LACED WITH SECRETS

  A COBBLERS’ CORNER COZY MYSTERY ROMANCE

  MM OMEGAVERSE AGE GAP MPREG

  BOOK FOUR

  CB WREN

  Laced With Secrets

  A Cobblers’ Corner Cozy Mystery (Book 4)

  by

  CB Wren

  Copyright © 2025 by CB Wren

  Published by CB Wren

  Cover Illustration: A Little Birdie

  Cover Design: A Little Birdie

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of quotations in a book review. This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved.

  For more information:

  cb@cbwren.com

  cbwren.com

  CONTENTS

  Laced With Secrets

  Join my newsletter

  A Note to Readers

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  I hope you enjoyed this series!

  Afterword

  A Note From the Author

  About CB Wren

  Books By CB Wren

  LACED WITH SECRETS

  BOOK FOUR

  The skeleton wasn't just any murder victim—those distinctive silver buckles were crafted by my own grandfather. Now I’m involved in a fifty-year-old mystery that hits closer to home than I'd ever imagined.

  My secret weighs heavier with each passing day, especially when I discover the victim was hiding the same secret when they died. Someone killed to bury the truth, and I’m determined to give them the justice they deserve.

  But investigating a decades-old murder while hiding my condition from everyone—including my alpha—proves nearly impossible. Especially when our much anticipated centennial celebration becomes the perfect stage for a killer hellbent on keeping their secret buried.

  Perfect for readers who love:

  • Historical mysteries with personal stakes

  • Protective, morally gray alphas with possessive streaks a mile wide

  • Community celebrations that turn deadly

  • 1970s-themed dance parties

  • Steamy reconciliations in ruined nests

  • Baby bumps

  Laced With Secrets is Book 4 of my Cobblers’ Corner Cozy Mystery series. Some secrets are worth killing for—but love is worth dying to protect.

  Single POV (omega) ~67K words

  Note: This is the final installment of the series. This book promises the conclusion of the overarching mystery that has been building in every book, a satisfying HEA, and mpreg.

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  A NOTE TO READERS

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you so much for diving into Laced With Secrets, Book 4 of my Cobblers’ Corner Cozy Mystery series! Book 4 got a bit of a delayed release. The story changed quite a bit from what I’d originally envisioned. I’d planned for this series to be six short novellas, but Book 4 is a whole novel (coming in at ~67K words)!

  I can’t believe we’ve already reached the end of this series! From the beginning, I had the killer in mind and the “big moment” scene in my head (you’ll know it when you get to it), but getting there has been quite the adventure!

  If you enjoyed this series, I hope you stick around for the next one! With Millcrest Millionaires, I will be moving away from the cozy mystery serial format. Instead, each book will be a full-length standalone title. Book 1, Trillium, is Penny’s story and will be a gothic romance with an eerie mystery and two unhinged alphas. Book 2 will be Jake’s story and will be semi-dark (is that a thing?) mafia romance with mob meetings interrupted by squabbles over proper cannoli filling and an alpha who learns revenge is a dish best served sweet. You’ll also get Blake’s story and at least one more book in the series (Who should it be? Marcus?).

  I’m truly excited to share this final installment of Leo and Dominic’s story with you. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

  With heartfelt thanks,

  CB Wren

  CHAPTER ONE

  Morning sickness hit me like a freight train the moment I opened my eyes, sending me stumbling toward Blake’s guest bathroom with my hand clamped over my mouth. I barely made it to the toilet before my stomach emptied itself violently, the sound echoing off the marble tiles.

  Please don’t let anyone hear that.

  I gripped the cool porcelain rim, my knuckles white as another wave of nausea rolled through me. Eight weeks pregnant, and my body seemed determined to punish me for banning my alpha from my nest. Through the bond, I felt Dominic’s immediate concern spike from wherever he’d spent the night—probably still on Blake’s couch, the stubborn bastard.

  Five days of this ridiculous standoff. I’d suggested Dominic take the guestroom while I bunked with Penny and Jake in Blake’s other guestroom, but he’d planted himself on that damned couch like he was guarding the front lines.

  “I’m perfectly content right here, thank you,” he’d said, flashing me a crooked grin that showed off his fangs. My pulse quickened despite my irritation—he knew exactly what that smile did to me, damn him.

  Meanwhile, Blake had taken to making pointed comments about his hospitality being “indefinitely available” while Penny and Jake watched our mutual stubbornness with expressions somewhere between worry and amusement.

  I flushed and moved to the sink, splashing cold water on my face and then rinsing my mouth with Blake’s expensive mouthwash.

  Once the churning in my stomach finally subsided, I dragged myself into the shower, hot water cascading down my body. I tugged on my most forgiving sweats and wrapped myself in an oversized sweater that hung off one shoulder.

  The loose sweater I’d chosen was more about comfort than concealment—my body hadn’t changed visibly yet, but everything felt different and the soft fabric was a small comfort against my clammy skin. My hand drifted unconsciously to my still-flat abdomen.

  God, I wanted to tell him.

  I could picture his face when I finally shared the secret—the shock giving way to wonder, those steel-gray eyes softening as he processed what I was saying. The way his hands would probably shake when he first touched my stomach.

  I’d rehearsed the words in my head countless times, my heart racing with each imagined conversation.

  But then I remembered the cold calculation in his voice when he’d told me about the plan. Three hundred people’s jobs was only a small part of it. Those jobs were just collateral damage in Dominic and Blake’s larger scheme—to acquire the entire Historical District, gut the shops while preserving the facades, and turn our community into some sanitized tourist attraction.

  And I’d been the key to it all, hadn’t I? The naive omega who could be seduced and manipulated into convincing his neighbors to sell.

  The plan had been elegant in its cruelty. Approach an a local omega, seduce him, make him fall in love, then use that influence to smooth the way for acquisition.

  I’d been so stupidly flattered that someone like Dominic would be interested in someone like me.

  When had it changed for him? When had manipulation become genuine feeling? Before he took my virginity? It had to be before the mating, right?

  He couldn’t have bonded with me if his feelings weren’t real. Could he?

  The uncertainty ate at me like acid. How could I tell him about the baby when I still didn’t know if I’d been just a mark when we’d created it? How could I raise a child with someone whose love might have started as a calculated business strategy?

  The knock came as I was putting on a pair of fluffy wool socks.

  “Leo?” Dominic’s voice was soft, careful. “Are you all right?”

  The concern in his voice made my chest ache. Even fighting, even sleeping apart, he was still taking care of me in the ways he could. He’d taken to hovering just close enough to be there when I needed him, but gone before I could push him away.

  “I’m fine,” I called through the door, my voice hoarse. “Just str
essed. You know how my stomach gets.”

  “I’ll make you some ginger tea. That helps, right?”

  He remembered. Of course he remembered—alphas were programmed to notice and remember everything that might help their omega’s health. Even when that omega was punishing him for a misaligned moral compass.

  I pulled the door open, revealing Dominic’s tall frame filling the hallway. His dark hair was still mussed from sleep. The sleeves of his gray Henley bunched around his elbows, exposing the defined muscles of his forearms. He stood motionless, shoulders relaxed, steel-gray eyes meeting mine with quiet patience.

  “That would be nice,” I managed. “Thank you.”

  The kitchen smelled like fresh coffee and the promised ginger tea. Dominic stood in front of Blake’s elaborate espresso machine, a steaming porcelain mug in one hand. As I watched, he reached for the small amber bottle beside the coffee maker—his anti-seizure medication—and dry-swallowed a pill with practiced efficiency.

  He didn’t make a show of it, didn’t look at me for acknowledgment. Just took his medication like he’d promised he would, proving without words that he was keeping at least one promise he’d made me.

  The gesture sent unexpected warmth through my chest.

  “Sleep well?” I asked softly, settling onto a breakfast stool with careful movements.

  His mouth twitched. “About as good as a lumpy sofa will allow.”

  He slid the steaming mug across the marble, his fingers lingering close enough that I could feel the warmth of his skin. “I added honey. The way you like it.”

  Even the small considerations were still there. My throat tightened. “Where’s Blake?”

  “Conference call with Tokyo. Business strategizing as usual.”

  I set my mug down with deliberate care. “Right. Because that’s what the two of you do. Strategize.”

  His jaw tightened. “Leo⁠—”

  “Tell me something,” my voice stayed level, but the words carried all the hurt I’d been swallowing. “When exactly did I stop being a business opportunity?”

  The question hung in the air between us.

  Through the bond, I felt something that could only be pain. “Why are you punishing me for protecting you?”

  “I’m not punishing you,” I said defensively.

  His eyebrow arched. “Aren’t you?”

  “You think every enemy you’ve made won’t eventually figure out that the best way to hurt you is through me?” I laughed, but there was no humor in it.

  His whole body went rigid. “No one is going to hurt you.”

  “Because you’ll destroy them first?” I asked. “You can’t just leave bodies in your wake every time someone stands in your path—even just figuratively.”

  He frowned. His fingers clenched white against the marble countertop, knuckles straining beneath skin. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

  “Do I?” I slid off the stool, the movement making me sway as dizziness washed over me.

  Dominic was beside me instantly, his hands steadying my shoulders. The contact sent relief flooding through my system that I tried desperately to ignore.

  “You need a proper meal.” He said, his cool gray eyes examining my face. “And you need to let me scent you.”

  “I’m okay, really.” I said automatically, but my voice cracked on the words. My body betrayed me, trembling and leaning toward him even as my mouth formed the denial.

  The way his nostrils flared told me he could smell exactly how much I craved his touch, how desperately I wanted to bury my face in his neck and breathe him in.

  He was kind enough to not voice what we both knew.

  “You’re not going anywhere until you eat something and let me scent you properly,” he said, alpha authority creeping into his voice. “I don’t care how angry you are with me.”

  My knees went weak at the command, my omega biology responding even when my rational mind rebelled.

  “Fine,” I whispered, hating how small I sounded.

  Dominic didn’t move toward me. Instead, he stood perfectly still, waiting. Making me come to him first, making me choose the contact. The consideration in that gesture made my throat tight.

  I stepped closer, close enough to catch his familiar scent of pine and cinnamon and something else uniquely him. My hands found his chest, fingers curling into the soft cotton of his Henley as I pressed my face against his neck.

  His arms came around me immediately, one hand cupping the back of my head while the other settled at the small of my back. The relief was instantaneous and overwhelming—the constant anxiety that had been gnawing at me for days finally easing as his pheromones flooded my system.

  “Christ, Leo,” he breathed against my hair, his voice rough. “You’re shaking.”

  I was. My whole body was trembling with relief as his scent wrapped around me like a blanket. My body went limp against his, finally able to stop fighting and just accept what it needed. The pregnancy hormones seemed to amplify everything, making the neediness gnawing at me feel like a physical wound that only his proximity could heal.

  “Y—you can scent me too,” I whispered, tilting my head to expose my throat to him. “If you want to.”

  A growl rumbled through his chest, vibrating against my palms. “You know I do.”

  He nuzzled into my hair, scenting me in return, and I felt his whole body relax. His scent grew richer, more intense, flooding my system with chemical signals that told my hindbrain everything was safe.

  Alpha was here. Alpha would provide and protect and care for his omega and their⁠—

  “Better?” he murmured, his lips brushing my temple.

  I nodded against his neck, not trusting my voice. This was what I’d been missing—not just his touch, but his presence, his scent, the bone-deep certainty that my alpha was present and whole and mine.

  “How have you been holding up?” I finally asked softly.

  “Like hell,” he admitted, his arms tightening around me. “I can’t sleep, can’t focus. Blake threatened to sedate me last night if I didn’t stop pacing.”

  Despite everything, warmth bloomed in my chest. “That sounds like Blake.”

  His scent spiked with something darker, more possessive. “Yesterday morning I caught myself standing outside your door for twenty minutes, just imagining I could hear you breathing on the other side.”

  His voice was rougher now, affected by our proximity and the way I was unconsciously nuzzling his throat. “We can’t keep doing this, Leo. This separation⁠—”

  “It’s not really a separation.” I pulled back to look at him, though I didn’t step out of his arms. Just the loss of contact with his neck made me want to whimper. “We’re just one room apart. We can access each other if it’s really needed.”

  “Even one room away is driving me fucking insane.”

  I pressed my face into the curve of his throat again, my hands slipping under the soft cotton to map the ridges of muscle along his spine. “I’m trying to figure out how to trust you.”

  “With what? I never lied to you about who I am.”

  “Didn’t you?” The words came out softer now, less accusatory. The scenting had made me feel safer, more secure. Almost floaty even. “You approached me as part of your and Blake’s business plan. You seduced me to get access to district information. You planned to manipulate me into betraying people I love, people I’ve known all my life. How do I know when the manipulation ended and the real feelings began?”

  He went very still in my arms. “You think I faked everything?”

  “I think you’re very good at getting what you want. I think you saw a lonely omega who’d be stupidly flattered by attention from someone like you, and you used that.” My voice dropped to a whisper. “Successful. Sophisticated. Out of my league. And I do believe somewhere along the way it became real for you, but I don’t know when. I don’t know if that first time we… I don’t know if that was part of the plan or⁠—”

  “Stop.” The word came out a clipped growl. “If anything, you’re out of my league, baby.”

  But I couldn’t stop. The scenting had made me feel safer, and with that security came the courage to voice the fears that had been eating at me. “How do I know if you bonded with me because you loved me, or because it was convenient? How do I know⁠—”