Chapter 33
THIRTY-THREE
TRINITY
I step into the ballroom for the rehearsal dinner and pause just inside the entrance, letting myself absorb the transformation.
The space glows with warm amber lighting, casting everything in a romantic haze.
White orchids and pale violet lilies cascade from tall glass vases at each table, interspersed with the tropical blooms Lucas and I selected at the market.
Delicate fairy lights wind through the arrangements, creating pools of soft light that dance across the linens.
Pride swells in my chest as I take in the details—the way the centerpieces complement the ocean view through the floor-to-ceiling windows, how the seating arrangement flows naturally to encourage conversation, the subtle tropical touches that honor the location without overwhelming Josie’s desire for classical elegance.
Three guests have already asked me for business cards, requesting details about my availability for their events.
For the first time this week, I feel fully like myself again.
The successful event planner who built her business from nothing, who can transform any space into something magical.
Behind me, I sense rather than see my pack—Matheo’s steady presence, Cash’s quiet confidence, Lucas’s warm energy, and even Kyren’s electric intensity.
The knowledge that they’re here, supporting me, adds another layer to my satisfaction.
“Trinity?” Holly’s voice cuts through my moment of professional pride. She appears at my elbow, looking unusually serious. “Can we talk for a minute? Before everyone sits down?”
I glance toward the head table where Josie is laughing with her other bridesmaids, then back at Holly’s tense expression. “Of course. What’s wrong?”
Holly guides me toward a corner behind one of the massive floral arrangements that provides a screen from the other guests. She fidgets with her clutch, opening and closing the clasp with nervous clicks.
“I need to tell you something about Kyren.”
My stomach drops, but I keep my expression neutral. “What about him?”
“He’s a heat-breaker.” Holly’s words come out in a rush, her cheeks flushing pink.
I blink, feigning shock even as my mind races. “A heat-breaker? Are you sure?”
Holly nods miserably. “I’m sorry, Trin. I know you care about him, but I’m worried he’s lying to you about his background. These guys... some of them aren’t exactly honest about what they do for work.”
“How did you find out?” I ask, deflecting while I figure out how to handle this.
“I used to volunteer at a free clinic that does pre-engagement health testing for heat-breaker alphas.” Holly hesitates, then looks away. “I would have told you sooner, but I didn’t recognize him at first. It’s not like I know him, or anything.”
Because heat-breaking is so taboo for alphas that she wants to make absolutely sure I know that her connection to one is purely professional. As a beta, Holly would only know what she’s been told about them.
How could she possibly understand that Kyren’s history as a heat-breaker is the least interesting thing about him?
I take a shaky breath, the weight of all my lies suddenly crushing.
“Holly, I need to tell you something.” The words tumble out before I can stop them. “Matheo, Cash, Lucas, and Kyren—they’re not really my pack. I hired them through a matchmaking service because I used to date Josie’s fiancés, and I couldn’t face coming to this wedding alone.”
Holly’s mouth falls open. “You what?”
“Egret, Brendin, and Saren were my fiancés in college. They dumped me for being too independent, too focused on my career. When Josie told me she was marrying them, I panicked and lied about having my own pack.” I lean against the wall behind the flowers, suddenly exhausted but also relieved to have a release valve on all the secret-keeping.
“It’s all fake, Holly. Every bit of it.”
“Oh, Trinity.” Holly’s expression shifts from shock to sympathy. “But...the way they look at you, the way you respond to them—that doesn’t seem fake.”
I close my eyes, thinking about this morning’s intense encounter, about the way my body responds to each of them, about how natural it feels to be surrounded by their warmth and protection.
“Maybe not completely fake,” I whisper. “But it’s still a business arrangement. They’re being paid to be here. ”
Holly reaches out and squeezes my hand. “I won’t tell anyone, I promise. But Trinity, you need to think about what you’re doing. If there are real feelings involved—on either side—someone’s going to get hurt.”
“I know.” I straighten up, smoothing down my dress. “I know I should come clean, but I can’t do it during Josie’s wedding. She doesn’t need this drama right now.”
“Then what are you going to do?”
I take a deep breath, trying to summon the confidence that carried me through building my business, through every challenge I’ve faced.
“Get through tonight. Get through tomorrow’s wedding. And then...figure out what’s real and what isn’t.”
Holly nods slowly. “For what it’s worth, I think at least some of it is real. I’ve seen the way they look at you—that’s not acting.”
I want that so badly that I’m terrified to acknowledge just how much. Whenever I’ve wanted something the way I want this, something always happens to sabotage it.
“Maybe,” I say finally.
Holly gives me a pointed look. “And just so you know, Josie is my best friend. I don’t think I could keep a secret like this from her if I tried. You might want to come clean sooner rather than later.”
We return to our assigned seats as her words churn in my head.
Hans stands up at the head table, his usually confident demeanor slightly shaky as he gently strikes his wine glass with a small fork. Public speaking has never been his forte, but that won’t stop him from making his speech.
“As we gather here tomorrow to celebrate?—”
PING
My phone’s notification cuts through the quiet ballroom like a knife. Hans stumbles mid-sentence, his eyes finding mine across the room. Heat flushes my cheeks as every head turns toward me.
“Sorry, so sorry,” I whisper, fumbling for my phone to silence it. “Please continue, Hans.”
He recovers gracefully, but I feel the weight of disapproving stares from the head table.
Josie shoots me a questioning look while Egret’s sisters exchange knowing glances that suggest this is exactly the kind of behavior they’d expect from an omega who thinks she can balance a career and family responsibilities.
I should put the phone away. I should focus on Hans’s heartfelt words about family and new beginnings. But the notification sits there, taunting me, and before I can stop myself, I’m surreptitiously sliding the screen open under the tablecloth.
The message is from my assistant, Celia.
Celia: Urgent - found out who outbid you on the Chelsea space. Call me.
My heart pounds as I type back quickly.
Trinity: Can’t call. Just tell me.
The response comes after a long enough pause, that I’m already pulling up her number in my contact list.
Celia: MBH Investments. Closed deal this afternoon. 20% over asking.
The phone nearly slips from my numb fingers. MBH Investments. The name is familiar enough that it more than niggles at my subconscious like an itch I just have to scratch. Keeping my phone half-under the tablecloth, I do a quick web search.
And confirm my worst suspicions.
Their professional headshots smile smugly at me from the about page on their website. MBH Investments, as in Mahoney, Bowie, and Haxfield. Egret, Saren, and Brendin’s investment firm.
They bought my venue. The perfect event space I’ve been dreaming about for months, the one that would have let me expand into a completely new revenue stream, hire my own in-house vendors and host larger events, like corporate retreats or conventions.
Those assholes swooped in and stole it right out from under me.
“Trinity?” Matheo’s voice is low, concerned. He must have noticed my face going pale. “Everything all right?”
This is my own damn fault, letting any information slip at all.
I remember in exquisite detail telling everyone all about it at that family dinner weeks ago, letting myself get tricked into thinking that they were just listening politely rather than scheming to humiliate me even more than they already have.
Hans continues his speech, something about the joy of watching children find their place in the world, but his words fade into background noise. All I can think about is that venue—the exposed brick walls, perfect acoustics, how the afternoon light streams through those tall windows.
Beautiful and never going to be mine.
I can’t fucking take this anymore.
I wait as long as I can, my anger mounting with each passing minute. Hans finishes his speech to polite applause, and gradually people begin to move around the ballroom—some heading to the bar, others stepping onto the terrace for fresh air, a few already making their way toward the exits.
When I spot Egret at the bar, ordering what looks like his third whiskey of the evening, I make my decision.
I push back from the table, ignoring Matheo’s concerned glance.
My heels click against the marble floor with each determined step, the sound sharp enough to cut through the ambient chatter.
Egret doesn’t notice my approach until I’m directly beside him, close enough that the bartender automatically assumes I’m ordering, too.
“We need to talk,” I say, my voice deadly calm.
“Trinity.” Egret turns, eyebrows raised at my tone. “Enjoying the evening?”
“Cut the shit, Egret.” I lean against the bar, fixing him with a stare that could melt steel. “MBH Investments. Really?”
His face doesn’t change, but I catch the slight tightening around his eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“The Schwartzman Center. You outbid me by twenty percent.” My voice remains level, professional, but fury burns beneath each word. “My assistant just sent me the details.”