Noah’s I barely slept that night.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the envelope sitting on my kitchen counter.
You can hide the child from Adrian.
The words wouldn’t leave my mind.
By morning, I had already checked on Ethan three times.
He was sleeping peacefully, his little arms wrapped around his stuffed fox.
I stood beside his bed for a moment, watching his chest rise and fall.
At least he was safe.
For now.
I quietly closed his bedroom door and went to the kitchen.
My heat cycle was approaching.
I had been ignoring the signs for days — the slight sensitivity to scents, the headaches, the strange warmth that came and went whenever my emotions ran too high.
It wasn’t unusual for an Omega’s cycle to grow irregular under stress, but with everything happening lately, I couldn’t afford to be caught unprepared.
I opened the small cabinet beside the refrigerator and took out my cycle-management supplements.
I always carried them with me — especially now, working in a building full of Alphas.
I checked the label and took the recommended dose with water, then reached for my scent-blocking patch.
I hesitated.
My hand moved automatically toward my neck.
The mark was still there beneath the skin.
Even after two years, I could never forget it.
I quickly covered it and changed into my work clothes.
By the time I reached Ashford Biotech, I had convinced myself I was fine.
I wasn’t.
The moment I stepped into the laboratory, I caught Adrian’s scent.
My entire body went still.
He wasn’t particularly close, but an Alpha of his rank was hard for an Omega to ignore completely.
I took a slow breath.
Scent blocker, I reminded myself.
I was fine.
Adrian looked up from his desk.
His silver-gray eyes found mine immediately.
“You look tired.” “I didn’t sleep well.” “Because of yesterday?” “Among other things.” He stood.
“Did you take your suppressants?” I froze.
“Excuse me?” His expression stayed completely professional.
“Your scent is slightly stronger than usual.” Heat rushed to my face.
“I used my blocker.” “I noticed.” That somehow made me even more embarrassed.
Adrian walked toward me, then stopped several feet away.
“You don’t have to be uncomfortable around me.” “I’m not.” He raised an eyebrow.
I sighed.
“Fine.
Maybe a little.” His expression softened.
“Your cycle?” I nodded reluctantly.
“It’s coming soon.” “Do you need time off?” “No.” “Don’t make decisions based on work.” “I need this job, Adrian.” “I know.” He looked at me seriously.
“But your health comes first.” I looked away.
“These supplements are enough.” He didn’t argue.
Instead, he picked up a file from his desk.
“There’s something you need to see.” I opened it.
My eyes widened.
It contained several university research documents — the same research I’d worked on before leaving.
“You found these?” “Last night.” “Why?” “Because whoever is threatening you seems to be looking for information connected to this research.” I slowly turned the pages.
There were notes, laboratory results, genetic compatibility charts, and several pages I remembered writing myself.
Then I saw something that made my hands go cold.
A section had been highlighted.
Omega-Alpha compatibility markers.
I stared at it.
That research had been conducted years ago — before Ethan was born, before I disappeared.
“Why would someone want this?” Adrian leaned against the desk.
“Because the research may have commercial value.” “Illegal commercial value?” “Possibly.” I looked at him.
“And you think I’m connected to it?” “No.” His answer was immediate.
“I think you may have seen something important without realizing it.” I looked down again.
A memory surfaced — a laboratory, a late evening, Adrian standing across the room explaining something about genetic markers.
And then — I touched my neck.
The mark beneath my collar suddenly felt hot.
I quickly dropped my hand.
Adrian noticed.
His eyes moved to my neck.
“Does it hurt?” “No.” “You touched it.” “It’s nothing.” He stared at me for a moment, then looked away.
“Alright.” I wasn’t sure he believed me.
Neither did I — because there were moments when I could still remember that night two years ago far too clearly.
The closeness.
The emotions.
The mark.
And everything that happened afterward.
I had spent two years telling myself it was over.
But standing across from Adrian again, I realized something terrifying.
Maybe it had never really ended.
Adrian walked toward the door.
“We have a meeting in twenty minutes.” I looked up.
“With who?” “Someone from the university.” My stomach dropped.
“Who?” He turned back.
“Professor Daniel Hale.” I froze.
That name belonged to the part of my past I had tried hardest to bury.
Adrian noticed my reaction.
“You know him?” I forced myself to breathe.
“Yes.” “How?” I closed the file.
“He was one of the researchers involved in my final project.” Adrian’s expression turned thoughtful.
“Then I think you should come with me.” I stared at him.
“Why?” “Because he specifically asked to speak with you.” My heart began pounding.
“Why would he?” Adrian’s eyes narrowed.
“I don’t know.” He opened the door.
“But we’re about to find out.” I followed Adrian out of the laboratory, but my thoughts were nowhere near the meeting.
Professor Daniel Hale.
I hadn’t heard that name in two years.
Back then, he had been one of the senior researchers at Ashford University, supervising several students on genetic compatibility research — including me.
He was also one of the last people to see me before I disappeared.
I didn’t know why he wanted to see me now.
And that frightened me.
“You’re quiet.” Adrian’s voice pulled me back.
“I’m thinking.” “About Professor Hale?” “Yes.” “What happened between you?” “Nothing.” Adrian gave me a sideways glance.
“You’ve said that word a lot lately.” I looked at him.
“What word?” “Nothing.” I almost smiled.
“You really do notice everything.” “It’s my job.” We reached the private conference room.
A man was already waiting inside.
The moment I saw him, my stomach tightened.
Professor Hale looked older than I remembered.
His once-dark hair was now streaked with gray, and his expression was far more serious than it had been when I was a student.
His eyes settled on me immediately.
For several seconds, he said nothing.
Then he stood.
“Noah Everhart.” Hearing my full name from him felt strangely unsettling.
“Professor.” Adrian walked into the room.
“Thank you for coming.” Hale nodded.
“I wouldn’t have come if the matter weren’t important.” His eyes returned to me.
“I didn’t expect to see you again.” I sat beside Adrian.
“Neither did I.” Hale took a folder from the table.
“I received information that someone has been accessing old university research.” Adrian’s expression hardened.
“Your information?” “Not exactly.” He opened the folder.
“Someone contacted me three weeks ago.” I frowned.
“Who?” “I don’t know.” “Then what did they want?” Hale hesitated.
“They asked about your research.” My heart sank.
“What research?” “Your final-year project.” I stared at him.
“I thought the university archived it.” “It did.” “Then why would anyone be interested now?” Hale looked at Adrian.
“Because your research wasn’t as insignificant as you were led to believe.” Silence filled the room.
Adrian leaned forward.
“Explain.” Hale slowly turned one of the documents toward us.
“Your research involved pheromone compatibility, genetic markers, and certain rare biological responses between different designations.” I glanced at Adrian.
He remained focused on the document.
“Your work identified a pattern that could potentially predict certain biological compatibilities.” I frowned.
“I never finished that section.” “Exactly.” Hale looked at me.
“Someone finished it for you.” My stomach dropped.
“What?” “The missing data from your project wasn’t destroyed.” He pointed to the folder.
“It was removed.” I stared at him.
“By whom?” “We don’t know.” Adrian’s expression turned colder.
“You’re telling me someone stole Noah’s research two years ago?” Hale nodded.
“And they’ve started looking for it again.” I couldn’t speak.
Memories began returning — the late nights in the laboratory, the unfinished calculations, the strange feeling that someone had been watching my work.
Then the day everything changed.
The day I stopped going to class.
The day I left the university.
I had always believed I simply walked away.
But maybe there had been something else.
Something I hadn’t understood.
Adrian noticed my expression.
“Noah?” “I’m fine.” Hale studied me.
“Are you sure?” I nodded.
Then he asked something that made my heart stop.
“Did anyone ever ask you for a copy of your research before you left?” I slowly looked at him.
“No.” Hale’s expression changed.
“Think carefully.” I searched my memories.
“No one asked me directly.” “But?” I hesitated.
“There was someone who wanted to see my notes.” “Who?” “I don’t remember his name.” Adrian immediately looked at me.
“What did he look like?” I closed my eyes.
A face appeared in my memory.
Tall.
Dark hair.
A university identification card.
He had approached me outside the laboratory several times.
I remembered feeling uncomfortable around him.
“I think he worked for one of the research departments.” Hale’s expression tensed.
“Was it Vincent?” I opened my eyes.
“Vincent?” “Vincent Cross.” Adrian’s expression changed.
“You know him?” Hale nodded slowly.
“He was a research assistant at the university.” “What happened to him?” I asked.
Hale looked at Adrian.
“He disappeared.” The room went silent.
“Disappeared?” “About two years ago.” My heartbeat quickened.
“When?” Hale gave me a look.
“Shortly after you left.” I felt cold.
Adrian noticed immediately.
“Do you remember anything else?” I shook my head.
“No.” Then another memory surfaced.
A hallway.
A folder in my hands.
A voice behind me.
You shouldn’t be working on this.
I had forgotten that until now.
I looked at Adrian.
“I remember something.” “What?” I swallowed.
“Someone warned me to stop working on the project.” Adrian’s expression hardened.
“Why didn’t you tell anyone?” “I thought it was a stupid threat.” Hale slowly closed his folder.
“It wasn’t.” Before anyone could speak, Adrian’s phone vibrated.
He glanced at the screen.
His expression changed immediately.
“What happened?” I asked.
He stood.
“Security found something.” “What?” He looked directly at me.
“Someone accessed the university archive again.” My stomach tightened.
“Who?” “We don’t know.” He paused.
“But they searched for one specific file.” Hale’s face went pale.
“Which file?” Adrian looked at him.
“Project E-17.” No one spoke.
Then Adrian’s phone vibrated again.
He read the new message.
His jaw tightened.
“What is it?” I asked.
He turned the screen toward me.
A single sentence appeared.
Tell Noah to remember what happened two years ago.
My blood ran cold.
Because whoever sent it knew exactly what they were doing.
They weren’t asking me to remember.
They were reminding me that they had never forgotten.
Project E-17, Vincent Cross, the missing research, and that final message… someone clearly knows what happened two years ago.
But the biggest question is: what exactly did Noah forget?
And Adrian is getting closer to the truth with every chapter.
Noah better be careful because that secret about Ethan is getting harder and harder to protect.
See you in Chapter 11!
— Ari1