A Rogue For The Quadruplet Alpha's.

Vanessa.

It was the first time in my entire life that the quadruplets had ever gathered together like that... not in unity, not in brotherhood...but against me.

The realization alone made my chest tighten painfully, like something fragile inside me was being crushed without mercy. Their eyes, their voices, their anger, it had all been directed at me, as though I was the enemy.

And all because of that bitch Patricia.

My fingers curled tightly against the fabric beneath me, nails digging in as I tried to steady the storm raging inside my chest. No... I couldn’t let it end like this. I wasn’t going to take the fall for everything. Not when I knew exactly how things worked around here.

If I went down, I needed someone else to go down with me.

A scapegoat.

Someone believable.

Someone no one would question.

And as fate would have it... Anabel had been right there in the room.

A faint, almost bitter smile crossed my lips at the thought. She had always been at odds with Maria—everyone knew that. It wasn’t a secret. If anything, it was the most obvious tension within the pack. Blaming her wouldn’t raise suspicion. It would fit perfectly, like a story everyone had already accepted without needing proof.

Yes...

It was the easiest way out.

Because right now, I could feel it, the shift in their attitude toward me, the coldness and the distance.

The rest of the quadruplets except Aidan, they hated me or at least, they were beginning to.

All because they believed I was carrying Aidan’s child.

A hollow laugh echoed softly in my mind.

If only they knew the truth.

If only they knew...there was no child.

My chest rose and fell unevenly as I shut my eyes tightly, trying to block out the present. Aidan’s arms were around me, carrying me back to my room, but I barely registered it.

Because my mind had already gone back to that day.

That moment.

The beginning of everything.

I had planned it carefully... every detail, every step. The illusion pill had worked exactly the way I needed it to. It didn’t matter that Aidan didn’t love me, I already knew that.

I had seen it clearly, because even in his illusion... it wasn’t me he saw.

It was Maria.

The thought alone made something sharp twist painfully in my chest, but I swallowed it down, forcing it away. Pride, jealousy, anger...I buried all of it. Because at that moment, none of it mattered.

All I needed... was something to hold on to, something that would tie him to me even if it was built on deception.

I could still remember the way he had pulled me close, his actions driven by something deeper, something darker. The way he had claimed my lips so fiercely, as though trying to erase something that wasn’t even there.

"Maria..." he had murmured, his voice low, almost amused. "...who would have thought after all your defiance, you would end up under me."

A tear slipped down my cheek as his words stung deep and trust me, it still was still as fresh as ever.

Even then...even in that moment...I wasn’t me to him.

"You would always be mine," he had continued, his words slipping between heated breaths. "Allow me to kiss out every inch of Noah on you... he doesn’t deserve you."

I clenched my fists slightly, my nails biting into my palms as I forced myself not to react, not to feel.

Because that was the truth, wasn’t it?

That was his darkest obsession, something he had always wanted and I... I had simply been the substitute at that moment.

A stand-in for the one he truly desired.

My chest tightened painfully, but I forced myself to push the thoughts away, to shut them out completely. There was no point dwelling on it now.

What was done... was done.

So instead, I had done the only thing I could, I let it happen and I allowed him.

I let him deepen the kiss, let him lose himself in something that was never truly real, while I stayed there, silent, holding onto the one thing that mattered...control.

As his hands lingered on me, trailing slowly before settling on my thigh, a strange shift happened, his touch paused.

Then suddenly, he pulled away.

The change was so abrupt that it left a hollow space where his warmth had just been.

"No... something is wrong," he said, his voice no longer clouded with desire but sharpened with suspicion. His eyes locked onto mine, searching, probing, as if trying to peel back something hidden beneath the surface. "Maria... is this really you?" he asked, his tone uncertain now.

My heart skipped.

For a split second, panic threatened to rise, but I quickly suppressed it. I nodded immediately, forcing a response before he could think deeper, before he could piece things together. The heat that had built up within me from everything that had been happening still lingered, making it harder to stay composed, but I couldn’t afford to lose control now.

"No..." he murmured again, this time shaking his head slightly. His gaze dropped, then lifted once more, more focused, more alert. "You’re not... your scent..." He took a step back, creating distance between us, his expression darkening with realization. "You aren’t Maria. But why am I seeing Maria?" he questioned, almost to himself.

That was it, and I knew then that he wasn’t going to continue.

He was pulling away.

And if he walked out like this, everything I had planned would fall apart instantly.

Without giving myself time to hesitate, I reached for the book resting at the corner of the bed. My fingers wrapped tightly around it, and before he could react...before he could fully turn away...I swung it.

The impact was solid, as he dropped, and collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

My breath came out unevenly as I stood there for a moment, staring at him, my heart pounding loudly in my ears. Then, quickly, I moved.

I dragged him onto the bed, adjusting his position carefully so it looked natural, as though nothing unusual had happened. Every movement was deliberate and calculated.

Then I climbed onto the bed beside him.

My hands trembled slightly, but I ignored it as I began removing my clothes, piece by piece, creating the illusion I needed. I made sure everything looked convincing....disordered, suggestive, believable.

But that wasn’t enough, because it had to be real...convincing beyond doubt.

I reached for something sharp and, without allowing myself to think too much about it, I cut into my skin. The sting was immediate, sharp, but I endured it, watching as blood welled up and began to stain the sheets.

Perfect.

The side effect of the drug would take care of the rest.

Memory loss.

He wouldn’t remember clearly. He wouldn’t be able to piece it all together.

Everything was falling into place.

Slowly, I lay back beside him, forcing my breathing to calm, arranging myself as though I had been there all along.

I heard the loud sound of the door, as it hit the wall, and I opened my eyes slowly, back to reality.

Aidan took a step further and then he placed me properly on the bed, his movements careful, almost distant.

I let out a soft breath, forcing a faint, fragile smile onto my lips as I looked at him.

"Thank you for saving our child, Aidan," I said gently.

The words hung in the air but he didn’t respond, not a single word.

It was more like he didn’t hear me, as he just simply turned away and walked out of the room.