Chapter 11 #3
“I don’t want to cause drama,” I continue.
“I’m not trying to turn you against your nephew.
But I want a fair chance to prove I’m dedicated to running Confetti and Meatballs.
I care about that business, about the clients, the events, the reputation you’ve spent decades building.
I want to honor that legacy, not destroy it. ”
This is my last shot. Working with an established business, all those clients already on the books, the reputation already built, it would be so much easier than starting from scratch.
Kane leans closer, his breath warm against my ear. “You’re doing amazing, baby girl.”
The way he says it, low and intimate and full of confidence in me, sends heat spiraling through my body. His voice, the huskiness of it, the casual touch, the pet name that should annoy me but doesn’t. How did these Alphas start affecting me this fast?
Giuseppe picks up his phone from the coffee table, taps the screen, and sets it down on speaker.
It rings twice before connecting.
“Uncle Giuseppe!” Scot’s voice comes through, warm and solicitous. “How are you feeling? I was going to come by later to check on you.”
“You’re on speaker, Scot. I have Hannah here with me.”
Silence. Then Scot’s tone shifts, goes cold. “I told you to be careful with her.”
“Just listen,” Giuseppe adds, then coughs, hard, wet coughs that make him wince.
“Uncle, are you—”
“Let me finish.” Giuseppe’s voice is firm despite the obvious pain. “I’m too old to keep running my business, too old to deal with drama and accusations flying back and forth. I thought you could handle taking over, Scot. But now I have serious doubts.”
“Uncle, what—”
“There’s been a development with the Whispering Grove council,” Giuseppe says, cutting across whatever Scot was about to launch into. “They’ve hired Confetti and Meatballs for this year’s Whispering Grove Christmas Tree Lighting celebrations. Carols, markets, everything for the night.”
My heart stalls, then takes off at a sprint. Oh. “That’s… huge,” I breathe.
“It is,” Giuseppe agrees. “The council committee has made it clear that if this year goes off without a hitch, they’ll lock in Confetti and Meatballs to run the event for the next five years.
It’s a massive contract. Good money, good profile.
Exactly the kind of thing that can secure the future of this business. ”
Five years. My brain starts doing frantic math: income, stability, the kind of portfolio piece other councils drool over.
“Perfect,” Scot says smoothly. “I’ll start drafting a proposal for the program and we can—”
“No,” Giuseppe cuts in, voice suddenly sharp. “You won’t.”
Silence crackles down the line.
Kane’s hand finds the small of my back, warm and steady, as if he senses my spine trying to liquefy.
“What do you mean, no?” Scot’s tone tightens. “Uncle, this is exactly what I’ve been waiting for. You know how hard I’ve worked for this business. I’ve always been here for you.”
“I’m very aware of who my family is,” Giuseppe replies, and there’s an edge there I’ve never heard before. “I’m also aware that profits have been sliding for the last few years. Bookings down. Costs up. Reputation… tired.”
My stomach twists. I know those numbers. I’ve seen the spreadsheets. Lived in those late-night panic emails.
“And in the last six months?” Giuseppe continues. “Since Hannah came on board? Profits are finally going up again. New clients. Better reviews. People talking about Confetti and Meatballs like it’s exciting again. That’s not an accident.”
My cheeks heat, and I stare at the floorboards. Compliments feel strange when they’re wrapped in this much pressure.
Scot scoffs. “With respect, Uncle, she’s been here five minutes. You’re really going to rewrite the entire future of the company based on a couple of decent months and some social media hype?”
Anger flares low and sharp under my ribs.
“Pretty sure the social media hype includes the three council members who personally emailed asking for a quote,” I say before I can stop myself.
“But sure, let’s pretend that had nothing to do with landing the event.
” I just hadn’t known that Giuseppe had been personally meeting with the council.
Anyway, the words taste reckless the second they’re out. I clamp my lips shut, immediately regretting that I’ve stooped to sniping.
Kane’s thumb moves in a slow, grounding stroke along my spine. Breathe, his touch seems to say.
“You fucking bi—”
“Enough.” Giuseppe’s voice cracks like a whip, loud enough that even Kane startles.
Silence hums.
“My decision is made,” Giuseppe says. “The contract is ours this year. After that, it depends on how we deliver. So here is what’s going to happen. Hannah will be leading the entire Whispering Grove Christmas Celebration for Confetti and Meatballs.”
The room tilts.
“What?” My voice comes out thin. “Giuseppe, that’s—”
“You’ll have full control,” he pushes on, as if I haven’t spoken. “Budgets, schedules, vendor coordination, client meetings. Everything goes through you.”
My mouth goes dry. Full control. Over such a huge event and whether this business has a future or whether I lose everything I’ve just started to build.
“And me?” Scot demands. “Where exactly do I fit in this little fantasy?”
“You’ll not be involved in this one, Scot,” Giuseppe says. “You’re sitting the celebration out. Completely. No client emails, no vendor calls, no advice. I need to see what Confetti and Meatballs can do with Hannah at the wheel and no interference from you.”
I almost choke. Scot banned from the biggest event of the year? That’s like telling a shark it has to watch someone else swim in its feeding grounds.
“You’re kidding,” Scot says flatly. “Tell me you’re kidding.”
“I’m not.” Giuseppe lets out a breath that crackles with tired disappointment. “I’ve watched you, Scot. You work hard, but you don’t listen. You don’t adapt. You ignore advice that doesn’t come from your own head, and you’ve treated Hannah like a temporary problem instead of an asset.”
A small, petty part of me wants to fist-pump. The rest of me is too busy panicking because if he’s taking Scot off the board, that means all eyes are on me.
“But I am giving you something,” Giuseppe continues. “In fact, I’m giving you more than you deserve. Because this is not just about the celebration. It’s about the business.”
Kane’s fingers curl slightly against my back. I can feel the tension rolling off him.
“What does that mean?” I manage, though my voice wobbles.
“It means,” Giuseppe says, “that this is your one chance, Hannah. If you pull off the Whispering Grove Christmas Tree Lighting celebrations and if it runs smoothly, the council is happy, the town is happy, and there are no major disasters, then I’ll be drawing up papers to make you the owner of Confetti and Meatballs. ”
My breath punches out of me. That’s… that’s everything. Security. Control. Finally being more than the temp he could cut loose. My throat tightens.
Silence hums on the line, sharp as broken glass.
“And if she fails,” Scot says at last, voice suddenly very calm. Too calm. “If she can’t make it work… it comes to me?”
A cold shiver slides down my spine. I already know I’m not going to like this.
“If there are serious problems because of Hannah,” Giuseppe says slowly, as if he hates the words even as he says them, “if she fails to deliver and we lose the five-year contract because of that, then the business goes to you, Scot. All of it. I sign over my shares, and you take full control of Confetti and Meatballs.”
The world narrows to the sound of my own heartbeat.
So if I succeed, I finally get a real place here. If I fail, I hand everything to the man who would happily shove me into traffic.
“Let me be sure I understand,” Scot says, every word clipped. “I’m forced to sit out the biggest job we’ve ever had, and if she screws it up, the entire business comes to me?”
“That’s right,” Giuseppe replies.
Kane’s hand tightens on my back, fingers digging in just enough that it almost hurts. It anchors me to my body instead of the roaring fear trying to drag me out of it.
This is insane. This is—this is—
Kane shifts closer, shoulder brushing mine, silent and solid.
Scot is breathing hard enough that I can hear it over the speaker.
“So that’s it?” he grits out. “You’re gambling the entire company you built on her? On an Omega you barely know? I can run this celebration and ensure we get it for another five years!”
Giuseppe’s sigh crackles down the line. “We’ll also be having a very serious talk about how you speak about the people who work for you,” he says. “And about the fact that you blocked Hannah’s number on my phone. I know you did it, Scot. We’ll discuss that later.”
Silence.
“Good luck, Hannah. You’ll need it,,” Scot says finally, the words tight and poisonous.
The line goes dead.
I realize I’m on my feet as Kane rises beside me, moving with that smooth, contained energy that always makes me feel like he’s ready to catch me if I fall.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” I whisper, the words directed at no one and everyone. At Giuseppe. At myself. At the universe for thinking this is a fun game.
Because this isn’t just pressure. It’s an open invitation for Scot to root for my failure, and if he can’t touch the celebration directly, he’ll look for other ways to knock things sideways for me to fail.
Accidentally-on-purpose vendor issues. Misplaced invoices. A rumor here, a concerned query there.
“Hannah,” Giuseppe says quietly. I glance up.
He’s pushing himself to stand, one hand on the armrest for balance.
The effort puts new lines around his eyes, and guilt spears through my panic.
He appears exhausted. Older than he did a year ago.
“This isn’t a gift. It’s a test. I’m putting my faith in you, and I’m putting the business on the line. Don’t make me regret it.”
“I… I understand.” Do I? I’m not sure I do. All I can really grasp is that one wrong move and everything I’ve worked for slides straight into Scot’s hands.
And I know he heard the conditions like a challenge, not a warning.
Kane’s fingers lace through mine, squeezing hard enough that it jolts me out of the spiral.
“I won’t disappoint you,” I say, even though my pulse is doing backflips. “I promise I’ll do everything I can to make the celebration perfect.”
Giuseppe studies me for a long heartbeat, then nods once. “Good,” he adds. “Because if you can pull this off with Scot sulking on the sidelines, there won’t be much this town, or anyone else, can throw at you that you can’t handle.”
No pressure. And I read between the lines easily. He wants me to win. Prefers me over Scot. But he can’t just cut his nephew out and hand me the crown without a reason. He has to be able to point at the celebration and say the event decided it, not him.
We’re outside moments later, walking back to Kane’s truck, and I exhale so hard my breath clouds in the cold air.
“God, that was intense. Not how I expected it to go at all.”
“You were incredible,” Kane assures me, opening my door for me. “So strong. Watching you stand up for yourself, fight for what you want, fuck, Hannah. That was sexy as hell.”
I climb into the truck, and he’s in the driver’s seat in no time, starting the engine.
“I’ll help you with anything you need to pull this off,” he adds as we drive away from Giuseppe’s house. “Research, planning, stalking Scot, late-night sex, whatever you need. I’m yours.”
My heart does a weird little flip. Everything blurs for a moment under the heat of his promise.
Maybe I really can do this.
Assuming Scot doesn’t blow up my world first.
“And it’s another excellent reason for you to stay living with us. You’ll probably need to meet with council members, do site visits, all kinds of things that are easier when you’re based in town instead of an hour away in the mountains.”
That’s… actually a valid point. I nibble my lower lip, thinking through logistics.
Kane is staring at my mouth again like he might pull over and kiss me senseless.
“Let’s go get your stuff from Lily’s,” he says, voice rough. “Bring it all home where it belongs.”
Home.
The word settles warmly in my chest, spreading like hot chocolate on a cold day.
I should probably be panicking more about how fast this is moving. About how I barely know these men and I’m already considering living with them permanently.
But sitting here in Kane’s truck, his scent wrapped around me, his confidence in me making me feel capable and strong, I start to think that maybe things might actually work out.