Fated To Not Just One, But Three-Chapter 126: Asleep

Chapter 126: Asleep

Olivia's POV

I wasn't just in Lennox's room because I was scared.

I had a reason—a task I had to complete.

A few minutes before I came here, I had spoken to Mr. Grim—Lolita's uncle. He told me he could help me…"

But first, he needed the full case file.

Everything.

He needed to see the evidence that was presented in court. The names of the people who said they saw my father stealing the jewelry. The witnesses who testified against him. The judge who gave him life imprisonment. Every detail that led to his sentence.

He said if he had all of that, he'd know how to follow up. Maybe find something wrong with how the case was handled. And prove my father's innocence.

It's been over four years. Four long years of silence. Of not knowing the full truth.

And now… maybe there's a way.

I've been a maid in this pack house for a long time. I've cleaned every corner of this place. I've seen more than they think.

I know Lennox has a safe in his room.

I've dusted it before. I've wiped the top, arranged the books that sit beside it. I know the small silver key he keeps hidden behind the third drawer on the left.

I believe my father's file is inside that safe.

It has to be.

That's why I came.

"Come on, lie on the bed," Lennox said softly, and I nodded again, moving towards the bed.

Still putting on my act of being scared, I lay on one side of the bed and covered myself with the blanket, making sure to turn my back to Lennox, who was also getting on the bed. I inhaled softly and closed my eyes, pretending I was asleep—but I wasn't. The plan was that once Lennox fell asleep, I would sneak out of bed and begin my task. So I just had to wait and listen to his heartbeat to know when he was truly out.

Yes, I could hear each of the triplets' heartbeats, when I paid detailed attention to it, and right now Lennox's heartbeat was racing.

I frowned slightly under the blanket, confused.

Why was he breathing so hard?

It was as if he had just finished running a race—or was in the middle of a panic attack. But he didn't move. He lay still beside me, silent.

Was he nervous?

Was it… me?

I didn't dare turn to look at him. I stayed perfectly still, pretending to sleep, listening carefully.

His heartbeat didn't slow for a long while.

I could feel the tension in the air. Even though we weren't touching, it was like his presence was too loud to ignore. My body was stiff, alert. But I didn't move.

I stayed perfectly still, pretending to sleep, but his heartbeat wasn't calming. If anything, it seemed to grow louder, more frantic. I could hear it—steady yet fast—like a drum echoing in my ears.

It was getting hard to ignore.

After a few moments, I sighed softly.

I couldn't help it—I spoke.

"You're not asleep, are you?" I asked quietly, still facing away from him.

There was a pause, then a soft sigh. "No."

"This might sound strange," I whispered without turning, "but I can hear your heartbeat."

There was silence.

"You are supposed to… You are my…" he paused… but I already knew what he was trying to say.

"It's… fast," I added. "Why is it so fast?"

I finally turned toward him, meeting his eyes in the dim light. "Are you okay?"

Lennox's gaze held mine for a long second before he replied in a low, rough voice. "It's the effect of you."

I blinked. "What?"

"My heartbeat," he said. "It races like this because of you. Whenever you're around."

My brows drew together in confusion. "That doesn't make any sense."

He just looked at me, not saying anything more. Like he didn't know how to explain it further. Or didn't want to.

I hated the effect it had on me, so I had to put on an act. My voice turned more firm, a little colder. "I'm someone's wife, Alpha Lennox. Your heart shouldn't race for me."

I didn't wait for his reaction.

I turned back around, slowly, pulling the blanket over my shoulder again.

And this time, I forced myself to go still.

But my own heart was no longer calm either.

Not after hearing that.

A few minutes passed.

Then, slowly… finally… his heartbeat began to slow. Gradually, it found a rhythm.

And I realized he was asleep.

I waited a little longer—just to be sure. I counted the seconds in my head. I needed to be careful. One wrong move, and everything I came here for could be ruined.

Quietly, I began to lift the blanket, preparing to slide out of bed. My fingers barely gripped the edge when—

A strong arm suddenly wrapped around my waist.

I froze.

Panic surged through me as my breath caught in my throat.

Was he awake?

No. No—his heartbeat. I focused on it again.

Still steady. Still slow.

Still asleep.

He shifted in his sleep, pulling me back into him, his grip tightening just enough to keep me close. My back pressed firmly against his chest, and I could feel the heat of his body seeping into mine. His breath fanned across the back of my neck—slow, heavy, and warm.

Then… I felt it.

His nose brushed against my skin, nuzzling lightly at my neck as he exhaled deeply, as though my scent soothed him in sleep. Another sigh left his lips, soft and content, before he stilled again.

He was really asleep.

But now I was trapped.

My heart pounded wildly in my chest, even as I told myself to stay calm.

This wasn't part of the plan.

I couldn't move, not without waking him.

So I lay there, tense and still, his arm heavy around me, his body warm and firm behind mine.

I hated how safe it felt, and I was forced to lie there with him.

His breathing stayed calm, steady against the back of my neck. But then—I felt movement again.

His hand shifted slowly, fingers brushing along the hem of my oversized shirt.

My breath caught.

Was he awake?

No.

His heartbeat—still slow. Still deep in sleep.

But his hand didn't stop.

It slipped under the fabric, rough fingertips grazing the skin of my waist. I clenched my jaw, unsure what to do, what to feel. My mind screamed at me to move, to pull away—but I didn't.

I couldn't.

His hand moved higher, dragging lightly up my side until—

It cupped my breast.

A soft gasp escaped my lips before I could stop it, but Lennox didn't react. Instead, he let out a sigh—low and heavy—like a man finally at peace. Then, barely audible, he murmured, "Mine…"

My eyes widened.

He didn't even know what he was doing.

He was still asleep.

His thumb brushed over my nipple, and a jolt of heat rushed through me so fast I had to bite down on my lip to keep from making a sound. My heart was no longer calm—it raced wildly, pounding against my ribcage.

What was happening to me?

I should've pulled away.

I should've stopped him.

But I didn't.

It wasn't supposed to feel this good. It wasn't supposed to make me forget why I was here.

My eyes fluttered closed, my body betraying me as a quiet warmth bloomed in my core. I hated how it made me feel—how my skin burned at his touch, how my breath came faster, shallower.

He was still asleep.

Still lost in whatever dream had him whispering possessively.

His fingers stopped moving eventually, but he didn't let go.

He simply curled around me, his hand still holding my breast like it belonged there. His breathing deepened… and then I heard a soft snore.

He was truly asleep now.

And I was still trapped in his arms, my heart pounding, my body aching with confusion.

This wasn't part of the plan.