanor. Her sudden appearance, her bizarre history, her convenient ignorance. It reeked of a scheme.

And yet...

Kayden’s adamant, silent certainty was a variable I couldn’t dismiss.

Even Kieran was now seriously considering the possibility because of the proof—the undeniable reaction we’d all had to her at the Sins and Cinnamon club.

The memory was a ghost in the room, the sight of her, flushed and wide-eyed under the strobe lights, surrounded by a lustful crowd. The three masked men on that stage, driven to a primal, possessive arousal none of us could explain... they were us.

What if she had planned that, too? Did Eleanor know that the three masked male strippers, the ones whose control she so effortlessly shattered, were the same CEOs she works for? The coincidence was too perfect. It was a masterstroke of deception, playing on raw, physical instinct rather than logical argument.

For a man who prided himself on being sure of everything, this uncertainty was a form of torture. I was adrift in a sea of contradiction.

"That’s all for today," I said to the faces on my laptop, my voice betraying none of the internal chaos. "Round up your findings. I want a consolidated report in the next 4 days." I didn’t wait for their replies, closing the lid with a definitive snap.

Leaning back in my chair, I stared at the ceiling. Eleanor should be back by now.

Logically, she was the entire opposite of the kind of mate we deserved. We didn’t fall for women who showed off their vulnerabilities; we knew that was a calculated lure, a trap to ensnare men by feigning innocence.

Scarlet was the exact person we needed—strong, established, our equal in status and power.

But how come I was so resistant to Scarlet’s touch? How did her carefully manicured hand on my arm feel like a brand, searing me with the memory of filth and chains from a past we had burned to the ground? Her touch, her very aura, was a key that unlocked the cage of our history, a cage we had destroyed to escape.

But Eleanor’s touch... when my fingers had brushed against her heated skin on that stage, I hadn’t felt repulsed. I had felt... alive. The physical contact was a spark, not a scar.

This biological evidence should be the proof. It should mean Eleanor is our mate, and Scarlet is the fake.

But that conclusion created another, more dangerous problem. Scarlet has no discernible motive.

She had wealth, power, and status long before she met us. Eleanor has none of that.

What if Eleanor did something? What if she used some form of enchantment we have yet to uncover, that not only mimics a bond but actively makes us repulsed by Scarlet’s genuine touch? That would explain everything. And it makes her far more dangerous than I had initially presumed.

The door to the office opened and Kieran walked in. His energy was dimmed by frustration.

"Any progress?" I asked, though I could already guess the answer.

He shook his head. "It’s the same conclusion from everyone we ask. We can’t have two fated mates. The only way that could happen is if one is our fated mate and the other is a chosen mate later on." He dropped into the chair across from me. "But there is another way we can prove which one is real."

"I know what you’re going to say," I cut him off. "And no. We are not going to... get physical with both of them to test it."

Kieran leaned forward, his expression serious. "We don’t even have to. Keith, think about it. All our previous physical contact with Eleanor proves she is our mate. Our skin touched hers and it felt right. It felt good. We shouldn’t be dragging this out. Our own bodies are telling us the truth."

"Then what about Scarlet?" I asked, my voice hard. "Can you give me one good reason why she would lie to us?"

Kieran was quiet for a moment, then he sighed. "I don’t know."

That was the problem. I didn’t know either. And until I had an answer for that, I couldn’t trust the spark I felt with Eleanor. It could just be a very clever trap.

Before I could say more, Kieran’s phone rang. He pulled it out and his eyebrows went up. "It’s Damon."

He put the phone on speaker and placed it on the desk between us.

"what’s up dude?"

"You’re on speaker Damon."

"Hey," I said, my tone flat. "Don’t you have a club full of strippers to keep you busy? Or has none of them caught your eye?"

Damon’s warm laugh came through the speaker. "They can’t compare to you three at all. There’s always a space for you here if you change your minds."

"You know we’re never doing that again," I said firmly.

"Hey, Keith doesn’t speak for all of us," Kieran cut in with a grin.

Damon chuckled. "I actually called because I just saw someone you would be very interested in knowing that she is here."

"Who?" I asked, a knot already forming in my stomach.

"Do you remember that woman you three danced on? The one who caused all the... excitement?"

Kieran’s playful expression vanished. "Wait. Are you saying Eleanor is at the club? Right now?"

"Yeah," Damon confirmed. "And since I know about the... situation you have going on, I figured I should let you know."

Annoyance flared hot inside me. What was she doing there? A woman who supposedly has three fated mates, spending her night in a place like that. What game was she playing now?

Kieran looked equally tense, his jaw tight with something that looked a lot like jealousy. "Damon, make sure no one goes near her. We’ll be right there."

"Consider it done," Damon said.

Kieran ended the call and looked at me, his eyes blazing. "Let’s go."

I didn’t argue. I followed Kieran out of the office, my own anger simmering. We had barely stepped into the hallway when Scarlet appeared, her face a mask of pretty concern.

"I was just coming to find you—" she began.

"Later," I cut her off, not breaking stride. "We have somewhere to be."

I saw the flash of hurt in her eyes before she quickly hid it behind a understanding smile. "Of course. No problem. I’ll be here when you get back."

We moved past her without another word. As we stepped outside, the roar of an engine greeted us. One of our cars was already moving. Kayden was behind the wheel. Wait, Kayden is driving??

We reached the car and slid in—Kieran in the passenger seat, me in the back. The car accelerated before the doors were even fully closed.

"Damon told you?" I asked, my voice tight.

Kayden met my eyes in the rearview mirror and gave a single, sharp nod. His knuckles were white on the steering wheel, his silent fury a palpable force in the confined space.

The thought of Eleanor at that club, of another man’s eyes on her, let alone his hands, sent a fresh wave of fury through me. It didn’t matter if she was a fake or not. Until we decided otherwise, she was ours. And no one touched what belonged to us.