Chapter 25
“You need to be presentable,” Aaiden says, straightening the collar of the shirt he had pulled out for me this morning.
It came with a smaller version of the suit he donned himself. President Rockford and his mini soon-to-be-mate in matching outfits that would appear more at home in a boardroom than at a breakfast table.
“Why?” I tilt my head to the side so his fussing goes faster. “They’ve all seen me in worse.”
His fingers brush my nape, lingering at the spot where his Mark will go at my next Heat, and the touch sends a shiver through me. “Because this is different. You’re not our enforcer anymore. You’re my future.”
I snort, hiding how his words squeeze my tender heart. “Pretty sure they all figured it out after the staircase blowout.”
“Jade.” The gentle chastisement pulls my spine straight. “I need them to see this is real. That you’re not just another Omega I’m...” He trails off, searching for words.
“Fucking?” I supply helpfully.
A flash of genuine hurt crosses his face. “There hasn’t been anyone else since I realized what you were to me. Not one person.”
I laugh in disbelief. “Bullshit.”
The idea of Aaiden Rockford, Alpha of Alphas, being celibate is crazy.
But when the corners of his lips tighten, my amusement dies. “You can’t be serious.”
“You were my mate,” he says, his spine stiffening. “I wasn’t going to cheat on you.”
“Oh my god, Aaiden!” I smack him on the shoulder. “Your morals stopped us both from having so much sex! We could have christened every room in the manor before Caleb and Oliver got to them!”
He glares at me. “We are never talking about Caleb again.”
“Is this because of the dildo he gave me?” I blink up at him, all innocence. “Or the ball gag I used to shut you up—”
His finger over my lips stops me. “If you want to step foot outside of this suite before Christmas, you will pretend Caleb is dead, just as I will be doing.”
I bite at his finger, and he jerks it back. “So if you weren’t fucking all those other Omegas, what were you doing going on dates with them?”
“I was escorting them,” he informs me, “to business functions where our agendas aligned.”
I snort. “You sound like a gigolo.”
With a growl, he grips my collar and yanks me up onto my toes to plant a hard kiss on my lips. Then his nose moves to my throat to sniff, and he rears back with a displeased growl.
“What?” I ask, already grinning.
“I still can’t smell you.” He sniffs me again, ruining the starched line of my collar. “I scrubbed you raw last night. Twice.”
“Three times,” I correct. “Very thorough of you. A lesser Omega might have run screaming from your soapy washcloth.”
His eyes narrow. “I want the name of the manufacturer.”
I huff a laugh. “Why, so you can file a complaint?”
“So I can find out how long the effects last.”
“They’re military grade,” I say with satisfaction. “It will last for seventy-two hours, give or take.”
His jaw tightens. “You will never put that brand again.”
I grin. “Why? Want everyone to know you’re finally getting laid after such a long dry spell?”
He releases my collar. “I see we’re going to need to put you through some etiquette training.”
My heels thump back to the carpet, and I lick my bruised lips. “Should have been doing that instead of letting He-Who-Is-Dead-To-Us teach me to kill people.”
Which reminds me… I turn on my polished heel and stride to where my server’s uniform still sits in a pile on the floor to rummage through the pockets.
Aaiden’s dress shoes tip-tap after me. “What are you doing?”
“Ah hah!” I lift my new favorite knife into the air.
Aaiden crosses his arms over his chest. “And what do you need that for?”
I stand and tuck it into my pocket. “In case assassins ambush us at the breakfast table and I have to protect my Alpha.”
“We have guards stationed at the doors,” he says dryly.
“Says the man who was drugged and tied to his bed last night.” I turn to the poor, broken headboard. “May it rest in pieces.”
Aaiden runs a hand down his face, appearing tired even though we’ve only been awake for an hour. “How am I supposed to explain this?”
“You’re the CEO of Rockford Holdings, billionaire business mogul.” I toe the soiled staff uniform. “I’d be more worried about what the house cleaners are going to say when they realize you defiled one of their own. The scandal.”
He lunges for me, but I laugh as I spin and race for the door. “No time for play. I’m starving!”
Aaiden catches up to me at the top of the grand staircase and offers his arm like we’re at some fancy ball instead of heading to breakfast. I stare at it for a moment before I roll my eyes and intertwine our fingers instead.
“How long until this phase wears off?” I mutter.
“Allow me to show you off, brat.” He drops a kiss on top of my head. “By the way, the stylist will be set up in the blue banquet hall right after breakfast. You are getting rid of this horrid dye job.”
“I’m giving you one day to get this out of your system, and then I’m staging a revolt.”
His fingers tighten on mine as we near the bottom of the stairs. “Are you sure about this?”
I tug at the collar of my dress shirt. “What part, because there’s a lot I’m suddenly not sure about.”
He stops me out of earshot of the guards stationed in the foyer and turns me toward him. “About giving up your current job. We can wait, if you’re not ready—”
I hold up a hand to stop him. “I’m sure, Aaiden.”
“But you love what you do.” His thumb brushes over my knuckles. “I never want to be the reason you’re unhappy.”
“While I was away, I picked up some side jobs,” I say, aware of listening ears beyond the cocoon of his suite. “Turns out I love protecting this family more than the actual…”
I make a subtle stabbing motion before Aaiden catches that hand, too.
“So if we can find a job that gives me the same fulfillment, I’m happy to leave the rest to Ca—” I cut off when he arches a brow. “—that other guy.”
Aaiden’s shoulders begin to relax.
“Besides, I can always join the skeet shooting group at the country club, or become a professional marksman.” I pull my hands from Aaiden’s and bounce down the stairs ahead of him. “Give me a year, and you can boast to all your rich friends that your mate is a gold medalist!”
Aaiden’s long-suffering sigh follows me all the way to the dining room.
As we enter, everyone turns our way, and a ripple goes through the gathered family members. Sebastian’s scarred mouth twitches, Liam raises an eyebrow, and Caleb doesn’t bother hiding his smirk.
Ezra, the youngest Rockford, breaks the silence first. “Well, well. Look who crawled out of bed.”
“Impressive,” Nolan adds, checking his watch. “It’s only nine-thirty. I had my money on noon.”
I raise my middle finger at him before Aaiden catches my hand and holds it tight.
“Good morning,” Aaiden says in the commanding tone that usually silences rooms. But instead of shutting down the comments, he smiles. “I trust everyone slept well?”
Damien snorts into his coffee. “Not as well as you, apparently.”
The old Aaiden would have glared his cousin into submission for such a comment. This new version just inclines his head in acknowledgment, a small smile playing at his lips.
“Jade,” Sebastian calls from across the table, his scarred face twisted in what I recognize as his version of a teasing grin. “Welcome back. Interesting method of reentry into the house. Security footage shows a rather creative approach.”
My stomach drops. “You saw that?”
“Every minute,” Sebastian confirms. “From the delivery truck to the staff uniform. I’ve already added three new security protocols based on your little infiltration.”
“Should I be flattered or insulted?” I ask.
“Both,” Sebastian and Aaiden say at the same time.
Then Aaiden gives his brother a reproachful glare. “You could have warned me.”
Sebastian shakes his head. “You deserved whatever you had coming to you.”
I snicker. “Oh, he ca— Owe, owe, owe!” I shake my hand, trying to escape Aaiden’s crushing grip.
“Behave,” he growls.
“Nice suit,” Caleb calls out. “Is this what we should be expecting for breakfast attire all the time, now?”
I ignore my ex-mentor as Aaiden guides me to the empty chair at his right side.
Conversation resumes around us as Aaiden pulls out my chair and remains standing behind me until I’m seated.
“Guess we know who’s in charge now,” Caleb stage-whispers to his twin, Damien.
Aaiden reaches for the platter of scrambled eggs, serving a generous portion onto my plate before adding bacon and toast, arranging the food how I like it, with the bacon not touching the eggs, and the toast on a separate plate.
“Coffee?” he asks.
“I can get my own coffee,” I insist.
“I know you can.” He leans over to kiss my temple. “Black with two sugars, right?”
Caleb makes a gagging sound, and I pick up my butter knife as I consider stabbing him. It would be so much easier to pretend he was dead if he really were.
Before I can respond, the kitchen door swings open, and my mother emerges, carrying a fresh pot of coffee. She stops short when she spots me, her professional mask slipping for a second to reveal relief so profound that my throat tightens.
Her eyes dart to Aaiden and back to me as she approaches the table, pouring coffee into my cup with steady hands that betray none of the emotion I saw moments ago.
“Thank you, Mrs. Bustly,” Aaiden says.
My mother doesn’t respond. Instead, she moves to the sideboard, picks up a plate I hadn’t noticed before, and returns to drop it in front of Aaiden with a thud. On it sit two pieces of toast, burned black around the edges and cold enough that no steam rises from them.
“You‘re still not out of the doghouse as far as I’m concerned,” she warns loud enough for those nearby to hear. “If you hurt my son again, there will be hell to pay.”
Snickers go around the table, while my fingers tighten around my butter knife as I wait for Aaiden’s reaction. So help me, if he snaps at my mother, I will end him.