Betrayed by My Mate 6

Posted by Admink, ? Views, Released on July 11, 2025

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Chapter 6

A flicker of frustration passed across Damon’s face.

I clutched the blanket around me, eyes wide with mock concern. “You’d better go. If Ulric’s calling, it must be something serious.”

Damon pulled his shirt back on, leaned over, and pressed a kiss to my cheek. “Wait for me,” he said, then slipped out the door.

The moment it shut behind him, I let out a long, shaky breath.

Just then, a notification popped up on my phone–shipping confirmation. The things I ordered earlier that day were now on their way under discreet delivery.

I quickly deleted the transaction history and tracking link. Just as I was about to power down, a new friend request popped up.

[This is Alaric.]

Short. Direct. Just like him.

I approved the request immediately and texted back: [Hi, Alaric]

I waited a bit, but there was no reply.

Eventually, I dozed off.

The next morning, a housekeeper informed me that Damon had been summoned back to the family estate late last night. Something had gone terribly wrong with a major project he was overseeing.

I masked the satisfaction curling at the corners of my mouth and headed downstairs.

At the dining table’s head sat Alaric.

In front of him: a perfectly toasted slice of sourdough, a fresh–ground black coffee, and a neatly folded copy of The Rosden Daily Financial.

I greeted him like it was second nature and slid into the seat to his left.

He lowered the paper, his eyes cutting to me with that quiet, sharp intensity. His gaze paused–just for a beat–on my lips. Plump. Cherry–red. Still slightly swollen.

He took a slow sip of coffee, Adam’s apple bobbing. Then, as if the question had just casually occurred to him, he asked:

“You’re off for the holidays. Got any plans today?”

I twirled a strand of hair around my finger and smiled sweetly. “Girls‘ day out. Shopping, maybe brunch.”

“I’ll take you.”

I blinked, caught off guard. “Oh no, you don’t have to. You’re swamped. Really, the driver-”

“I said I’ll take you.”

That was it. No room for negotiation.

Once we were in the car, the driver–bless his soul–had the good sense to raise the privacy partition.

Alaric sat with his laptop balanced on one knee, his long, precise fingers dancing across the keyboard. Even while working, he still found the time to toss a casual question my way without so much as glancing up:

“How long have you been seeing Damon?”

The question caught me off guard. I hesitated, then answered, “About… a year.”

Something about talking to Alaric always made me nervous. Maybe it was his presence, or maybe it was the way his fingers moved–graceful, strong, and utterly distracting.