Chapter 2
Massimo
I adjust my tie for the third time this morning, restless energy humming through me. Today feels different, charged with possibility. My reflection stares back from the sleek glass desktop, showing a confident mask that doesn’t quite match the anxiety in my gut. Before I can adjust the damn tie again, a soft knock at the door interrupts me.
“Come in,” I call out.
Marcus, my assistant, steps into the room with practiced efficiency, carrying my morning espresso and a neatly organized tablet. As usual, his Beta scent is mild, almost neutral, perfectly professional. He sets the tiny porcelain cup precisely to the right of my keyboard.
“Good morning, Massimo.” He offers a slight, polite smile. “I have your schedule ready. Your first meeting is at ten o'clock sharp with Rowan Hart. She’s already checked in at reception.”
“Thank you, Marcus.” I take a slow sip, savoring the rich bitterness that helps anchor my mind. “Any updates or changes for today?”
“None so far. You have lunch with Cole and Xavier at twelve-thirty to discuss next steps in the Aphrodite campaign, followed by fittings and design approvals this afternoon.” He taps the tablet a few times, then looks back at me with a raised brow. “Is there anything else you need?”
“No, Marcus, that’s perfect. Let Rowan know I’ll be ready for her in five minutes.”
“Of course.” Marcus gives a sharp nod, slipping quietly out of my office.
As the door clicks shut, I lean back in my chair, letting out a breath. Rowan Hart. The name alone makes my pulse quicken, a reaction that surprises even me. I’ve spent hours poring over her social media presence; watched endless videos where she showed how she crafts her nests, her fingers gracefully arranging blankets, pillows, fabrics that feel impossibly soft even through the screen. Her warmth, authenticity, and sheer talent captured my attention immediately.
But it isn’t just her designs or her massive following. There’s something else. Something intriguing beneath the surface of every bright smile she offers her audience, something vulnerable and quietly defiant that speaks directly to me.
Too bad she’s a Beta and our pack lead wants an Omega.
Cole announced privately that our pack would use this Aphrodite search as a discreet way to seek out our Omega.
The pack’s Omega. The thought sends a strange thrill through my chest. Of course, Rowan is listed as a Beta, everyone thinks she is, at least, but there’s something about her I can't quite place, something that makes me wonder if she's more than she appears. The possibility, no matter how slim, makes my fingers tighten around my espresso cup.
I set down my cup, square my shoulders, and stand. It’s time to meet Rowan Hart and see if she’s everything, I imagine.
A gentle knock signals Rowan’s arrival.
“Come in,” I call, keeping my voice smooth despite the racing of my pulse.
The door opens slowly, and Rowan Hart steps into my office. My breath catches subtly, my first impression more powerful than I anticipated. She’s tall and beautifully curvy, the tailored cream-colored blazer hugging her lush figure perfectly, accentuating her generous chest and helluva backside. Beneath the blazer, a blush-pink silk blouse adds a soft, feminine touch, tucked neatly into tailored charcoal slacks that highlight the gentle flare of her hips. Long blonde hair cascades over her shoulders like spun gold, framing bright blue eyes that look up at me beneath thick lashes. Her gaze holds a mix of determination and nervousness that draws me in immediately.
Her scent is faint—honeysuckle with undertones of juicy peaches—surprising, since most Betas have little to no distinct scent. Yet hers is unmistakably enticing, quietly captivating my attention.
Despite her poised posture, the slight tremble in her fingers betrays her anxiety.
“Mr. Ricci.” She greets me softly, offering a smile that's both shy and hopeful. “Thank you for seeing me today.”
I walk around the desk, offering my hand. She shakes it and I hold on a few seconds longer than necessary, enjoying the feel of her silken skin against my own.