I could see the panic rising in her eyes and hear her heartbeat pounding like war drums.
"I swear, I—" she started saying again.
"Who sent you?" I cut her short; I didn't want to listen to more lies.
"No one sent me!" she cried. "I'm just—I'm the replacement actress. You said so yourself. I'm here to film scenes and—"
"Don't lie to me." My voice dropped lower. "I can hear your heartbeat. It's racing. You're terrified, which means you're lying."
Her eyes went wide. "How did you...?"
"Who sent you?" I asked again, ignoring her question. "And what was in this vial?"
"I don't know! I swear, I don't—"
I scoffed, knowing she wouldn't tell me. That much was clear.
"Fine," I said and walked back to the bar.
I picked up the glass she'd poured the contents of the vial into and turned to face her. "Since you claim this is nothing and that you don't know what that vial contained. You won't mind taking a drink."
"What?"
"Drink it." I held the glass out to her. "If it's safe, you have nothing to worry about."
"I—I can't—"
"Can't?" I raised an eyebrow. "Or won't?"
"I just—I don't drink whiskey. It's too strong for me—"
"One sip." I pressed the glass into her hand. "That's all. Just one sip to prove you're telling the truth."
Her hands shook, and the liquid sloshed against the sides of the glass.
"I can't."
"You can." I leaned against the bar, crossing my arms "Unless you're admitting you put something in it."
"No! I didn't—"
"Then drink it."
Tears gathered in her eyes. "Please, sir, don't make me—"
"Drink. Or I call the police right now and tell them you tried to poison me."
She stared at me, then at the glass.
Her hands were shaking so badly I thought she'd drop it.
Then, slowly, she raised it to her lips.
"Just a sip," she whispered. "Just one sip and you'll believe me?"
"Just one sip."
She closed her eyes, tipped the glass back and swallowed.
I watched her throat move, then watched her set the glass down with trembling hands.
Seconds passed after she took a sip, and nothing happened.
She straightened and looked up at me. "See? I told you. It's nothing. You were suspecting me for no reason and accusing me of something I didn't even do, and now you—"
She swayed slightly, gripping the edge of the bar as her eyes looked up at me, filled with confusion.
"Are you alright?" I asked.
"You've killed me…" she muttered before her legs buckled.
I moved fast and caught her before she hit the ground. Her head lolled against my chest; her eyes rolled back before they finally shut.
Moments later, I lay the unconscious woman on the bed, arranging the blanket around her tiny frame. Placing a finger on her wrist, I checked her vitals. Her pulse was shallow and her heartbeat had an irregular rhythm.
Her skin had gone so pale she was turning blue.
What the hell was in the vial? Whatever it is, it was affecting her faster than expected.
I pulled out my phone and tapped a number, ready to call Doctor Morgan, when suddenly the door of the suite swung open.
"Sir!" a breathless voice called out. It was my assistant, Mina. She was a Delta and had worked with me for three years.
I hired Mina because she's more professional than a lot of women. She is also efficient and is never flustered, but right now, she looked like she'd just run a marathon.
Her bun, which is always laid in place, was coming undone, and her face was flushed. Her eyes widened as she paused at the sight before her.
She glanced at the woman on the bed and then looked at me with a confused expression.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
She settled at the foot of the bed, glancing at the unconscious woman, then back at me before she spoke.
"Sir, I…there was a mix-up?"
I arched a brow. "A mix-up? What are you talking about?"
"The actress…the replacement actress, sir. She's been waiting in the lobby for the past three hours. She just called the front desk again, asking why no one has come to get her."
I slowly lowered the phone from my ear as my gaze darted from Mina to the woman on my bed.
"What are you talking about? The replacement actress is here," I said slowly. "She already acted the scenes perfectly."
She shook her head slightly. "I came by earlier to drop off the script revisions, and security told me the replacement actress had already arrived. That's why I didn't double-check. But I just confirmed. The real replacement is still downstairs."
"Then who is this woman?" I asked Mina, turning to look at the woman on the bed again.
Mina walked closer to the bed and leaned in to study the woman's face. Then, she pulled out her phone and tapped the screen a few times before turning it to show me.
"This is the replacement actress. Her name's Claire. She's a rookie actress at the agency. She's pretty good at acting, according to her agent, and also kind of a lookalike to Beverly, our lead actress."
I stared at the screen. The resemblance was uncanny, and she did look Similar to Beverly. Same height, same build and same hair colour
But she wasn't the woman on my bed.
"So…who the hell is this?" I muttered.
She'd acted those scenes so perfectly. The emotion, the delivery and the kiss were delivered as if she weren't a rookie.
Someone who performed like that didn't just stumble into an audition by accident.
Mina shifted uncomfortably. "Sir? What should I do about Claire? She's been waiting a long time."
The more I thought about it, the more confused I became. If the woman on the bed had tried to poison me, was she an assassin then? Was the acting all part of the plot?"
I frowned, shaking my head.
No assassin would have drunk their own poison. They would have put up a fight or had some backup plans. This woman had been so nervous.
She wasn't a professional killer, which left the real question unanswered.
Who the hell was she then?
And why had that voice in my head called her mate, or was it master?
The only way to get answers was to keep her alive.
"Send Claire home," I said. "Tell finance to pay her a consolatory fee. Double what we promised."
Mina nodded and started typing on her phone.
"Anything else?" she asked.
"Yes. Call Doctor Morgan and tell him to come here immediately. Don't explain why. Just tell him it's urgent."
"Yes, sir." She finished typing and looked up at me. "Anything else?"
"No. That's all."
She nodded and walked towards the door. When she reached the door, she paused and turned back.
"Sir?" Her voice was hesitant. "I noticed the woman on the bed is... not fully clothed. Did you perhaps—"
I turned and gave her a cold stare, and the rest of her words died on her tongue.
Her face went pale immediately as she bowed quickly.
"I apologise. That was inappropriate. I'll—I'll go make those calls now," she mumbled and practically ran out of the suite.
I let out a slow breath and turned back to the woman on the bed.
Her breathing was getting worse. Her lips had gone from pale to almost blue.
That voice that had whispered mate or master had gone silent, and nothing was stirring in my chest. There was no pull like the one I felt earlier.
Unlike other wolves, I couldn't communicate with mine. I didn't have the luxury of sharing my thoughts with my wolf. My wolf wasn't a partner; it was a monster.
So I had no way of knowing whether that voice had been real. Or just my imagination.
I sat on the edge of the bed and leaned down to brush some strands of hair from the woman's face. Despite the deathly pallor on her face, she still looked beautiful. My hands lingered against her cheek, and an inexplicable feeling tightened in my chest.
In situations like this, I'd be burning with fury and for the fact that someone had tried to poison me… but I didn't feel angry.
I felt worried instead, which made no sense.
I barely knew this woman. She'd tried to kill me. I should be calling the police, but here I was trying to save her life.
What the hell was wrong with me?
I pulled out my phone again and dialled a number. The line rang twice before a gruff voice answered.
"Yeah?"
"Andrew, there's a semi-dead woman in my suite at Club 69 who tried to poison me. What should I do?"