Chapter 170
Dominic POV
She looks beautiful.
That’s the first problem.
Even when she’s angry with me.
Especially when she’s angry with me.
I should be irritated.
I walked into a restaurant and found my future wife sitting across from Lucas after storming out of my house like she had no intention of coming back.
A normal man would have something to say about that.
A normal Alpha would make his displeasure very clear.
Instead, I glance at my watch.
“I would leave you alone,” I mutter, my voice dry, “but this time I didn’t just follow you.”
Her eyes snap toward me immediately.
“So you admit it.”
A pause.
“You followed me.”
That earns a small breath of amusement from me.
Not quite a laugh.
I know better.
She would use it against me.
“First,” I say calmly, leaning back in my chair, “I was worried.”
She rolls her eyes so dramatically I’m surprised she doesn’t injure herself.
I ignore it.
“I can feel it.”
Her expression shifts slightly.
“When you start feeling sick.”
I tap my chest lightly.
“The bond tightens when we fight.”
I look at her.
“Not exactly pleasant on my end either.”
Her shoulders stiffen.
She doesn’t like being reminded that the bond affects me too.
“Second,” I continue, checking my watch again, “my mother scheduled a cake tasting in thirty minutes.”
The reaction is immediate.
Ellie drops forward onto the table like gravity suddenly doubled.
Her voice comes out muffled through her arms.
“You’re kidding.”
“Sadly, no.”
I pause.
Just long enough.
“And she invited Vivian.”
That gets her attention.
Slowly, she lifts her head.
Like the words physically hurt.
“You’re serious.”
“I am always serious about cake.”
For a moment, I see it.
The smallest twitch at the corner of her mouth.
Like she might laugh.
Then it disappears.
A shame.
“Just so we’re clear,” I add, raising a hand slightly, “I did not approve this.”
She narrows her eyes.
“My mother overheard enough to involve herself.”
A pause.
“As is tradition.”
“Being nosy?”
I nod.
“Naturally.”
Silence stretches between us.
The bond hums faintly.
Still unsettled.
Still aware.
“You’re angry,” I say finally.
She lets out a sound somewhere between a growl and a groan.
“Vivian.”
I understand immediately.
“You wanted her involved.”
Her eyes narrow.
“She attended management academy. She understands these things. She has experience.”
I pause.
“And my mother clearly agrees.”
Her expression darkens.
“I did attempt to compromise.”
I lean back.
“You declined.”
A small shrug.
“My mother took initiative.”
Another pause.
“Frankly, I admire the efficiency.”
She scoffs.
“Of course you do.”
Her arms are crossed.
“She’s your mother.”
Her voice sharpens.
“You’re the future Alpha. She’ll always take your side.”
My jaw tightens before I can stop it.
But I don’t argue.
Instead, I say the only thing that will keep this from becoming another fight.
“Pack up your pizza.”
Her eyes flash.
“We’re leaving.”
Instantly, she looks ready for battle.
“No.”
“We’re going to the cake tasting.”
I keep my voice calm.
“You may glare at me the entire time.”
A pause.
“I’ll even allow you to select the least offensive option.”
She stares.
“I don’t want cake.”
I blink.
“You do not want cake.”
I repeat it slowly.
“How can you be angry at cake?”
I tilt my head.
“That may be the most concerning thing you’ve said today.”
“I’m not mad at cake!”
She slams her fist lightly against the table.
“I’m mad at you.”
I nod once.
“Yes.”
A pause.
“That is clear.”
As if summoned by the tension, the waiter appears with her pizza box.
A peace offering delivered into the middle of a battlefield.
Ellie grabs it immediately.
Then she stands.
No goodbye.
No argument.
Just a storming exit.
I leave cash on the table and follow at a more reasonable pace.
By the time I reach the parking lot, she’s already at the car.
Shoving a slice of pizza into her mouth like she’s personally offended by it.
She yanks open the passenger door and drops inside.
The enthusiasm of someone entering a prison transport.
I walk around to the driver’s side.
Get in.
She immediately crosses her arms.
Chewing.
Staring straight ahead.
I start the engine.
“How’s the pizza?”
I ask calmly.
She snorts.
“Better than cake.”
I glance at her profile.
Her jaw is tense.
Her breathing uneven.
The bond between us vibrates faintly.
Still unsettled.
But calmer now that we’re close again.
I pull onto the road.
“Well…”
I pretend to think.
“I was leaning toward carrot cake.”
She turns so quickly I almost laugh.
“That’s the worst one!”
Her eyes narrow.
“Over my dead body.”
I nod once.
Satisfied.
A small smirk pulls at my mouth.
That’s one flavor eliminated.