A Rogue For The Quadruplet Alpha's.

Patricia.

A slow smile curved across my lips as I stepped out of Vanessa’s room.

It wasn’t soft. It didn’t carry warmth or comfort, didn’t linger with anything gentle or kind. It was sharp and calculated.

Laced with something darker that sat just beneath the surface, something that twisted quietly with satisfaction.

I didn’t bother to hide it.

There was no reason to.

Everything was finally falling into place.

The pieces that once felt scattered, uncertain, incomplete—they were aligning now, sliding into position with a precision that made something deep inside me settle.

The plan.

Our plan.

Just thinking about it sent a strange thrill through me, subtle but undeniable, curling low in my chest and spreading outward. My steps remained measured as I moved down the hallway, unhurried, controlled, but there was a quiet energy beneath them, something restrained, something waiting.

Anticipation.

Maria.

The name alone was enough.

My fingers curled slightly at my sides, the movement small, almost unnoticeable, but it carried weight. Emotion. Intent.

"Let’s see how long you last..." I murmured under my breath, my voice barely above a whisper, yet heavy with meaning.

My smile widened just a fraction.

Not enough to soften it.

Only enough to make it more dangerous.

I didn’t slow down. Didn’t hesitate.

Without wasting another second, I turned toward my room, my steps fluid, purposeful. The moment my fingers brushed against the handle, I pushed the door open and stepped inside, closing it quietly behind me with a soft click that echoed faintly in the silence.

My eyes swept across the space immediately— instinctive, quick and observant.

It was empty.

Darren wasn’t there.

Of course.

A flicker of irritation crossed my face, brief but sharp, pulling at the edges of my expression before I smoothed it away just as quickly. It wasn’t worth holding onto.

Not now.

Not when there were more important things at play.

I walked further into the room, my movements slower this time, more relaxed as I let myself drop onto the bed. The mattress dipped slightly beneath my weight as I leaned back, exhaling a slow, steady breath.

The quiet wrapped around me again.

It didn’t matter.

He would come around.

He always did.

That certainty sat firmly in my mind, unshaken, needing no further thought or attention. Darren’s absence was temporary, predictable, even.

And right now... he wasn’t the focus.

My thoughts drifted back effortlessly.

The plan.

Every detail.

Every step.

It replayed in my mind over and over again, like a perfectly crafted sequence, each piece fitting exactly where it was supposed to. There were no gaps. No uncertainties.

Only precision.

Only inevitability.

A soft chuckle slipped from my lips, quiet but filled with something unmistakable.

Something dark.

"This is going to be fun..." I murmured, the words lingering in the air as my eyes slowly closed for a brief moment, my smile still resting on my lips—unchanged, unwavering, and far from innocent.

The door opened.

I didn’t need to turn.

Didn’t need to confirm it.

I already knew.

Darren.

His presence slipped into the room before the sound of the door fully settled, heavy and unmistakable, filling the space in a way that made the air feel tighter... sharper.

"What’s going on with you, Patricia?" His voice followed almost immediately.

As it was laced with a clear irritation that didn’t even try to hide itself. It cut through the silence, direct and demanding.

What’s with his question?

Slowly, I lifted my gaze to him, my eyes met his but I didn’t answer.

Instead, I pushed myself up to my feet with a quiet calmness that contrasted everything in the room. No rush. No hesitation.

Then I started walking toward him.

One step.

Then another.

Measured. Controlled.

Each movement deliberate, as though I was taking my time to study him, to read every inch of his expression.

My eyes stayed locked on his face, watching closely, every flicker, every shift, every trace of impatience that tightened his jaw just slightly more with each passing second.

"Patricia, I’m talking to you..."

He didn’t get to finish.

By then, I had reached him.

Close enough.

Close enough to feel the faint warmth radiating from his body. Close enough to hear the steady rhythm of his breathing, to see the tension sitting just beneath his skin.

"Darren..." I said softly.

My voice dropped, barely above a whisper, almost gentle as I lifted my hand, reaching out toward him, slowly and carefully. As though the moment itself was fragile but before my fingers could settle...He shoved me.

Hard.

The force caught me completely off guard.

"Gosh...!"

The breath left me in a sharp gasp as I stumbled back a step, my balance faltering for just a second as I struggled to steady myself.

The space between us widened again.

"Don’t." His voice dropping lower this time, firm and unyielding. "Don’t do that."

I blinked.

Once.

Then again.

Staring at him, trying to process what had just happened, the sting of it settling in slower than the impact itself.

"What is wrong with you?" I asked, my tone tightening, the calm from before beginning to crack just slightly at the edges.

But Darren only shook his head, running a frustrated hand through his hair.

"What’s wrong with me?" he scoffed bitterly. "No, Patricia... what’s wrong is everything." His eyes darkened as they locked onto mine. "Stay away from me."

The words hit harder than the push.

My brows furrowed.

"What do you mean stay away from you?" I asked, my voice rising slightly.

But Darren didn’t hesitate.

"I already know the truth," he said flatly. "You’re not my mate."

The words landed like a slap. It was nothing new, so why was he acting like he just found out? Did he drink again?

I am sure he did!

"And Maria is." he added. "So whatever this is between us..." he gestured vaguely between us, his expression filled with disinterest now, "...it ends here."

My hands clenched at my sides.

"You’re joking, right?"

The words slipped out with a dry, humorless laugh, the kind that carried no amusement, only disbelief wrapped in something brittle.

"You must be joking."

I waited even for the smallest reaction. A smirk, a sigh, just anything but he didn’t smile.

Didn’t move.

Didn’t react at all.

His face remained unreadable, his expression cold, distant... like whatever I had just said hadn’t even reached him.

"Nothing should happen between us again," he added, his voice flat, stripped of emotion.

And just like that...Something inside me snapped.

"Nothing?" I repeated, the word cutting through the space between us, my voice sharpening instantly, anger bleeding into every syllable. "Nothing should happen between us again?"

The absurdity of it burned.

I stepped closer without thinking, the distance between us closing in a few quick strides, my eyes locking onto his with a fire I didn’t bother to hide.

"I am your woman, Darren!"

My voice rose, echoing slightly against the walls, filling the room with a force that refused to be ignored.

It wasn’t just anger.

It was something deeper.

Something raw.

"So whatever nonsense you’re saying right now—it doesn’t make sense!" I added, each word deliberate, heavy with disbelief and defiance.

But he didn’t flinch.

Didn’t even blink.

He just stood there, still, unmoved...like my anger, my voice, my presence... meant nothing.

And somehow, that made it worse.

So much worse.

"And for your information..." I continued, my tone shifting as my voice dropped, quieter now, but far more dangerous, each word laced with something darker, something steadier. "I’m pregnant."

The words hung in the air between us.

And that...it got his attention.

It was subtle. Almost imperceptible. A slight shift. A flicker in his eyes.

But I saw it.

I held onto it.

"I’m carrying your child," I went on, my gaze never leaving his, my voice firm, unyielding, refusing to break. "So whether you like it or not..."

I took a small step closer, closing whatever space remained between us, forcing the weight of my words onto him.

"...you will take responsibility."

Silence followed.

I waited.

For shock.

For anger.

For something—anything—that showed he understood the gravity of what I had just said.

But instead...He turned away.

Just like that.

No hesitation.

No reaction.

Like my words hadn’t carved through the air seconds ago. Like they meant nothing.

The movement was simple, almost casual, but it hit harder than anything he could have said.

And then...Without another word...He walked out.

The door shut behind him with a quiet finality that echoed louder than any slam.

I stood there.

Still.

Frozen.

The silence pressed in around me, heavy and suffocating, wrapping itself tightly around the space he had just left behind.

For a moment, I didn’t move, didn’t breathe, didn’t think. But slowly...My lips curved again, there was nothing soft about it. The smile that formed was darker and sharper.

More dangerous.

"Don’t worry, Darren..." I whispered into the empty room, my voice soft, almost gentle...but carrying a promise beneath it that was anything but.

My fingers lifted, tracing lightly over my stomach, the touch slow, deliberate, grounding.

My eyes narrowed slightly, the faintest glint of something calculating flickering within them.

"You will come to your senses very soon."

My smile deepened.

Twisting.

Settling into something far more sinister.

"Because this so-called Maria you think is your mate..." My voice dropped into a low murmur, quieter now, more controlled, "...is about to disappear any day now."