Anderson Estate, Royal Grounds
The Anderson estate wasn't guarded—it was fortified.
Surrounded by high black marble walls, with security drones circling the perimeter and guards trained by ex-military alphas, it was less a home and more a kingdom.
Inside, beneath a chandelier made of real stardust crystal, Anderson stood at the head of the long dining table.
Sharp-suited. Deadly. Radiating authority.
The female dominant alpha didn't raise her voice. She didn't need to. Her presence alone could silence a room of armed men.
Across from her sat her omega wife—soft-featured and gentle-eyed, but with the quiet strength of someone who could bend an empire with a whisper.
Their sons sat between them.
James, tall, broad, the image of control. A dominant alpha born to lead, with his mother's fierce eyes and tactical mind.
And Noah—younger, softer in appearance… but even more dangerous in his own way.
A supreme omega.
Unmatched in rarity. Revered by tradition. Desired by power-hungry families across the world.
Noah twirled a spoon in his tea, quiet, thoughtful. But his gaze—sharp and calculating—betrayed his reputation as a passive, delicate creature.
He knew exactly who he was.
And what he could do.
Anderson's voice broke the silence.
"The Vincents will attend."
James scoffed. "Why? We don't need them."
Anderson raised a brow. "We don't need anyone. But alliances aren't always about need—they're about control."
Her wife sighed gently. "It's a birthday, love. Not a battlefield."
"It's both," Noah said softly.
All eyes turned to him.
He didn't look up. Just kept stirring his tea. Calm. Cool.
"The Vincent triplets are dangerous. But one of them… hides something."
James frowned. "Max?"
Noah shook his head.
"Sam."
The silence stretched.
Anderson leaned forward, eyes gleaming. "How do you know that?"
Noah finally looked up, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips.
"Because I'm the secret he's hiding."
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