Chapter 24
LUKE
T he doorbell chimes through the house, and I’m already moving toward the front door. Mid-morning, right on scheduled torture. Victoria Williams. Fuck me.
I catch sight of Cindy in the hallway, and something stops me cold. She’s leaning against the wall like she needs it for support, one hand pressed to her stomach. Her face is flushed, a thin sheen of sweat on her forehead despite the AC running full blast.
“You good?” I ask, keeping my voice low.
She straightens too quickly, pasting on a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “Fine. Totally fine.”
Bullshit. Cindy is throwing off every red flag in the book.
Her scent, Christ, her scent is different.
Still that sweetness she carries but underneath it there’s something deeper now.
Richer. It makes my teeth ache and my dick twitch, and I have to force myself to not do something stupid like pin her against the wall and taste her neck.
She’s doused herself in perfume. Floral, cloying stuff that would make most people gag. To an Alpha’s nose, though? Might as well be waving a neon sign that says Omega in Pre-Heat .
Speaking of which, she keeps trying to place her hair over the bite mark on her neck, but I spotted it first thing this morning. Faint, fresh, and unmistakably Holt’s. As if I didn’t already hear him last night, fucking our Omega like a man possessed. Like she was his to claim first.
But my time is coming.
And fuck, the wait is driving me insane.
The doorbell rings again. Insistent.
“I’ll get it,” I say. “You should sit down or something.”
“I’m fine.” She pushes off the wall, swaying slightly. “I can greet my mother.”
“Yeah, you look real steady there, sweetheart.” The endearment slips out, and I watch color flood her cheeks. Not from the heat. From me.
Her eyes flash. “I got this.”
I hold up my hands, but I can’t stop looking at her mouth. “Just saying you look like you’re about to keel over and you got me worried.”
“I called in sick to work this morning,” she says, like that explains everything. “I still have to finish some stuff on my laptop later. Just… stressed.”
Another lie. She’s terrible at lying. Her pulse jumps in her throat every time, and I want to put my mouth right there, feel it flutter against my tongue.
Fuck . Get it together.
The doorbell rings a third time, followed by sharp knocking.
“Jesus Christ,” I mutter. “That woman’s got no patience.”
I pull open the door before Victoria can start beating it down. She’s standing there in a cream-colored suit, a designer handbag on one arm, and heels. Her hair is styled in some complicated twist that screams expensive salon. Everything about her is polished, pressed, perfect.
And she’s alone.
I expected her to bring a team of followers… someone at least. But no, Victoria Williams makes her entrance solo, like she doesn’t need backup to intimidate the hell out of people.
Her eyes, same hazel as Cindy’s but cold where Cindy’s are warm, sweep over me.
“Mrs. Williams,” I say, flashing my best charming smile. “Good to see you again.”
“Luke.” She steps inside without waiting for an invitation, her heels clicking on the hardwood. Her gaze travels over the entryway, the chandelier, the curved staircase. I can practically see her calculating square footage and property value. “Where’s Cynthia?”
“Right here, Mother.” Cindy appears in the hallway, and I don’t miss the way she keeps her distance. At least ten feet between them. No greeting beyond those two words.
Victoria notices too. One perfectly shaped eyebrow arches. “Are you feeling all right? You look flushed.”
“I’m fine.” Cindy waves a hand dismissively. “Just warm. You know how it is.”
“It’s quite cool in here, actually.” Victoria’s tone is light, pleasant even, but there’s an edge underneath. “And you’re perspiring. Are you coming down with something?”
“I called in sick this morning,” Cindy says quickly. “Don’t want to get you sick too, so I’m keeping my distance.”
I jump in before Victoria can press. “How about that tour? You wanted to see the place, right?”
Victoria’s attention shifts to me. “Yes. I’m very curious to see where we will hold the wedding and where my daughter is living.” She pauses, letting the implication hang. Living with a man she barely knows.
“It’s my mansion,” I say smoothly, falling back on the agreed lie. Simpler than explaining she’s dating all three of us. For now. “And Cynthia calls this her home too.”
Behind her mother’s back, Cindy shoots me a grateful look. Then she grimaces, one hand going to her stomach again.
Fuck. We need to get Victoria out of here. Fast. Because Cindy’s scent is getting stronger by the second, and it’s taking every ounce of control I have not to react. My pulse is hammering, and there’s a low ache building in my balls.
“Right this way.” I gesture toward the living room, keeping my voice light and easy. Tour Guide Luke, at your service. “We’ll start with the main floor, work our way up.”
Victoria steps into the living room, and I watch her take it all in. The floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the mountains. The custom furniture, leather and dark wood that Arrow picked out because he has opinions about shit like that. The art on the walls that Holt insisted we needed.
Her expression doesn’t change, but I catch the way her fingers trail over the back of the couch. Testing the quality of the leather. The way her gaze lingers on the view.
“Very nice,” she exclaims in a tone that manages to sound both impressed and like she’s found it barely adequate. “Quite spacious.”
Cindy hovers in the doorway, not quite coming in. Her face is even more flushed now, and she’s breathing a little too fast.
I keep talking, drawing Victoria’s attention away. “Kitchen’s through here. We made sure it was top of the line. Lots of counter space, professional appliances.”
The kitchen makes Victoria’s eyebrows rise just slightly, but I catch it. The massive marble island, the Wolf range, the Sub-Zero fridge. Arrow would have my balls if I admitted I barely know how to use half this shit.
“Impressive,” Victoria says, running a manicured hand over the counter. “This must have cost quite a bit. How could you afford it?”
“Mother,” Cindy calls from the doorway, her voice strained. “You can’t just ask people?—”
I laugh, waving her off. “It’s fine. Yeah, it wasn’t cheap. But worth it.” I lean against the island, giving Victoria my most disarming grin. “All inheritance from my parents. They had good taste and better investments.”
It’s complete bullshit. My parents left me jack shit except a juvie record by proxy, but Victoria doesn’t need to know that. She just needs to think I’m legitimate money, not club money.
Her eyes narrow slightly, like she’s trying to decide if she believes me. “I see. And what did they do?”
“Real estate development.” I’m pulling this straight out of my ass now. “West Coast, mostly. Sold the company after they passed.”
“How tragic,” Victoria says in a tone that suggests she doesn’t find it tragic at all. “You must have been quite young.”
“Young enough.” I push off the island. “Want to see the backyard? That’s the real showpiece.”
Cindy makes a choked sound from the doorway. When I glance over, she’s gripping the doorframe like it’s the only thing keeping her upright.
Victoria turns toward her daughter. “Cynthia, are you certain you’re all right?”
“Fine.” Her voice is barely steady. “Just… gonna grab my laptop. Work stuff.”
She disappears before Victoria can protest, and I have to physically stop myself from going after her.
Victoria watches her go, lips pressed into a thin line. “She’s acting very peculiar.”
“Probably just tired from being sick.” I steer her toward the back door, desperate to keep this moving. “Come on, wait till you see this yard.”
I lead her outside onto the patio, and even I have to admit it’s a hell of a view.
The yard stretches out in front of us, a perfectly maintained lawn that some landscaping company charges us a fortune to keep green, flower beds that Arrow insisted on, and beyond that the natural forest leading up into the mountains.
“We’ve got about five acres total,” I explain. “Had the previous owner’s garden redone, brought in some designer from Seattle who charged us an arm and a leg to plant a bunch of native species. Said something about eco-sustainability and watershed management.”
Victoria is looking at me like she’s trying to figure out if I’m serious.
I keep going. “Yeah, apparently we’ve got some rare moss situation happening by the lake. Guy said we might be able to get a tax write-off for it.” I wave my hand vaguely toward the tree line.
“Really,” Victoria says flatly.
“Scout’s honor.” I’m grinning now, this last part all true. “Though, between you and me, I think he was just running up the bill.”
Her mouth twitches. Almost a smile. “That does seem more likely.”
I gesture toward the small lake glinting through the trees. “That’s where we’re thinking for the wedding. By the water. Figured it’d make for nice photos.”
Victoria moves to the edge of the patio, her sharp gaze assessing the distance. “That’s quite far from the house.”
“Nah, five-minute walk, tops. We’ll set up a path with lights, maybe some of those luminarias?”
“And for inclement weather?” Victoria asks.
“We’ll have a backup plan. Tent, maybe. Or move it to the covered patio.” I nod toward the large pergola structure off to the side. “That can hold about a hundred people if we set it up right.”
The back door opens. Cindy steps out, still no laptop in sight, and the wave of scent that rolls off her nearly drops me where I stand. Her perfume cloud has gotten stronger, she must have sprayed on more, but underneath it, her heat is unmistakable.
My mouth waters. My hands clench into fists. Every instinct I have is screaming to get rid of Victoria, throw Cindy over my shoulder, and take care of her the way she needs.
“What do you think, Mother?” Cindy’s voice is too bright, too forced.