Chapter 37
THIRTY-SEVEN
THE DUCHESS
I sat in my dressing room, willing my hands to stop trembling as they rested on my counter.
I’d opted for a soft, full-coverage gown that exposed only my shoulders, so no one would even get a glimpse of the dressing that covered my bite mark.
Simple gold jewelry accented the outfit, with my hair loose and tumbling down my back.
Ocean would be fighting tonight, and I was struggling to get Laurel’s fear under control.
I held another breath, then released it slowly. My hands stilled, and I rose to my feet steadily.
I was in control, and this evening would go well.
My father greeted me with a nod, and I offered him a gentle smile. After checking in with my staff, the Lucas pack arrived—early—and I moved them to the balcony. I settled into the routine, my mind soothed by the familiarity of my role.
The elevator opened with a chime, and I glanced over to see a tall, unfamiliar man step inside my suite. I excused myself from the bar with a smile to go and greet my next guest, taking a sip of water while I had a brief reprieve from talking.
Dang. This guy’s suit was the same green color as the one Finch had bought, and it would suck to have someone dressed just like him.
“Good evening,” I said, freezing as I realized the alpha who had stepped inside was, in fact, Finch.
My mouth parted in shock as I took him in.
His shaggy hair had been trimmed and layered, and though it had been styled, a couple of waves had come loose to hang in front of his face.
The pine-green suit, though not a perfect fit, highlighted his impressive figure and glints of gold from a tie pin and thick rings on his hands.
He looked fucking edible.
I choked on the water, trying desperately to breathe and retain my dignity at the same time. I blinked, looking at Finch’s face to find him staring right back at me.
A little late, I realized I may have overdressed him. He’d need balls of steel to pull off a persona that matched this outfit.
“Good evening,” I said, stepping up and resting my hand on his arm. He met my gaze, his eyes narrowing the slightest bit but otherwise looking perfectly amiable. I started walking him to a seat when my father interrupted us.
“Daniel Song, correct?” My father held out his hand, which Finch shook.
My eyes almost bulged out of my head as I caught a flash of the watch Finch was wearing. Holy shit, Jade wasn’t messing around.
“Daniel, this is my father, Thaddeus Fairchild,” I said, directing my attention away from his wrist, and Finch nodded.
“Of course,” he said. “It’s nice to finally put a face to the name.”
Okay, that was good so far.
It still was terrifying to see Finch standing so close to my father, acting as if nothing was wrong.
“Can I show you to a seat?” I asked, gesturing around the room.
I settled him onto a lounger and got him water. My father came up beside me, his expression sour as he looked at Finch. “Rosania wants us to impress him. Make sure you give him special attention, all right?”
I nodded, and my father stepped away, leaving me to make another round with my guests. I could feel Finch’s gaze following me around the room.
The Lucas pack was demanding my attention, so I sat between Prince and Dax. Prince leaned over and wrapped an arm around my shoulder, tugging me close and burying his face in my hair.
The move was far too intimate, my skin crawling, and his scent was so pungent in my nose, I wanted to retch.
I didn’t notice the footsteps coming toward us and froze when I looked up to find Finch.
He’d shed his suit jacket, and suddenly, I realized I’d made a horrible, horrible mistake when I’d given him fake harness-suspenders.
The way the strips of black framed his pecs was borderline inappropriate, further stretching the already tight shirt. I swear my head spun as all the blood in my body was directed south, responding to the arousal that flared in my veins. It took me a few seconds to realize I was staring.
I stood up, probably too fast, shedding Prince’s arm as I blinked up at Finch. The bastard gave me a smirk, then let his eyes drift over the Lucas pack.
“I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure,” Finch said.
My host brain kicked back online, and I guided him into a chair on the balcony.
God, his arms felt so solid. I hesitated as I stood beside him, wanting to be closer but not wanting to arouse suspicion. How did I usually act?
Finch tugged me down so I was perched on the arm of his chair, his hand resting lightly on my back.
“Please let me introduce the Lucas pack,” I said, smoothing over my brief blip. “Dax, Madison, and Prince. They’re relatively new in town.”
“Recently returned,” Prince corrected, eyeing Finch with a sour look. “I grew up with Laurel here. Now we’re settling back into the family business."
“And this is Daniel Song. He’s a friend of Soren Rosania. Visiting from the West Coast, correct?”
“Sent out here to see what kind of stock you have in New Oxford,” Finch said, leaning back and raising an eyebrow. He had a commanding presence that felt like a physical pull, and he’d even caught Madison’s attention away from the fights.
Finch wore the suit well, but something about the gleam in his eyes and the calluses on his hands made it clear that he wasn't afraid to roll up his sleeves and get his hands dirty. I realized the harness gave the implication that he’d carried a weapon—one that would have been confiscated before he’d entered the Ring.
Dax’s posture had hardened, his gaze more assessing than Prince’s.
“How lucky for us,” Prince said, his voice dripping with venom. His eyes were fixed on where Finch’s hand was resting on my back.
I didn’t move. Prince didn’t own me, and I was more than happy to remind him of that. Finch swirled his glass, the whiskey stones clinking.
“Prince has some very promising ventures, I can assure you,” I said. “This pack has a stellar record in Boston, and they’re working with my father.”
Prince puffed up at the praise, and Dax relaxed slightly. Finch kept talking, and my mood soured as he continued to handle his persona like a natural. He knew what questions to ask to flatter the Lucas pack, but also delivered cutting ones that opened a problem he promptly hinted at the answer to.
His manipulation was subtle, nudges and suggestions woven in until he’d guided them to the obvious and utterly unavoidable conclusion that they needed him. He was good. Not as good as me, but still good. Prince’s initial animosity had been settled, and Dax was talking more.
“And what are your interests?” Prince asked, leaning forward.
“I’m actually here to study the fights. We’ve been hearing about the Blood Well here and there and decided to come see what makes it so successful.”
“Ah.” Prince’s grin was smug. “Well, they have a reliable way to ensure the fighters are always in a rut.”
“That’s impossible,” Finch countered.
Dax snorted. “Not when you’ve got a trick like ours. We’ve got a drug that can induce it in seconds.”
Finch’s eyes glinted with interest. “Now that’s interesting,” he said, leaning forward.