Chapter 2

Skipping lunch was easier than facing the reality that loomed in every corner of my life.

I had scheduled a viewing with the realtor, and as I stepped into the elevator, I unexpectedly ran into Alpha Lucien Harris and his Beta, Juniper. Her hair was disheveled, and he was trying to tie it back into a ponytail, his broad shoulders dominating the small space. The sight of him—always so commanding, so effortlessly powerful—was a cruel reminder of what I had once thought we could be.

Juniper spotted me first, her eyes lighting up with a sly satisfaction. "Emilia, you're just in time! Look at Lucien here. He's been messing with my hair all day like a pesky kid, so annoying!"

Before I could respond, Lucien lightly pinched her nose, his deep voice carrying that Alpha tone, both teasing and commanding. "Lying is going to make your nose longer, little one."

Her cheeks flushed, and I couldn’t tell if it was from embarrassment or pleasure. He finally turned his attention to me, his gaze sharp and assessing. "Emilia, it's rare to bump into you. How about joining us for lunch?"

In the five years we had worked in different companies within the same building, Alpha Lucien had never asked me to join him for lunch. But Juniper made sure to document every one of her lunch dates with him on social media, flaunting her closeness to the Alpha like a badge of honor.

Recalling this, I forced a smile. "You two go ahead. I have other plans."

His brows furrowed slightly, the Alpha’s natural authority making his surprise feel like a judgment. Before he could say more, the elevator jolted, plunging us into darkness.

I pulled out my phone and turned on the flashlight, the beam illuminating Lucien holding Juniper close, his deep voice soothing her in that calm, commanding way only an Alpha could. The elevator resumed its descent moments later, but the tension in the small space lingered.

When we reached the ground floor, Lucien glanced at me. "Emilia, let me walk you out."

Before I could reply, Juniper suddenly slumped, feigning weakness. Without hesitation, Lucien pushed past me, his muscular frame effortlessly lifting her onto his back. "Stay here," he ordered, his Alpha tone leaving no room for argument, before rushing her to the hospital.

I picked up my phone, the screen now cracked, and called a cab to the property.

Later that evening, Lucien appeared at my desk, a box of spiced honey cake in his hand. Just half an hour earlier, I had seen Juniper’s latest post: "Love is like tending to flowers—there's way too much for one person to handle." The picture was a table overflowing with French desserts.

"Thank you, Alpha," I said, my tone formal, as I took the box but didn’t open it.

He frowned, his deep voice carrying a hint of irritation. "Emilia, why the formality?"

I didn’t answer directly. Instead, I stood, clutching the box. "If there’s nothing else, I need to go print some documents."

When I returned with my resignation letter, Lucien was gone, leaving only a sticky note asking me to find him once I was done. I tore it off and tossed it, along with the untouched spiced honey cake.

I went to my boss’s office and handed in my resignation. After some feeble attempts to persuade me to stay, he eventually accepted my decision. Once I completed the week, I’d be free to leave.

At 10 PM, while I was out with colleagues, Lucien called. One of my male coworkers picked it up by mistake. When I finally answered, Lucien’s voice was cold, his Alpha tone cutting through the line. "Emilia, where are you at this hour?"

"I’m out," I replied, my voice steady despite the knot in my stomach.

"Send me your location. I’ll pick you up."

He hung up before I could respond.

I sent my location but waited until the shop closed and still hadn’t seen Lucien. Checking Juniper’s Facebook, I wasn’t surprised to find a post about her being sick and on an IV drip.

I took a cab home, washed up, and went to bed.

Around 3 AM, the sound of the door opening woke me. Lucien stood there, his suit dusty, his presence as overpowering as ever. His Alpha tone was firm, but there was a flicker of something else in his eyes—guilt, maybe, or desperation. "Emilia, I’m starving. Make me some spinach tortellini."

I knew he didn’t like spinach or tortellini. It was Juniper who wanted it.

As I tried to pull away, my fingers brushed against a scar on his hand. Years ago, during a fire in the school auditorium, if not for Lucien, I might not have survived.

Making a bowl of spinach tortellini seemed a small price to pay for my life. Silently, I began to change into my clothes, ready to head out.

"Maybe we should wait until morning?" Lucien suggested, his voice unusually unsure. "I mean, after all..."

I cut him off gently, "Besides tortellini, is there anything else she might want?"

There was a pause before he released my arm. "No, that’s all," he said, his Alpha tone faltering for the first time.