Oliver’s POV
"Stay here, Genevieve," I said, my voice dropping the warmth I’d been faking. I stood up, adjusting my jacket. "I need to ensure my assistant hasn’t fainted from the... ’stress’ of the eting."
Genevieve just smirked, waving a hand dismissively.
I walked toward the back of the restaurant, my footsteps silent on the plush carpet. My wolf was scratching at the surface, wanting to shift, wanting to claim, wanting to growl at the scent of her distress. I found her in the hallway leading to the restrooms. She was leaning against the wall, her eyes closed, breathing as if she’d just run a marathon.
"The restroom is that way, Aurora," I said, my voice echoing in the small space.
She jumped, her eyes snapping open. The heartbreak was still there, raw and bleeding, but it was being rapidly replaced by a defiant spark. "I’m going back to the office, Alpha. I’ve lost my appetite."
"I didn’t give you permission to leave." I stepped into her space, looming over her until she was pressed firmly against the wallpaper. I placed a hand on the wall beside her head. "Is the company not to your liking? Genevieve is a fun to be with."
"She’s a shark in a designer dress," Aurora spat, her chest heaving. "But if that’s what you want for a Luna, then fine. It seems you replaced so quickly."
I leaned down, my lips inches from her ear. I could sll the salt of her tears and the heat of her skin. "Replace you? Is that what you think this is?"
I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. I had a scheduled text set to go out as Raymond at exactly 1:45 PM.
Buzz.
In her hand, her own phone vibrated. She flinched, her eyes darting down to her bag. I watched the color drain from her face as she realized she was trapped between the Alpha who was suffocating her, and the masked Dom, who was currently demanding her attention via text.
"Who’s texting you, Aurora?" I asked, my voice authoritative.
"It’s nobody," she whispered, trying to push past .
I grabbed her waist, pulling her flush against . The contact was electric. I could feel the soreness I’d caused her earlier, the way she winced slightly when our hips t. My wolf purred in triumph.
"You’re a terrible liar," I hissed.
"Oliver, please," she choked out, her hand resting on my chest, right over my thudding heart.
I stared at her for a long beat; the urge to kiss her was overwhelming. But I forced myself to let her go, stepping back.
"Fix your face, Aurora," I said, my voice turning back to ice. "We have a rger to discuss. And I expect you to be ’professional’ for the rest of the afternoon."
I turned and walked away, my heart sinking deeper.
I sat back down next to Genevieve, the ghost of Aurora’s touch still burning through my shirt. My wolf was pacing, agitated by the scent of her tears and the coldness I was forced to maintain.
"Did our plan work?" Genevieve asked quietly, leaning in as if to share an intimate secret.
"Yes," I replied, my voice tight. "She’s jealous. Beyond asure."
Genevieve raised a perfectly grood brow, studying with a piercing gaze. "You must really like her, Alpha Oliver. I’ve never seen you go to such lengths just to get a reaction out of soone."
"I do," I admitted, the truth heavy in my chest. "More than I should."
"Then why are you doing this? Why don’t you just talk things out with her?"
"You wouldn’t understand, Gen. It’s... complicated. There are things in motion that require her to be pushed to the edge."
Genevieve nodded slowly, her eyes drifting toward the hallway where Aurora had disappeared. "She’s a human, isn’t she? I can’t feel her wolf at all."
"She is not," I corrected her firmly, a protective growl almost escaping my throat. "Her wolf is just subdued. It’s buried deep, but she’s one of us."
Before I could explain further, I saw Aurora approaching. I imdiately shifted my posture, draping an arm casually over the back of Genevieve’s chair. Aurora sat down, her face pale. We continued the eting, though the air was so thick with tension I could barely focus on the numbers.
My phone rang—an actual business call this ti. I excused myself and stepped away to the foyer to answer. When I returned a few minutes later, the atmosphere had shifted. The silence at the table wasn’t just cold; it was suffocating. Aurora was staring at her lap, her knuckles tight as she gripped her napkin.
I slid into the booth and caught Genevieve’s eye. What happened? I snapped through the mind link.
Genevieve took a slow sip of her wine, a mischievous glint in her eyes. Well, I just added my spices to the act.
I frowned, my blood beginning to boil. You shouldn’t have. What did you tell her?
I told her that you already asked my father for my hand in marriage, Genevieve replied nonchalantly.
I felt a surge of pure rage. That wasn’t part of the plan. I looked at Aurora, seeing the way her shoulders were trembling, and I realized Genevieve had gone too far.
I kept my cool, my expression unreadable as I closed the folder on the table. "The eting is over," I said, forcing myself to remain calm.
I stood up and leaned down, giving Genevieve a lingering kiss on the cheek—a final, cruel blow to maintain the facade. "I’ll call you tonight, Gen."
"I’ll be waiting, darling," she purred.
I turned and walked out, Aurora following silently behind like a ghost. We got into the SUV, and the silence was suffocating. I gripped the steering wheel, waiting for her to explode, waiting for her to scream at .
We were halfway back to the packhouse when she finally spoke, her voice small, cracked, and utterly defeated.
"Is it true?" she whispered, staring out the side window at the passing trees. "Are you really going to marry her just to get rid of the mory of ?"
I faked a scoff.
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