Alpha’s Unclaimed Mate (Wolf Billionaire #1)

Chapter 21

CHAPTER 21

SEREN

“ T hey’re right. Twenty-five percent is insane,” William mutters, his eyes still glued to the document. The streaks of highlighter dart across the page like the flight pattern of a trapped insect. “But since Theo and I are the majority shareholders, it’s our call.”

I stare at him in disbelief, my nose crinkling. “So, you’re telling me they’re right? That I didn’t deserve this raise?”

William finally looks up, a genuine, infectious laugh bubbling from his chest. His eyes crinkle at the corners as he looks at me with amusement. “Seren, my friend, you’ve earned every penny of it. These last few months you’ve saved us a fortune. Hell, I’d demand forty percent if I were you.”

I manage a small smile, but I’m still seeing red. “I’m filing a formal complaint against them, William. Someone leaked the increment figures, and then they mocked me at the coffee machine.”

William’s expression turns serious. “Good. Get Jack to send over the surveillance footage immediately. We only keep a week’s worth on file. You need proof for this. ”

My eyes widen in surprise. I hadn’t even considered that.

As I storm out of William’s office, I head straight to Jack. It’s late Friday afternoon, which means we only have a few hours before the day ends. Twenty minutes later, the email with the damning evidence is on its way to HR.

Exhaustion washes over me as I sink into my chair. My eyes fall on the photo frame by my computer, a silent reminder of why I push myself so hard. I trace the outline of my son’s face with my finger, a pang of longing and guilt piercing through the satisfaction of the day’s victory.

“Leon,” I whisper, pressing a kiss on the glass. “I hope you’re not missing me too much, my little fighter.”

Since I’m only working on confidential cases with the senior partners, I’ve gotten a tiny office to myself. It’s the smallest one in the building, but it’s my sanctuary. And with nothing to pull me back home, I spend long hours here, fueled by my silent promise to myself: that my son will never have to rely on the Blackwoods like I did.

I check my phone to see a message from Ethan.

We’re celebrating tonight. And I’m not taking no for an answer.

I frown. What are we celebrating? I text him right back. I thought the jury was out until Monday for the Myer & Kells case.

His response is as good as no response: LeNoir. 7 p.m. Be there.

Placing the photo frame back on the table, I stare out of the window. Even from the forty-fourth floor, I can see the bright reds and greens speckled all over the street. The restaurants here like to go all-out with their Christmas decorations, as if this is their only reason to make it through another year. I’ve stayed indoors as much as possible since Thanksgiving, but maybe a distraction would be good for me.

Fine. I’ll see you then. After shooting off that text, I get back to work.

To avoid the holiday subway crush, I take a cab to LeNoir, arriving five minutes early. Thankfully, LeNoir looks less festive than the rest of the city. I freshen up my lipstick, dab a hint of perfume on my wrists, and step inside.

Ethan gets to his feet the instant he sees me, a large bouquet of wildflowers in hand as the hostess guides me to our table. “You’re looking gorgeous,” he says, pulling me close. His breath is warm, with pleasant a hint of peppermint. He kisses my cheek before handing me the bouquet and pulling out my chair.

“You’re such a gentleman,” I quip as I smell the fresh flowers.

He chuckles. “Is that your way of calling me a catch?”

I shake my head, smiling. “Maybe. Or maybe it’s code for arm candy.” Placing the flowers to the side, I sip the water he’s already poured for us and take in the fancy interior of the restaurant. “So what are we celebrating?”

“I heard you cleaned out the Cushman & Sedgwick coffers this year,” he says, a smirk playing on his lips. “You got a big bonus, right?”

I purse my lips. “Even you know? Great!”

The waitress comes over to ask for our drink choices, and I look at Ethan. I’ve never been much of a drinker, especially since I discovered I was pregnant.

My heart squeezes at the reminder. I wonder what Leon is up to right now. He always preferred an early dinner and a small snack in bed while I read him a story.

Ethan’s warm palm covers mine. “I asked if sparkling wine would be good tonight?”

“Uh…yeah. Sure. Thanks.”

He lets out a little hum. “So, what are you going to do with your windfall?” he asks once the waitress walks away.

“My financial planner suggested some new stock options. Plus, if the money drops into my account on time, I’m thinking maybe a ten percent on Santa Claus rally,” I reply honestly. Ethan is someone I can honestly talk money with, and I value his opinions.

“I don’t think Santa Claus rally is a good idea, but hey, it’s your bonus!” He looks at me with a raised eyebrow. “You know you can spend some of it on yourself, right? If not on a car or a better apartment, which I also think is a waste, why not a holiday?”

I shake my head. “Not at the cost of Leon’s future. I want to make sure he never has to worry about money.”

Soon the drinks arrive, and we catch each other up on our work lives before shifting to how the upcoming presidential elections might impact the policies and regulatory bodies I work with.

As his Beetle pulls up outside my building, he doesn’t cut the engine. I smile. He’s offering me space since he knows I’m not ready to turn this into a relationship right now. He rubs my palm and grins at me.

“Let me know if you want to come over to mine for Christmas lunch. ”

I open my mouth to refuse, and he places his index finger on my lips. “Nope. Don’t answer now. See how things go. I’m letting it flow. No pressure.”

I blink. I don’t know if I deserve Ethan. I’m also scared that things will change once we become more than just friends. Being around him makes me feel good, but I don’t want to use him.

I kiss his finger and move back. “Fine. I’ll think about it.”

Walking back to my apartment, I wonder if I should’ve invited him up tonight. But the sight at my door wipes all thoughts of Ethan from my mind.

Slumped on the floor is a heavily pregnant Jane. Her mascara is running down her cheeks and her hair is a wild mess. Dropping my phone in my bag, I rush to help her to her feet.

“Jane…” I breathe out, quickly checking her dress and the floor. There’s no sign of blood, at least. I don’t think her water has broken. “Do I need to call an ambulance? Is it the baby? Are you hurt?”

“No. It’s not the baby,” she says as she clutches my arm tight. As I carefully lift her to her feet, I feel the tremors wracking her body. Holding her close to my side, I punch in the code to my door and slowly walk inside.

“Breathe, girl, breathe,” I urge as I guide her to the couch and push a cushion behind her back. I grab a glass of water from the kitchen and shove it into her hand. “Drink,” I order.

She takes a sip, shivering. “I saw him,” she finally croaks, her voice barely audible. “With her.”

My stomach drops as I sit down beside her. I already think I know who “she” is, but I let Jane tell her story .

“That bitch from his old firm,” she spits out, rage thickening her voice. “The one he told me not to worry about! I caught them together—again! He swore he wasn’t seeing her anymore, that he’d moved firms for me, for us, for our baby!”

I understand her rage and humiliation. I’ve felt the hurt of seeing the one you love with someone else. It’s why I told her to leave the first time she caught them kissing.

“Honestly, he doesn’t deserve you, Jane.”

She glances at her swollen stomach. “I can’t believe I didn’t listen to you earlier. Fuck!” she screams. “I want to hurt him so badly. Maybe I can steal my dad’s gun. Get both of them together. I’m sure they’re still at it. Buy one get one still works for murder, right?”

“And get jail time for it? Is he really worth it?”

She gives me an exasperated look before her eyes widen and her face turns white. Suddenly she starts dry heaving.

I quickly shove a trash can in front of her, but nothing comes out. I wipe her face with a wet cloth and help her change into one of my large T-shirts before putting her to bed. She keeps crying as I massage her feet until she falls asleep.

It’s almost an hour later when a knock jolts me from my thoughts. I peer through the peephole and my blood runs cold. Gunner. I yank open the door, but close it behind me so we won’t wake up Jane. “What do you want?”

He looks flustered, a rare sight. “Seren, I need to talk to Jane?—”

“No,” I cut him off, my voice like ice. “You’ve done enough.”

He opens his mouth to protest, but I don’t give him a chance. “Get lost,” I spit out .

He looks stunned, then desperate. “I just want to apologize.”

“Apologize?” I scoff. “For ruining her life? Or for breaking her heart?”

His face pales. “It was a mistake,” he pleads. “I love her.”

“A mistake is burning toast,” I retort. “What you did was a deliberate betrayal. One that you repeated multiple times, I might add.”

He opens his mouth to argue, but I cut him off again. “Leave.”

“She’s my fiancée. I’m not leaving without talking to her!”

I laugh, a bitter sound. “Is that so? Well, this is my home, and you’re trespassing. If you’re still here in two minutes, I’ll call the cops, Gunner. And an arrest will look bad on your profile, since you have political ambitions.” I point to the security camera above the door. “All of this is being recorded.”

All the color drains from his face. He hesitates, then turns and walks away, but not before throwing a look back at me—one filled with something I can’t quite decipher. Regret? Fear?

I stand there, heart pounding, watching him walk away. I’ve never been one for confrontation, but I’ve realized if you don’t stand up for yourself or the people you love, then others are going to walk all over you.

And Gunner claiming to love Jane just makes me angry. People have no business claiming love if they don’t care enough to be honest or even loyal.