Trapped in a Novel as the D-Class Alpha I Hated Most-Chapter 129: Cutey Are You Single....?

The car stops in front of Deniz’s building, and I’m out before the driver can fully park. My feet hit the pavement running, my heart already racing ahead of me.

Deniz. Deniz didn’t answer my calls.

I dial his number again as I push through the lobby doors.

The phone presses to my ear, ringing, ringing, ringing—

"The person you are calling is currently unavailable. Please try again later."

I lower the phone, staring at the dark screen.

Is he okay? Is he angry?

Did something happen?

The thought twists in my chest, sharp and cold. If Moon hadn’t shown up at my office, if he hadn’t trapped me in that warm, amber-scented room for hours, I wouldn’t be late. I wouldn’t be standing here, heart pounding, imagining every worst-case scenario.

The elevator lobby is empty. A small mercy. No crowd, no waiting, no polite smiles hiding impatience. I jab the call button once, twice, three times.

Come on. Come on.

The numbers above the doors mock me with their stillness. My foot taps against the marble, a nervous rhythm I can’t control. My whole body is wound tight, coiled like a spring about to snap.

Ding.

The doors slide open. I step inside, reach for the button for Deniz’s floor—

A figure slips in behind me at the last second.

Fast. Quiet.

A girl. Young. I barely glance at her, my eyes fixed on the changing numbers.

Floor 8. 9. 10.

Why is this elevator so slow?

My foot taps against the floor, a restless, unconscious rhythm.My hands clench and unclench at my sides.

"Excuse me, sir."

Her voice cuts through. I blink, turning to her.

Strong features, sharp cheekbones, no makeup on her skin. She looks... powerful. The kind of presence that fills space without trying.

An Alpha. I can feel it.

She’s looking at me with something like curiosity.

"Are you okay?" She asks.

I nod quickly, too quickly. "Yes. Fine."

I look back at the numbers. Floor 11. 12. Almost there.

Then a new thought hits me, cold and urgent.

The scent.

I showered. I scrubbed. But Moon’s amber wood—it clings. It seeps into skin, into hair, into places water can’t reach. Deniz noticed it before. Deniz hated it.

I touch my neck, turning my head, trying to catch my own scent. Impossible. You can’t smell yourself the way others do.

What if it’s still there?

What if I walk in and he smells it and his face falls and the evening is ruined before it starts?

The elevator slows. Floor 14. Almost there.

Think. Think.

The girl. The Alpha girl. She’s still beside me, waiting for her own floor.

I turn to her. The words tumble out before I can stop them.

"Excuse me, miss."

She looks at me, eyebrow raised.

I hesitate. My fingers twist together, nervous, embarrassed.

How do I ask this? How do I explain?

"I need your help," I finally say, the words rushed.

"If you don’t mind."

A small smile touches her lips. "How can I help?"

I look down at my fidgeting hands. Then up at her. Then away again.

"Can you..." I swallow.

"Can you smell my neck? And tell me... what I smell like?"

She freezes.

Just stares at me.

No blink. No movement. Nothing.

The elevator dings as the doors slide open.

My face burns. What am I doing? This is ridiculous. She’s going to think I’m crazy.

"If you don’t want to, it’s fine. I understand. It’s weird. I’m sorry."

I turn toward the open doors, desperate to escape my own humiliation.

Her hand closes around my wrist.

I flinch, looking back. Her eyes are different now—sharper, more focused.

"I can," she says quietly.

She steps closer. Closer still. Her face tilts toward my neck, her breath warm against my skin. She inhales, slow and deliberate.

I hold my breath. My heart pounds.

She pulls back. Her eyes meet mine.

"You smell sweet," she says softly.

"Like cherry blossoms."

Relief floods through me, so intense I almost sag against the elevator wall.

Cherry blossoms. My scent. Not him. Not Moon.

"Thank you," I breathe. "Thank you so much."

I can’t meet her eyes, my face still burning. I start to walk.

Her hand is still on my wrist.

"Cutey." Her voice is different now. Playful. Interested.

"Are you single?"

I blink, startled. My face must do something embarrassing because she smiles.

"No," I say quickly. "I’m—"

She releases my wrist, laughing. A warm, genuine sound.

"My bad. You’re not."

"You’re so beautiful, though. I had to ask."

She waves, a small, friendly gesture.

"Bye."

I nod, dumbfounded, and step out of the elevator. The doors slide shut behind me, cutting off her smile.

I stand there for a moment, processing.

An Alpha girl. In an elevator. Smelling my neck. Asking if I’m single.

This is the strangest day of my life.

The door looms in front of me—familiar wood, familiar numbers, the threshold to the only place that feels like home in this borrowed life.

My heart hammers against my ribs. I press a hand to my chest, trying to steady it, trying to calm the frantic beat.

He’s fine. He’s probably just busy. He’s probably—

I knock.

The sound echoes in the hallway. Too loud. Too final.

I wait.

Nothing. No footsteps. No voice calling out.

I knock again. Harder this time.

Still nothing.

My hand moves to the handle. It turns easily. Open. The door is open.

Why is the door unlocked?

Fear slides through my veins—cold, sudden, suffocating. I push the door open, stepping inside.

"Deniz?"

Darkness. The apartment is swallowed in it—no lights, no movement, no sound. Just the soft hum of the refrigerator and the distant whisper of traffic from below.

I step forward, my voice rising.

"Deniz? Are you—"

Light explodes around me.

I gasp, my eyes squeezing shut against the sudden assault of brightness. I blink rapidly, waiting for the world to come back into focus—

And I freeze.