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Amara's heart thundered as Tavian's satisfied smile spread across his features.

He knows.

"It's come to my attention that Amara Quinn is Raxen's fated mate," Tavian announced to the room, his deep voice carrying the weight of revelation. "She isn't just the human mediator who was hired to help with the labor crisis. We have been played, gentlemen."

The conference room erupted into surprised murmurs and sharp looks. Amara felt exposed, vulnerable, as if Tavian had stripped away every professional defense she'd carefully constructed. Raxen's fist slammed against the conference table with enough force to rattle the water glasses, the sound echoing through the room like a gunshot.

"Enough." His voice carried the full weight of his Alpha authority, silencing every whisper. "Yes, Amara Quinn is my fated mate, and yes, I wanted to wait until this crisis was resolved before announcing it publicly. But she did not pay Pax to do anything, and she is not behind this conspiracy. Sori and Leon are, and they will be punished for their crimes against me and this territory."

Tavian's expression shifted to something resembling paternal disappointment. "Raxen, nephew, you're being blinded by the mate bond. You aren't thinking clearly. Amara is manipulating you."

"No, she is not." Raxen's voice dropped to a dangerous growl, his blue eyes blazing with barely contained fury. "I trust her. I value her expertise and her integrity. She's doing her job and trying to find the truth because that's the right thing to do—not because of any mate bond or personal agenda, but because she sees an innocent man being framed for something he didn't do."

He's defending me. In front of the most powerful people in his world, he's choosing me over his own family. He really does love me.

Tavian shook his head slowly, his disappointment appearing genuine. "Raxen, I really cannot believe how far you've fallen. First, you turned your back on your workers, and now you’ve turned your back on your family. What has gotten into you?"

Raxen's frame went rigid, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. "I never once turned my back on my pride or my family." His voice grew deadly quiet. "But maybe you did. Is there something you want to admit right now, Tavian?"

The challenge hung in the air, and for the first time, Tavian's composed mask slipped. Suddenly, the estate's alarm system blared to life, red lights flashing as a deafening siren filled the conference room. Everyone except Jalen jumped, chairs scraping against the floor as people instinctively prepared to flee.

"There's a breach," Jalen announced, his voice cutting through the chaos as he pressed a hand to his communication earpiece. "Multiple hostiles approaching the estate perimeter."

Raxen's protective instincts blazed to life, his gaze immediately finding Amara. "Go with Vessa. Get to the safe room. Now."

No. The thought crashed through her mind with desperate intensity. Not like his father. Not like twenty years ago.

"I can't lose you, Raxen," she said, the words tumbling out. The fear in her voice was raw, honest, and completely unprofessional.

Raxen didn't seem to care that everyone in the conference room was watching them, that his uncle and the four Alphas were witnessing this intimate moment between fated mates. He stepped closer and pulled her against his chest, his large hands framing her face as he kissed her with desperate intensity. The kiss was fierce, claiming, and absolutely devastating in its honesty. When he finally pulled back, his blue eyes burned with unwavering determination.

"You aren't going to lose me," he promised, his voice rough with emotion.

Then he was gone, striding from the conference room with the deadly grace of a predator heading into battle, leaving Amara surrounded by chaos and the lingering taste of his promise on her lips.

Amara watched Tavian's expression shift from diplomatic concern to something far more sinister—a cold satisfaction that made her blood freeze in her veins.

This is a setup.

The realization hit her with devastating clarity as Tavian moved from the conference table with unhurried grace, his movements deliberate and controlled. He wasn't panicking about the breach like everyone else. He wasn't surprised by the timing. He was pleased.

Just like twenty years ago.

The parallel struck her like lightning—Alpha Theron, lured into negotiations that ended with his assassination. Raxen, now charging headlong into what could be the exact same trap his father had walked into two decades earlier.

Tavian paused at the conference room doorway, his blue-grey eyes meeting hers with unmistakable triumph. "Such a shame when history repeats itself," he murmured, his voice carrying just enough volume for her to hear over the chaos of the alarm system. Then he was gone, disappearing into the corridor.

Vessa's hand closed around Amara's wrist with surprising strength, her diplomatic composure cracking as the estate's security lights bathed the conference room in pulsing red. "We have to get to the safe room now," she insisted, her voice tight with barely controlled fear.

"No." The word tore from Amara's throat with fierce determination. She yanked her arm free, her analytical mind already racing through the terrible mathematics of the situation. "They're going to assassinate Raxen, and I'm not losing him. Not when I just found him."

Vessa's blue eyes widened with dawning comprehension. "What do you mean?"

"Something's wrong with Tavian." Amara's professional instincts, honed by years of reading hidden motivations and buried agendas, screamed warnings she could no longer ignore. "This whole thing is a setup. The timing, the breach, his reaction—it's too convenient."

The words hung between them as understanding crashed over Vessa's features. Her diplomatic training had taught her to read between the lines, and suddenly the pattern was impossible to miss.

"History repeating itself," Vessa whispered, her face going pale. "Father was lured into negotiations before he was killed."