Rejected By My Mate; Claimed By Lycan Quadruplets Chapter 336

Serena sat at her desk in the spacious, sunlit office of Rocky’s Design, her fingers lightly tracing the edge of a sleek pen.

The air in Rocky’s design that day was cool, the hum of productivity filling the background as employees moved about, focused on their work.

But Serena’s mind was elsewhere, replaying everything that had happened in the past few weeks—the betrayal, the scandal, the press conference.

She had spent sleepless nights going over every detail, the voice recording, every accusation, trying to piece things together.

At first, when she heard the audio of Steve Jacob allegedly plotting against her, she had been furious—devastated, even.

But now, after taking a step back and analyzing everything with a clear head, something wasn’t adding up.

A knock sounded at her door, pulling her from her thoughts.

“Come in,” she called, straightening in her seat.

The door pushed open, and Steve Jacob stepped inside.

He looked exhausted, his usual confident demeanor replaced with a tense, almost pleading expression.

“Serena,” he greeted quietly, shutting the door behind him.

She watched him carefully, noting the way he hesitated before stepping forward.

Steve had been by her side for years, guiding her, supporting her when no one else did.

The idea that he would suddenly turn against her never sat right with her, and now, after everything she had reviewed, she was almost certain he was being framed.

“Steve,” she said, gesturing for him to sit. “I was expecting you.”

He let out a breath, as if he had been holding it in for too long. “I had to come,” he admitted, taking the seat across from her.

“I know you heard the voice recording. I know what it sounded like. But Serena, you have to believe me—it wasn’t me. Someone twisted my words, manipulated that audio.”

Serena studied him, searching his face for any sign of deception. But there was none.

“I know,” she finally said.

Steve blinked in surprise. “You… you do?”

She nodded. “At first, I wasn’t sure. The recording was damning, and after everything that’s happened, I couldn’t think straight. But after sitting down and really analyzing everything, I realized something—” She leaned forward slightly.

“You are not someone who would try to ruin my reputation. Not after everything you’ve done for me over the years.”

Steve’s shoulders slumped, relief washing over his face. “Serena…”

“If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have my own company today,” she continued.

“I wouldn’t be where I am. You’ve always looked out for me, Steve. I should have known from the start that someone was trying to frame you.”

His hands clenched into fists. “I don’t know who did this, but I swear I’m going to find out. I can’t let them get away with this.”

Serena nodded, understanding the frustration in his voice. “Do you have any leads?”

He hesitated, rubbing his jaw. “Not much. I had my suspicions, but nothing solid. That’s why I hired a private investigator to look into it.”

“Good,” she said firmly. “Because whoever is behind this isn’t just after you—they’re after me too. And I won’t let them get away with it.”

Steve’s eyes darkened. “Neither will I.”

~

Steve walked out of Rocky’s Design, his mind heavy with thoughts.

The sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows across the parking lot as he approached his car. He gritted his teeth, frustration tightening his chest.

Everything about this situation reeked of a setup.

Sliding into the driver’s seat, he shut the door and exhaled sharply.

His hands clenched around the steering wheel as Serena’s words echoed in his mind.

“If someone wanted to frame you, they wouldn’t need you to say anything outright. They just needed enough words to manipulate.”

Steve’s fingers twitched before he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.

His investigator—Mark Dawson—had promised him updates, but so far, there had been nothing.

He quickly scrolled through his contacts and dialed the number.

It rang twice before Mark picked up.

“Steve,” the man greeted, his voice clipped. “I was just about to call you.”

Steve’s pulse quickened. “Tell me you have something.”

A pause. Then Mark sighed.

“It’s complicated. I’ve been digging into the woman you met that day—Venessa Carter—but there’s a problem.”

Steve’s grip on the phone tightened. “What kind of problem?”

“She doesn’t exist.”

Steve blinked. “What?”

“I mean, there’s no official record of a Venessa Carter matching her description. No birth certificate, no social security number, no trace of her in any database. If that’s her real name, she’s a ghost.”

A cold chill ran down Steve’s spine.

“That’s not possible,” he said slowly. “She gave me that name herself.”

Mark hummed. “Then she lied. Or, she’s using a stolen identity.”

Steve cursed under his breath. “And the number she gave me is disconnected. I tried calling it just now, but it’s like it never existed in the first place.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” Mark said.

“Whoever she is, she planned this well. She never intended for you to track her down.”

Steve ended the call and leaned back against the headrest, closing his eyes briefly. This was worse than he thought.

Not only had he been set up, but he had been played by someone who had covered their tracks perfectly.

He gripped the steering wheel, frustration tightening his chest. He had been so blind.

He thought back to that day at the hotel—the moment Venessa Carter had approached him with that warm, easy smile.

She had seemed harmless. Just another woman making conversation.

“I should have been more careful.”

He could still hear her voice, light and casual, as she suggested they grab coffee at a nearby café.

She had been so smooth, so natural, that he hadn’t thought twice about agreeing.

Now, as he pieced everything together, he realized how perfectly orchestrated it all had been.

Reaching for his phone, he recalled the investigator’s number. Mark picked up on the first ring.

“I need you to check something else,” Steve said, his voice clipped.

“That woman I met—she took me to a café. Hazelwood Café. Near my hotel. I need to know if they have security footage from that day.”

Mark was silent for a beat. “You think she covered her tracks there too?”

“Maybe,” Steve admitted. “But I need to be sure.”

Mark let out a breath. “Alright. I’ll see what I can find.”

Steve ended the call, his fingers tightening around the phone.

His mind replayed the conversation.

Venessa had been too interested in his relationship with Serena.

She had asked casual but pointed questions, leading him into discussing things he wouldn’t normally share with a stranger.

He had mentioned some concerns about Serena, minor frustrations he hadn’t even realized he was voicing out loud.

But now, those words had come back to haunt him—in a twisted recording meant to ruin him or perhaps— Serena.

And the worst part? He had no idea who she really was.

His jaw clenched as he scrolled through his phone, searching for the number she had given him that day.

He redialed for the uptenth time for the past few days since the recording got leaked. She was the only person who came to his mind.

As usual, the call didn’t go through.

Frowning, he tried again.

Still nothing.

A sinking feeling settled in his stomach.

He had been played.

Whoever Venessa Carter was, she had disappeared without a trace.

And now, he wasn’t even sure if that was her real name.

Steve exhaled sharply, gripping the wheel more tightly, like he could crutch it at any moment. His frustration burned hotter than before.

He wasn’t going to let this slide.

Whoever had set him up had made one mistake.

They thought he would just sit back and accept it.

They were wrong.

He turned the key in the ignition and drove off, his mind set on finding the truth—no matter what it took.

“I’ll find you, Venessa Carter!”