Chapter Thirteen
Leila
It’s been two days since our date, but Henry is all I can think about. My mind drifts back to him ceaselessly, even when I’m supposed to be focusing on something else entirely. I close my eyes, and there he is, commanding and confident, the way he was when we were together.
There’s something about him that pulls me in.
It’s something more than just his presence.
It’s the way he becomes so authoritative and in control when he uses his pheromones.
When he lets them out, it’s like a switch flips inside him, turning him into someone almost unrecognizable and that I’m powerless to resist.
I can’t help but smile as I recall how easily I surrendered to him and how eager I was to please him and do whatever he wanted.
There was no hesitation, no second-guessing, just an overwhelming need to be close to him and make him happy.
The thought of it makes my heart race, and I feel a warmth spread through me that’s impossible to ignore.
I’m becoming obsessed with him. I know it, and yet I can’t bring myself to care.
All I want is more, more of that feeling, more of that liberating rainy scent of his pheromones, more of him.
It’s like I’m caught in his orbit, and the more I think about him, the more I want to be drawn in, to lose myself completely.
But today is the day I’m supposed to go on a date with Ryan. I honestly can’t muster any real excitement for it. It feels like I’m being led to this man by my father’s hand, a reluctant offering. My thoughts keep drifting back to Henry. No one else seems to matter much in comparison now.
And yet, I can’t deny that a part of me is curious. I remember that day at the house when Ryan overwhelmed me, the way his pheromones seemed to wrap around me, igniting my heat. There’s a part of me that almost longs to feel that rush again.
I also promised my dad I would give Ryan a chance, and if nothing else, I’m a woman of my word. So, I’ll see where this night takes me.
“We’re here,” Luke’s deep voice from the driver’s seat pulls me back to reality, yanking me away from my daydreams.
“Oh,” I murmur, gathering my bearings as I glance out the window from the back seat. I peer through the glass, trying to make sense of the setting where this date is supposed to unfold.
“Is… is this his office?” I ask, almost to myself, as I take in the surroundings.
“I believe it is,” Luke replies, pulling into a spot in the parking lot.
Well, this is certainly an awkward start. His office? For a first date? I almost chuckle at the thought.
Luke and I make our way to the entrance, where we are greeted by the butler, a middle-aged man dressed with impeccable formality.
“Ms. Leila Kaye, welcome. Master Wills has been expecting you,” he says with a courteous air.
He leads us to an elevator that swiftly carries us to the top floor, and as I step out and head toward Ryan’s office, I can’t help but be impressed by the space.
Everything, from the sleek furniture to the perfectly curated ambiance, exudes luxury.
The employees, all impeccably dressed in tailored suits, move about with an air of refined professionalism.
I’m led into a spacious office while Luke takes a seat in a waiting area, and I spot Ryan some meters ahead. As I approach, a voice from a speaker I do not see echoes through the room, “Announcing the arrival of Ms. Leila Kaye.”
The formality is striking, giving me a glimpse into the kind of man Ryan is.
Ryan looks up from the papers spread before him as I draw nearer, his eyes meeting mine.
“Welcome, Leila, please take a seat.” he says, a warm smile playing on his lips.
I take a seat in the soft-cushioned armchair across from Ryan. For a moment, I just stare at him. He seems different and more relaxed in this space, though I can’t forget that our first encounter wasn’t exactly ideal.
He starts to speak, but I cut him off.
“Your office? Really?” I ask, feeling my left brow arch slightly.
“Yes. I find it’s fitting for us, at least for now,” he replies, his tone blunt.
There’s a brief silence as I take in his words, studying him carefully. Then he rises from his seat.
“I’d like to show you around,” he says.
We exit the office, with Luke joining us, trailing a few meters behind as we move past the reception area and into the heart of Ryan’s domain.
What unfolds before us is astonishing.
I had heard the rumors—vague whispers that Ryan Wills had his hands in every lucrative venture imaginable. But now I am seeing this sprawling operation in person, and this empire is beyond anything I could have anticipated.
We begin our tour, moving through the various departments, each one dedicated to an entirely different industry.
There’s a department for pharmaceuticals, with lab-coated researchers and analysts poring over data.
Another is devoted to real estate, where teams discuss blueprints and investment strategies.
We pass through a division focused on automobile development, where engineers and designers hover over advanced prototypes and models.
Each department is a world unto itself, staffed by experts in their respective fields, all intently monitoring Ryan’s investments across the globe.
This isn’t just an office. It’s a nerve center, a command hub where Ryan orchestrates his vast array of ventures with an almost military precision.
The sheer scope of it is overwhelming. It’s a place where every detail is under constant scrutiny and where every decision ripples across industries and continents.
“I have hubs like these in different parts of the world,” Ryan says as we exit one of the departments.
His voice carries the weight of experience and authority.
“That way, I can keep tabs on everything from anywhere. If something requires my personal attention, I can dive in without compromising the rest. It’s all about balance and control. ”
As he speaks, there’s a quiet pride in his voice and an accomplished expression on his face.
He knows the gravity of what he’s built.
It’s a global empire that runs with the efficiency of a well-oiled machine.
Ryan isn’t just a businessman; he’s a master strategist who understands the immense power he wields and has crafted a world where he is always in control.
We make our way back to his office, with Luke once again staying behind in the waiting area.
The atmosphere has shifted. It’s calmer now and more settled. I’m beginning to understand why Ryan brought me here, and I find myself appreciating it.
Ryan walks over to a sleek minibar tucked in the corner of his office, retrieving a bottle of wine. He pours us both a glass before returning to his seat, this time facing me directly.
I take a sip of the fruity wine, my mind still processing everything he’s shown me. Then, he speaks.
“I’ll be very honest with you, Leila,” he begins. “I think we would be a great fit. If we get married, this empire would be ours.”
I nod slowly, letting him know he has my full attention. He continues, his voice steady, deliberate.
“We would be unstoppable together. An Alpha like me and an Omega like you. It makes perfect sense. It would be great for your family as well, for your father.”
I peer at him. He can see in my eyes that I recognize the truth in his words.
The way his pheromones overwhelmed me during our first meeting left no doubt that he is perhaps the most powerful Alpha I’ve ever encountered.
Together, we would be formidable. And from a business standpoint, there’s no denying the mutual benefits of such a union.
But as I search his eyes, I find myself yearning for something more. I want him to offer me something beyond the strategic, cold calculus of power and influence. I want to hear something that speaks to the heart, to the raw, unguarded corners of our connection.
Ryan catches the unspoken question in my gaze, sensing my desire for a deeper, more intimate bond amidst the pragmatic rationale of our union.
“Arranged marriages don’t have to be so bad,” he says finally, his tone softening as if extending an olive branch between the worlds of duty and desire.
“Yeah. Just like my Dad, right?” I reply, my words edged with bitterness.
I watch as Ryan winces, the implication of my words clear. A brief silence stretches between us as I look away, reflecting on the pain that arranged marriages can inflict based on my own experience. The effect it had on my childhood, on my sister, and my childhood.
“Ya know,” Ryan begins, breaking the silence, “my late wife and I had an arranged marriage.” I keep my look averted, but I listen intently.
“We may not have been hopelessly in love, but we had respect for each other. We understood one another. When she passed, I mourned.”
I glance back at him, sensing a rare moment of vulnerability in his expression. He catches my eye and slightly adjusts his posture as if bracing himself.
“We had something practical, and it can be that way for us too,” he concludes, his tone earnest yet firm.
I look at him, feeling curiosity mingling with a hint of sympathy. It seems that this man doesn’t allow himself the luxury of simply feeling, even in matters of love or grief.
“Have you always done everything based on duty?” I ask.
He pauses, his gaze distant as he considers the question.
“I have always known what was expected of me,” he replies. “I’ve always been aware of what I could change and what I couldn’t, and I’ve made peace with that.”
A thoughtful smirk tugs at his lips as if a memory has surfaced. “People often think I win my battles because I win every battle. But it’s more about avoiding unnecessary ones,” he concludes.