Chapter 8
8
Layne
O ne thing I am not, is stupid. I might be desperate and currently facing an unexpected twist in my journey, but I know a good opportunity when I see it. Hiding in plain sight, under the protection of Pack De Luca while getting paid? Yeah, shaking on that deal was one of the easiest things I’ve done in a while.
Matteo walks ahead, continually checking that I’m still behind him. His concern comes across like nervousness. I’m not sure if it’s his or if he’s nervous for me, but it’s comforting. The more time I spend with him, the steadier I feel. It’s weird not fighting the rise and fall of our designations. He’s just being himself, which I like.
“I thought you could stay in this suite.” He opens a door, and dappled light dances over soft, mushroom-colored carpet.
Unlike the rest of their home, this room is muted, peacefully so. Light streams in the windows that fill the entire wall on one side, but the view is hidden behind opaque glass and white gauze curtains that look as soft as silk. In spots, there are still patches of sunlight that would be warm to sit in.
“If you don’t like it…”
Unable to speak, I hold my hand up, and Matteo’s voice falls away. I'm thrown by how soft and sweet this room is, in light of the pack who lives here.
My first impressions of their home hasn’t changed much, but sometimes lairs—dark caverns, filled with danger—are exactly what the doctor ordered. That’s what I was prepared for. Not this.
This room is an ideal replica of every Omega fantasy I’ve ever had. The carpet is thick and looks like it would feel like walking on marshmallows. The bed resembles a nest so much that looking at it has my hormones aching—covers and throws, pillows and cushions, silk and satin, mohair and feather-filled blankets—calling me home. But this is not for me. This is for the real De Luca Omega.
Blinking away the longing, I turn to Matteo, meeting his brown eyes that are swimming with anticipation and hope.
“Matteo, I hope we don’t have to argue about this, but I can’t possibly use this room. And, deep down, you know that.” I talk to him in a direct way, intentionally disguising the depth of my emotions.
Walking past him, I reach back for his hand to pull him out of the room, so we can go choose another one for me to use. Instead of leaving, Matteo delivers a lesson in Beta strength, delivered with gentle persuasion.
His eyes rest on the ring I wear, and as he brings my hand higher, I think he will kiss it, but he uses his thumb to rub over the glittering cluster of jewels.
“Everything in this room, we can replace. Layne, like you said, let’s not waste time arguing when you already agreed to letting us spoil and care for you. Say yes,” he whispers.
I wait for the wave of influence, swaying me to agree, before I berate myself for so quickly forgetting he is a Beta.
“We don’t have a lot of time.”
“For?” I ask.
Switching his focus from the ring to my face, he slowly assesses before he takes a step back, as though he knows he’s pushing hard. But then, to keep me guessing as to who exactly Matteo is, his lips twist into a cheeky grin. “I’m dying a slow death, remember? And before that can happen, we need to get you to work.”
The spell breaks without either of us conceding or deciding.
“Will an Uber be okay to take you to work?”
This time, I can’t stop the surprise that flashes over my face, and he laughs, leading me away from the room and back toward the kitchen. “Surprised we’re not demanding to drive you there ourselves?”
“Does yes sound overly judgmental?”
He shrugs. “The Dock is neutral ground, and considering no one really knows about this”—he squeezes my hand—“us not being seen with you just yet is the most sensible way of handling your last night at work.”
I don’t miss his assumption, but he’s right. There is no way I’m involving Jana and her pack. The life they have in the middle of The Dock is theirs, not mine, but that doesn’t mean I would do anything to put her life at risk, like working with her while fake courting Pack De Luca. That has disaster painted in giant red letters all over it.
“I might head out early. Pack my things.”
We walk back into the kitchen, where Dante stands like a sentinel, watching on. Valentine walks back in with a black duffel bag in his hands, setting it on the island. He seems to do that—putting things in front of me, as opposed to handing them to me. Instead of asking Valentine what he’s up to—because he dances around the truth—and I’m impatient, I look to Dante for an explanation.
“We might have a deal, Layne, but at the end of the day, you still have to decide for yourself what you want to do and what you won’t do.”
I tilt my head toward the duffel. “And this is?”
“A bag with enough money to pay for your Uber.”
Letting Matteo’s hand fall away, I step up and open the bag, leaving it on the counter until I see for myself what’s inside. Lifting out a bundle of fresh one-hundred-dollar bills, I look at Valentine.
“There are ten straps in this bundle. Ten straps! I can’t go to work with one hundred thousand dollars in a bag.” I shake my head. “Who in their right mind travels with that much cash?”
“That’s not the first of your payment by the way. What happens if you get hungry?” he asks, somehow maintaining a straight face.
Walking past him, I search through the kitchen drawers, looking for a pair of scissors. “I’d sneak to the kitchen and ask the chef to grill me something. Like Jana has always said I could. One hundred thousand dollars is overkill, and you know it.”
“You need to get used to not being phased by money.” He’s schooling me, and I don’t need to look at him to know he’s still wearing a blank expression. I can hear it in the way he speaks.
Finding some scissors, I return to the bag and go to drag the money out, but my hand hits something soft.
When I look at him, I get what the deadpan look was for. He set me up. Without reneging on our deal. Because, while Valentine is all but suffocating in scent blocker, the worn hoodie he hid under the bundle is not. It’s saturated in his fresh coffee ground scent and practically rippling with his energy. My hand digs farther into the surprise, and I can’t seem to control the way my fingers start clawing into the fabric like a kitten would.
“Snacks are important, and the money gives you independence. I also hope you don’t mind—I packed a hoodie, in case you get cold. It’s not like you can walk around in Matteo’s blazer. The bullet hole is a little noticeable.”
Valentine’s eyes remain as vivid blue as ever, but now there’s a deepening to the blue, like it’s being warmed slowly.
“Since we’re running on anonymity, and you’re against us accompanying you?—”
“You can't, it's neutral ground. You’re not neutral,” I blabber quickly, still fighting with my sensible side to drop the Alpha’s hoodie. Valentine’s mask disappears and he smiles. It’s not hard to figure out that I’m doing a terrible job of pretending I’m unaffected by him and his gifts.
“No, we’re not neutral, but for the next few hours, we can pretend.”
Thankfully, there’s a small part of my brain that locks on to a part of what he said, and it intertwines with Matteo’s reminder that I need to get to work. Also, I need space away from them to figure out how to beat this pack in their sneaky games.
Digging my phone out to book an Uber, I quickly hit a snag—I have no idea where I am. Of course, Pack De Luca is already one step ahead of me.
Dante clears his throat. He does that a lot. I swing around to face him.
“I figured the least I could do was sort out a ride for you.”
“An Uber,” I correct.
He nods, but already, I can see I walked into another trick.
“Ridesharing is actually quite profitable, when run right. Makes sense we’d have a fleet of drivers on our books—well, not our books per se, but being community-minded individuals and all, we invested and have found people we trust to run it for us. Your driver is Ahmed. His family needs all the help he can get, since Baby Anush recently had a bad earache, and the ENT specialist appointment is next week. He’ll wait for you to finish too.”
“He can’t wait!”
“He will. Plus, just leave him a good tip, and he’ll be able to afford to pay for the doctor’s visit, and then his wife will be happy. His life will be good.” Dante keeps his hands buried in his suit pants, making the muscles on his arm bunch. My face feels like I’ve been in the sun too long, especially when he catches me staring at them. “You have enough money, right?”
“You can’t drag a family man into neutral territory.”
“He is a family man, not a Made Man. He is loyal to my pack. And, right now, he’s waiting downstairs for you.”
They’re being too accommodating, making this too easy, but I’m down with that. No doubt, we’ll be arguing about something else soon enough, and I’ll be able to use this—how they’re acting today, trusting me so much—as a baseline. Managing to extract my fingers from Valentine’s hoodie, I slice the bank-issue denomination band, so the smaller stacks of hundred-dollar bills fall to the bottom of the bag, before I sling the duffel over my shoulder.
“I’m not sure what time I’ll be finished,” I say, aiming for appearing unfazed, instead of completely freaking thrown by the last few hours. I need to keep things casual and easy, or I’m sure they’ll twist our agreement again. “Do I just get Ahmed to beep the horn when I get back to let you know I’m here, or is there a card I need to get in?”
“We’ll be up, waiting,” Matteo says.
He accompanies me back down the elevator and walks me to the Uber. Of course, he’s a gentleman, opening the door for me before shutting it and watching us drive away.
The drive back is over before it starts. Ahmed likes to chat, and I don’t know if it’s intentional or not, but without prompting, he talks about his family and how expensive life can be sometimes. When he asks if I want him to wait, of course, I say yes.
Instead of going to my room to pack, I head straight up to Jana’s place, and Tomas welcomes me inside with a big hug. Never once has Tomas, or any of Jana’s Alphas, made me feel lesser; they’ve also never used their ability to push or influence me, and walking through their home reinforces that I’m doing exactly the right thing with both them and Pack De Luca.
Jana is vibrating in excitement, making her collection of silver bracelets jingle, “You have news!”
“How do you know that?” I ask, walking straight into her arms for a cuddle.
“I see good things for you, honey. Your horizon is full of harmony and wedding bells,” she says confidently.
I stop hugging Jana and side-eye her nervously. “Have you been eating magic mushrooms?”
She ignores my question. “Have you been bathing in espresso?”
“Don’t ask.”
Of course she does, and without spilling too many specifics, I give her enough information for her to happily push me out of their home, telling me to go pack before I head to work.
And like the amazing person Jana is, she also tells me more than a few times that my job is always here if I ever want it back. Same with the room. Of course, she also insists I go back to the apartment with enough food to feed an army, while slipping extra money into my bags.