Aria’s POV
Before the silence could suffocate the room any further, Jonathan spoke.
“Before coming here, Aria explained the situation to .”
His voice was calm and steady, like an alpha who had long outgrown the need to bare his fangs. He spoke with so much confidence rooted in certainty, not bluster. The pressure in the air shifted.
Gina froze.
Her eyes locked onto Jonathan as if she were staring at a ghost. The sharp, hostile scent she had been giving off faltered, confusion bleeding through it.
“It seems this young lady doubts the authenticity of the brooch,” Jonathan continued lightly, his posture relaxed, almost leisurely.
At once, every gaze swung toward Gina.
I inclined my head slightly. “Yes. Ms. Carlson believes the brooch could only have been designed by Anderson Turner. And since she assus I couldn’t possibly know him, she concluded it must be a fake.”
Jonathan turned his attention to Gina, studying her with a faint smile. “Ms. Carlson has a very keen eye.”
The complint landed like a blade wrapped in silk.
Gina bit her lip. I could hear her heartbeat stutter.
I noticed the way she was staring at Jonathan, as though she knew who exactly he was. I an, he is an alpha, everyone knows that, but she looked at him in awe, as though she was starstruck and couldn’t believe her eyes.
Jennifer noticed the change imdiately. “What does that an?” she asked, looking between them.
Jonathan turned to her and nodded respectfully. “Ms. Carlson’s analysis is correct. The design style is unmistakably Anderson Turner’s.”
Jennifer inhaled sharply. “Then... does that an this brooch—”
For the first ti, doubt flickered across her face. The possibility that I might have brought a fake must have crossed her mind.
I felt it, but my wolf remained calm. I looked at Jonathan, then at Gina, puzzled but not afraid. I trusted him completely.
Jonathan smiled gently.
“Yes,” he said. “It was designed and crafted by Anderson Turner.”
He paused.
“And I am Anderson Turner.”
At his words, the room sank into pin drop silence. Jennifer studied Jonathan closely, her eyes tracing the calm set of his shoulders, the quiet authority in the way he stood.
Nathan, on the other hand, didn’t look surprised.
His jaw tightened, the muscles ticking as his eyes narrowed. The air around him sharpened, his wolf bristling just beneath the surface.
“Anderson Turner?” I murmured, staring at Jonathan.
Jonathan turned to , sothing almost sheepish softening his expression. “The na Anderson Turner hasn’t been used in a long ti. I retired for soti to focus on my fashion empire.”
He hesitated, then added quietly, “I’m sorry for keeping it from you.”
I shook my head slowly. He didn’t owe that truth before he was ready.
Jonathan looked around the table, smiling calmly. “Are there any further questions regarding the origin of the brooch?”
His tone was pleasant, but there was a subtle pressure beneath it, like an alpha’s warning wrapped in courtesy. He didn’t look at Gina, yet every wolf in the room knew exactly who he was addressing.
Gina’s face burned red, her frustration sharp and acrid in the air. But standing before Anderson Turner himself, she didn’t dare challenge him. Not a single word escaped her.
Just as the Jennifer who was seated beside Gina shifted, clearly preparing to smooth things over, a cold voice cut through the silence.
“So,” Nathan said, his words edged with ice, “you hid your identity just for this mont?”
Jonathan raised an eyebrow, eting Nathan’s gaze without flinching. At that mont, they beca two wolves, asuring each other—one seasoned, one raw with unresolved anger.
I frowned. Nathan wasn’t even trying to hide the mockery in his tone.
Jennifer noticed it imdiately. “Alright,” she said briskly, her voice warm but firm. “Gina was only concerned. Mr. Turner, please don’t take it to heart.”
She reached out and pressed Nathan back into his seat with ease before turning back to Jonathan. “Since you’re already here, why not join us all for my party?”
Jonathan glanced at .
I gave a small nod.
Only then did he smile. “It would be my honor. I apologize for not bringing a gift. I hope Madam Jennifer doesn’t mind.”
“Not at all,” Jennifer replied brightly. “Your presence is enough of a gift. Let’s begin the al.”
She gestured toward the table and cast Collins a look that sent him imdiately toward the kitchen.
The long table stretched out before us, most of its seats empty, the gathering concentrated near the head like a quiet council rather than a party.
“Lana, my sweet one,” Jennifer cooed, crouching slightly as she carried Lana. “You’re too young for this food. Let’s have sothing special prepared for you.”
She instructed soone to make porridge and smiled indulgently. “Add a spoonful of my globally limited wild honey. Our little darling should only ever taste sweetness.”
She brushed Lana’s hair affectionately. The child squinted in contentnt. Jennifer’s scent softened instantly, rich with affection. I could feel her longing to protect, to gather, to bind and reunite.
User Comments
0 comments from readers