Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
My heart raced as we rode the elevator up to Blake’s office floor. The polished brass doors reflected our determined faces as we ascended, my stomach tightening with each passing floor.
Thanks to Penny’s clever strategizing, we slipped right by the front desk attendant who barely looked up from her computer. I wiped my sweaty palms against my jeans, wondering if confronting Blake directly was brilliant or completely foolish.
We pushed open Blake’s office door to reveal not just Blake, but Dominic. My omega instincts flared at the presence of two powerful alphas. My heart faltered at the sight of the one who’d shattered it.
I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms to steady myself. The memory of our last encounter flashed through my mind—his lips against mine, that intoxicating mix of pine and cinnamon overwhelming my senses.
No. Focus.
I hadn’t come here for him. I came here to demand answers from Blake Harrington.
As we stepped into the plush office, I noticed a third person—Brian Collins, Dominic’s deputy. He’d introduced himself the first time we’d visited Blake’s office, all polished professionalism and corporate efficiency.
I watched as Brian leaned in to speak quietly to Dominic. “Mr. Steele, shall I reschedule your three o’clock? The investors are already waiting on the conference line.”
Dominic’s jaw tightened. “No need. You can handle them.”
The exchange was brief and professional. Brian gathered several files from Blake’s desk, his movements quick and efficient.
“I’ll update the investor documents as discussed,” Brian told Blake, his voice carrying that particular blend of courtesy and competence that marked a good executive assistant. “The property assessments should be complete by tomorrow morning.”
“Good man,” Blake replied with a dismissive wave. “Keep those vultures at bay until we’re ready to move.”
Brian nodded. “Of course, sir.” He excused himself with a brief professional smile and slipped out of the office.
Blake rose from behind his desk, perfectly composed in a navy pinstriped suit. “Mr. Sterling-Hart. Mr. Lee. What brings you here again?”
I strode across the plush carpet to Blake’s mahogany desk, my fingers white-knuckled around my phone. I thrust it inches from Blake’s perfectly composed face. The screen’s glow illuminated his features as his blue eyes scanned the incriminating messages. “Care to explain these texts?”
A slight smile curved Blake’s lips. “Ah. You’ve done your homework, but how do you know they were sent by me?”
I crossed my arms and stared him down. The leather armchair creaked as Blake settled back into it, his sandalwood and amber scent spiked, permeating the office. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows behind him, Millcrest’s Historical District sat like a miniature dollhouse, vulnerable and exposed.
“You hired teenagers to deface Councilwoman Fairfax’s campaign posters. I have proof right here that shows you orchestrated the whole thing.” It was a bluff. If he’d really used a burner, authorities likely couldn’t connect him to anything, but I hoped to deceive him into admitting his guilt.
Blake leaned back, spreading his arms across the leather chair like a king on his throne. His cologne filled my nostrils, sweet and cloying, but not unpleasant. It complemented his natural pheromones, probably intentionally so. “That’s quite an accusation. But those texts could be from anyone.”
Dominic’s footsteps echoed against the marble floor as he strode to Blake’s mahogany desk. The top drawer scraped open. I watched him dig through the drawer, scattering papers in his search. He held up a cheap flip phone as he stared at Blake.
“Et tu, Brute?” Blake chuckled, eyes dancing with amusement.
I watched the two alphas engage in a silent battle of wills. Blake’s smug smile faltered for a fraction of a second, then he gave in with a sigh. “4893.”
Dominic’s thumb flicked across the keypad, the screen casting a sickly green glow on his face as he started to read aloud. “Make sure to hit all between Third and Oak. Cash payment as discussed.”
“That could mean anything.” Blake drummed his perfectly manicured fingers on the armrest.
Dominic tossed the burner phone onto Blake’s desk. “Want to try again?”
“I suppose after all our late-night strategy sessions, I should’ve known you’d remember my hiding spots.”
I planted my hands on his desk and leaned forward. “So you admit it, then? You defaced Councilwoman Fairfax’s campaign posters?”
“And my own.” Blake’s practiced smile infuriated me. “Had to make it look convincing, didn’t I? But those messages won’t hold up anywhere. I have to admire your... thoroughness in investigating this matter though.”
He was right. Malcolm and Tommy would never admit he hired them because it would only get them in trouble and I knew I couldn’t count on Dominic either.
Not now. Not ever.
“Look, Leo.” Blake leaned back in his chair, spreading his hands.
“My great-grandmother owned a flower shop on Cedar Street for thirty years. My grandfather told me stories about how he’d spent every summer helping her arrange bouquets and sweeping the wooden floors.
I care about preserving Millcrest’s heritage. ”
“You have a funny way of showing it.”
“The district’s dying. It may not seem like it now, but with the way things are going, it’s inevitable.
The buildings need extensive repairs that small business owners can’t afford.
” He pulled out a folder and slid it across his desk.
“These are the district’s revenue numbers for the past five years. ”
I grabbed the folder, fighting back my hesitation, and lifted the cover. The red numbers at the bottom of each page made my stomach clench. “How did you access these numbers?”
“I have my ways.” Blake shot a sideways look at Dominic.
“My plan includes restoration of the original facades. We’ll keep the architectural details, the wrought iron lampposts. But we’ll modernize the interiors, add amenities that’ll draw in customers.” Blake’s voice softened. “Sometimes preservation means adaptation.”
The worst part was, beneath my anger, I recognized the truth in his words. Just last week, Penny had mentioned his heating bills were killing him. And the crack in my own shop’s foundation wasn’t getting any smaller.
But I wouldn’t give Blake the satisfaction of knowing his logic had found its mark. I shoved the folder back across his desk.
“The posters are one thing,” I pressed, redirecting the conversation back to what brought us here. “What about Rosie’s Bakery? The other vandalism incidents?”
Something flickered in Blake’s eyes—genuine confusion. “I don’t know anything about that. The posters were just to rile up that sanctimonious battle-axe, Adelaide Fairfax. Property damage isn’t my style.”
I glanced at Dominic.
He shook his head. “I didn’t see any texts about destroying any property.”
“What about the figure in the raincoat stalking Leo?” Penny demanded.
“What figure in a raincoat?” Dominic’s pheromones sharpened as his head snapped toward me, jaw tight.
Blake’s brow furrowed. “I had nothing to do with that.” He scrolled through the phone’s texts. “See for yourself. Just the poster arrangement.”
My nails bit into my palms. Dominic’s familiar scent called like a lifeline against the growing unease in my gut, but I fought back the instinct that demanded I move closer to him for support and protection.
If Blake wasn’t behind the vandalism or the stalking, then who was?
The office door opened with a brief knock. Brian reappeared, carrying a sleek leather portfolio. “Mr. Steele, the property acquisition report you requested,” he said professionally, placing the folder on Blake’s desk. “I’ve highlighted the areas requiring your attention.”
“Not now, Brian,” Dominic said, his irritation evident.
Brian nodded, accepting the dismissal without any visible reaction. “Of course, sir. Should I have Abigail reschedule your call with the investors?”
“Yes,” Dominic said tersely. “And tell her we’re proceeding as planned.”
“Right away, sir.” Brian nodded and retreated, closing the door quietly behind him.
“We’re done here.” Dominic’s voice held an edge I’d never heard before. His hand found the small of my back, protective and warm. “But this isn’t over, Blake. You and I will discuss this when I get back.”
“Oh, I know.” Blake’s smile never wavered as Dominic ushered us toward the door. “And Leo? Give my regards to Councilwoman Fairfax. I look forward to seeing her at the auction.”
The drive back to the Historical District passed in tense silence. I glanced in the rearview mirror to find Penny clutching his lucky penny. He appeared lost in thought, his usually animated face drawn and serious.
After our confrontation with Blake, Dominic refused to let us take a cab back.
His steel-gray eyes left no room for argument as he dangled his car keys, insisting he take us home.
The sleek, silver Aston Martin purred to life, its leather seats cool against my skin in the late afternoon heat.
A far cry from my usual bus commute, but the tension crackling through the vehicle made luxury feel like a prison.
The scent of pine and sandalwood filled the enclosed space, making my heart race despite my best efforts to stay focused.
“Blake’s methods were wrong,” I finally said, watching the modern buildings of downtown give way to familiar cobblestone streets. “But his points about the district’s needs...”
“Make sense,” Penny finished, his fingers still wrapped around the silver chain at his neck. “God, I hate that he makes sense.”
“I didn’t know he defaced the posters.” Dominic barked a laugh. “That’s Blake’s style, though.”
“But you knew about the pressure tactics?” I studied Dominic’s profile in the dim light.
His hands tightened on the steering wheel, knuckles white against the black leather. “I did, but I can’t imagine he’d stoop to flat-out property destruction.”
“Defacing posters is still property damage,” Penny pointed out.
“And petty, I know,” Dominic acknowledged. “But he’s not the sort to hurl bricks through an omega’s window.”
“The pressure tactics,” I said. “Is that the ‘just business’ you were talking about?”
Dominic’s countenance darkened. “It is.”
“Well, now that we exposed his tactics, he has less power to wield against us,” Penny chimed in from the back seat.
“He’s still dangerous,” Dominic said. “More so now if he’s going to play it straight. I prefer when he’s cavalier.”
We pulled up to Vintage Vogue just as the sun dipped behind the buildings, casting long shadows across the Historical District’s brick facades.
Through the shop window, Penny’s latest window display caught the golden light—a parade of mannequins dressed in 1950s pastels, each posed as if caught mid-dance at a sock hop.
The sight brought a bittersweet ache to my chest, reminding me of everything we stood to lose.
“See you at the auction, Mr. Steele.” Penny leaned down to peer through the passenger window, his pink hair catching the last rays of sunlight. “You are coming, right?”
“I wouldn’t miss it,” Dominic replied, his voice carrying that smooth confidence that still made my stomach flip despite everything I knew about him. His eyes met mine, and for a moment, I could almost believe he genuinely cared about our little district’s fate, not just its potential market value.
Penny’s usual sparkle returned as he winked at me. “I’ve convinced Leo to let me dress him. He’ll be ravishing!”
“Don’t get carried away with the sequins this time,” I warned.
“Darling, when have I ever?” Penny’s laughter trailed behind him as he sashayed toward his shop.
My fingers drummed against my thigh as the silence stretched. The steady rhythm helped calm my racing thoughts, though it did little for the knot of tension forming between my shoulder blades as I waited for one of us to break the uncomfortable quiet.
“I know you never actually lied to me.” The words slipped out before I could stop them. “But why couldn’t you just tell me everything? Why leave out the part about working with Mr. Harrington?”
Dominic’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. “Vertex isn’t interested in revitalization. I’ve been an inside source for Blake for the past three years. The plan is to snatch up businesses one by one, then bulldoze everything to put up chain stores and tourist lodging.”
A chill raced down my arms despite the car’s warmth.
His voice dropped lower, rougher. “Blake doesn’t want to demolish these buildings any more than you do. Yes, some of his ideas will face resistance with the community, but—“
“Don’t.” The leather seat creaked as I turned to face him. His jaw clenched, a muscle ticking beneath the skin. “You can’t possibly believe that.”
His silver-gray eyes met mine, dark with an intensity that made my breath catch. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t. Blake may be an asshole, but I’ve known him since we were kids. He can’t always be trusted to be above board, I admit that… but I know when he’s sincere.”
The air grew thick between us. His scent filled the small space, making my head spin. My gaze dropped to his mouth before I could stop myself.
“Leo.” The way he said my name, like a prayer and a warning wrapped into one, sent heat coursing through my veins.
I fumbled for the door handle. “I should go.”
The cool night air hit my face as I stepped out, clearing my head. But even as I walked away, I could feel his eyes following me, and the ghost of his scent lingered in my lungs.