Page 91 of Sweet Torment

On top are some notes in her handwriting. Passwords, maybe. Or account numbers. There’s a USB drive, a small stack of photos, a few pieces of jewelry, and—photos first. I flip through them. There are a few of Whitney during her childhood, moments she captured with her father where she looks happy... more like the girl I was friends with.

There’s a photo of a beautiful woman who looks familiar, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen her before. The back says Isabelle Clyne. The name doesn’t ring any bells. Then it clicks. She looks exactly like Whitney—same hair and eyes, same nose. This must be her mother. Whitney rarely brought her mom up.

My fingers itch to begin researching. It might be useful to know what happened to Whitney’s mom and what her relationship with Dr. Montgomery was like. Maybe there’s a pattern here I’m missing.

The real question is whether to involve the alphas. Tristan would definitely be helpful and make things a lot easier, but part of me wants to do this myself. If I tell them, they’ll try to control it to keep the precious little omega away from danger, which would really piss me off.

There’s a knock on the door, and I jump, quickly stuffing everything back into the book before I’ve looked at it all.

“Bianca?” Winston’s voice comes through the door. “You okay in there?”

I tuck the book back in the backpack. “Yeah, just grabbing some stuff. Come in.”

He opens the door and steps inside, his eyes sweeping over my childhood room. “Weird being back here, huh?”

“Like stepping into a time machine.” I stand and move to my dresser, opening drawers and pulling out a few things to take back to the mansion. Not much, but having my own things will bring some comfort, I think.

Winston sits on the edge of my bed, watching me. “So... the guys. How are they really?”

I pause, a t-shirt in my hands. “They’ve been through a lot. Whitney wasn’t... kind.”

“If anyone can bring them back from the dark, it’s you.”

I snort. “No pressure or anything.”

“There’s something I need to tell you,” he says suddenly. “I know it’s not the best time, but...”

My stomach drops. “What is it?” I can’t take any more bad news.

“Clara’s pregnant.”

“Win, that’s... Oh my god.” Relief and joy flood through me. I throw my arms around him, hugging him tight. “I’m going to be an aunt.”

“The most badass aunt ever,” he confirms, squeezing me back.

“Tell Clara I’m so happy for all of you. She’s going to be the best mom.”

He coughs and stares at me expectantly. “You are going to be a ridiculously awesome dad. Your packmates, too.” His smile lights up. “Clara’s already doing all the things. You know how she is. There are paint samples everywhere for the nursery, lists upon lists...” He laughs, shaking his head. “Maybe once we get this figured out, you two could spend some time together. She’s always loved you. And you need to get to know the pack. They’re nerds, so you’ll have that in common.”

I laugh and punch him in the arm.

I can’t help but get a little teary-eyed at the thought of my brother being a dad. Dammit.

But in the back of my mind, dread builds over the pregnancy test I’ll have to take at my appointment, even though it’s unlikely to be positive. This world is too cruel and ugly for something as innocent as a baby.

Winston helps me gather a few more things from my room before we say goodbye.

27

WELLER

My father’s deep laugh grates against my nerves as he wins another hand, sweeping chips toward his growing pile. I shift in my chair, feeling the weight of Bianca’s absence. The air in this room is thick with cigar smoke and the perfume of the omegas our fathers hired for the evening. I don’t care about anything that’s not her.

“Another round?” My father offers cigars to us again, his eyes lingering on me with annoyance when I shake my head. “Still too good for a proper smoke, I see.”

“Some of us care about our lung capacity,” Tristan drawls beside me.

Alexander scoffs at his son.