19. Hidden Observer
Hidden Observer
~JAMES~
U nacceptable.
Power thrums through my veins like electricity as I listen from the adjoining office, my fingers drumming silently against the mahogany desk. Every word filtering through the thin walls feeds the rage building in my chest.
This piece of shit…talking about my girl like this.
I'd planned to interrupt the moment I heard Phillips start his usual bureaucratic bullshit, but then they'd mentioned Elizabeth. My Eli. The name I hadn't heard spoken aloud in five years stopped me cold, forcing me to stay silent and listen.
Originally, it was the three Alphas dynamics that fascinated me despite my growing anger.
Holmes, clearly the pack leader, remains mostly silent behind his blindfold — a fact I find particularly interesting given the academy's files made no mention of any visual impairment. The black silk covering his eyes speaks of something deeper than mere disability.
Trauma, perhaps. Or punishment.
Felix, the tech specialist according to my research, speaks with calculated precision. Every word is measured, and every response carefully considered. He's dangerous in a way that's easy to underestimate — the kind of Alpha who prefers to destroy from the shadows rather than engage in direct confrontation.
But it's Carter who really catches my attention.
I'd initially dismissed him as another privileged playboy Alpha, all swagger and no substance. His file paints him as the heir to the Giovanni empire — a position that usually breeds exactly the type of entitled asshole I despise.
Yet here he is, defending Elizabeth with a ferocity that can't be faked.
The possessive edge in his voice when he speaks about her, the way he challenges Phillips's authority…it's not the behavior of someone playing games.
He genuinely wants her.
The realization sits uncomfortably in my chest.
I'd spent five years searching for Elizabeth, following every lead, calling in every favor. The thought that I might have finally found her only to lose her to another Alpha — or worse, a pack of Alphas — makes my blood boil.
Felix seems equally invested, though he expresses it differently. His defense of her is more logical, more focused on exposing the system's hypocrisy. But there's an undercurrent of genuine care in his voice that sets my teeth on edge.
Holmes, though... Holmes is a problem.
His silence speaks volumes. Even without seeing his eyes, I can sense his resistance. Whether it stems from genuine disapproval or simple stubbornness doesn't matter.
Anyone not actively supporting Elizabeth makes my list.
Phillips's voice pulls me from my thoughts as he outlines their "options" for Elizabeth's future. Each word feeds the fire building inside me.
Laboratory services.
Alternative placement.
Sex trafficking dressed up in bureaucratic language.
My fingers curl into fists as I listen to him casually discuss Elizabeth's fate like he's arranging a business merger rather than condemning someone to slavery or death.
Oh, I have plans for you, Phillips.
Firing him would be too quick, too clean.
No, he deserves something more... creative.
Something that will make him understand exactly what it feels like to be at the mercy of those with power over you.
When Elizabeth finally enters the room, her voice carrying that familiar edge of defiance, it takes everything in me not to immediately reveal myself.
I want — need — to see how this plays out.
Her strength amazes me. Even after overhearing her own death sentence being discussed, she maintains that fierce independence that first drew me to her even before Harvard.
The way she stands up to Phillips, to Victoria, to the entire corrupt system — it only confirms what I've always known.
She's meant for more than this.
The moment Phillips mentions the dismissal papers, I know it's time to act.
"390 points should be enough, yes?"
The surge of Alpha energy I release as I enter the room is deliberately overwhelming — a show of force that has Victoria practically cowering in the corner.
Good. Let them feel what real power is like.
"Who..." Victoria manages to a whimper, "Who exactly are you?"
Watching Phillips scramble to bow, to apologize for a scheduling conflict I deliberately engineered, brings a dark satisfaction.
"Mr. Morrison," he stammers, "I apologize! Your appointment wasn't scheduled until later this afternoon?—"
"The Morrison Empire," I cut him off, already tired of whatever bullshit excuse he’s trying pull, "doesn't operate on your schedule. And the last time I checked, I'm here to finalize the official ownership documents of Knot Academy that were approved by myself and my fellow founders."
Watching Eli’s eyes widen in surprise gives me a hint of delight because I’m sure she’s not only surprised to see me but she’s unaware of how things have changed in my power dynamic.
How my alpha status has grown exponentially in the realms of hierarchy, just as swiftly as my bank account.
"What does that mean?" I hear Eli whisper.
I can’t help but look down at her, smiling menacingly like a predator who’s found his prey. I know from the way her eyes are dilating that she isn’t “frightened” by me.
Far from it.
"It means, technically, I own this circus you call a school now." My gaze shifts to Phillips, hardening. "And with a single word from you, I can gladly fire Advisor Phillips here for daring to frustrate my Omega."
I can see from the corner of my eye that my declaration has her cheeks flooding with heat, especially with the tone I’m using. The tension between us is electrifying me, reminding me of how things used to be way back then.
Academic rivals who dared to hide our romantic tendencies behind closed doors.
"She's not yours." Carter just has to emphasize a fact that may currently be correct, but I have every intention of changing that.
"True," I acknowledge and further tighten my arm around her waist. "I just arrived and had no idea Abercrombie was even up for a pack. This works out perfectly, actually."
Victoria steps forward.
"She's the Forgotten One!" she blurts, desperation making her voice crack. "She's rebellious, disobedient…she's been here for five years because no pack would take her! She's?—"
I don’t know why hearing her say all this shit is so fucking funny to me, but it has me laughing at a pitch that makes this bitch of an Omega flinch.
What a fucking hypocrite.
"You mean like how you've been through three different administrators' offices this month alone?" I asks casually, having enjoyed doing my research about her while Phillips was giving the run down to these Omegas.
Most people don’t realize how easy it is to track someone’s lifestyle, especially when you have money involved. With money, anything can be obtained, including all the info needed to bring someone down.
Reputation and all.
"Or should we discuss the creative ways you've earned your academic achievements?" My smile only grows. “The former staff were quite...forthcoming with information before I terminated their employment."
Victoria's face drains of color. Phillips, on the other hand, clears his throat as if this situation is salvageable.
Far from it.
"As...compelling as this development is, I'm afraid Ms. Abercrombie has already signed the final documents submitting to her dismissal from Knot Academy at the end of the semester."
Oh?
The fact that this man believes a few papers with some squiggly lines in ink is going to permanently rid me of my girl now that she’s finally in my grasp is beyond laughable.
This fucker really is underestimating me.
I guess I can see why.
Most don’t know who I am. Haven’t seen how I run this empire behind the scenes.
It’s not a problem though.
I can show them a glimpse now.
Elizabeth’s head snaps up in shock as she realizes what Phillip just stated.
"What?" I can see her trying to think of the gravity of the situation; attempting to grasp that those papers she’d been so focused on reading was a trap waiting to capture her at a moment that was most convenient to them.
"Did you sign them?" I decide to ask her, not like it matters.
I can fix the situation regardless.
I notice immediately from the way her eyes widened with a sense of dread that she’s overthinking things. She used to do that all the time in school or during rehearsals when things were getting so overwhelming in her head, she’d freeze.
Which can lead to panic attacks…and that’s not going to make this situation any better.
I have no choice but to release her at first, which I hate because I don’t want her thinking the wrong idea, but I’m swift in turning her so she can face me, my hand immediately gripping her chin.
With a tilt of her head back enough so she’s forced to peer upward, my lips descend on hers in a smooth movement, making her melt almost instantly as I kiss her with immense need. I want her to get a taste of my desperation. How much I’ve missed her company.
Her touch, her taste, her warmth in those years of early youth and recklessness. The way she fits so perfectly in my arms, and how my brain could always shut off for a few hours in the quietness of the night with her at my side.
I missed my Eli more than I’d dare confess.
The kiss isn't planned — somewhere in the primal part of my brain that's been aching for her all these years, there’s a need. Her lips are soft beneath mine, yielding yet still somehow defiant.
I can feel Carter's rage from the way he gasps, Felix's surprise with the sudden curse, and Holmes's silence that only seems to make everything grow more tense in the atmopshere, but none of it matters.
What matters is Elizabeth and getting her out of this shithole of a predictament by any means necessary.
When I break the kiss we’re more than breathless, but I can’t help but brush my lips against hers, as if to remind her that she can enjoy this whenever she wants if she simply allows it.
I also have to remind her that I’m not simply the dancer from back then who had no domain in this world.
"Tell me, Omega. Should I burn the whole office down for you to make those signed papers go poof like ash?"
The words carry every ounce of promise I'm capable of making.
I would do it in a heartbeat — burn this whole corrupt institution to the ground if she asked. Not because she needs me to, but because she deserves to see her tormentors fall, until they’re nothing but ash.
I plan to give her exactly that, whether she asks for it or not.
She leans in until her body presses against mine, clearly hiding her flushed face that’s filled with various emotions I’m sure she doesn’t want the others to see.
"I didn't sign them," she whispers against my chest, her voice small but steady. "I was going to, but..." She pulls back just enough to meet my gaze. "I'm tired of their system. Especially when it plays out right in front of my face like this."
The admission hits me harder than expected, making something in my chest constrict painfully. I can only think about the day where I heard about the incident. When I called her at least a thousand times to no avail.
The gossip.
The videos of mockery of her running through the halls.
The rumors that continued onward when she disappeared and never was seen again.
The sadness that plagued me because I failed her…
"Is that why you ran?" The words escape before I can stop them, guilt consuming me. "When we could have been perfect for each other?"
Her eyes fill with tears she tries desperately to blink back, her throat working as she struggles to maintain composure. The sight of her fighting so hard to stay strong, even now, makes my heart ache.
I pull her back into my arms, holding her tight against my chest.
For a moment, the rest of the room fades away — Phillips, Victoria, and the three Alphas watching our exchange with varying degrees of tension becoming non-existent in my eyes.
None of them matter compared to the feeling of finally having Elizabeth in my arms again.
But I know this moment can't last.
There's too much between us — too many unspoken words, too many wounds that need addressing. The energy between us crackles with hurt and hope in equal measure, demanding confrontation whether we're ready for it or not.
My mind drifts back to that day at Harvard, the memories sharp enough to cut.
I'd noticed something was off the moment she’d walked through the entrance gates where I was waiting for her.
Her skin had been flushed, her movements less precise than usual. When I'd pressed my hand to her forehead, the heat radiating from her had alarmed me, but she denied it all.
The memory flashes through my mind.
"You're burning up," I'd told her, trying to convince her to go home. "The exam can wait. We don’t even know if it’s going to happen. You know how it is. People are just hyping shit up to make us anxious of the possibilities."
“Nope. I’d rather passout mid class than potentially miss out on an exam. You aren’t going to one up me, Morrison.”
“Eli…”
“Nah. Get moving. I ain’t being late for class and that courtyard treck on a busy day like this is thirty minutes!” She huffed and walked faster. “Morrison!”
“Yes, yes. I’m coming.”
Elizabeth, stubborn and determined as always, had insisted she was fine. The thought of missing a potential surprise exam had seemed worse to her than whatever was making her temperature spike.
If only we'd known.
The memory of what followed - her first Heat hitting in the middle of campus, the chaos that erupted, the way she'd disappeared afterward despite my attempt to find her — it still haunts me.
The embarrassment of such a public revelation was bad enough, especially in a space that genuinely had no clue about Alphas and Omegas. Even I didn’t know I was an Alpha until the “signs” but I know there's more to the story.
Something darker that made someone as strong-willed as Elizabeth decide it wasn't worth facing the consequences alone in our twisted society.
I can’t fail her again. I just can’t.
"Can you stick around?" I ask softly, needing her to understand this isn't just about the past. "We need to talk. Really talk."
I’m expecting her to rebel because she hates “our talks”. Those non-negotiables where I’d force us to sit down and actually speak what’s stressing us to the core.
Sometimes we talked. Other times, we fucked it out.
Either way, we dealt with the heavy burden of our lives and let it go, relying on one another as each other’s comforter.
I wanted us to do that again.
She nods against my chest, the simple gesture filling me with relief.
I tighten my arms around her, silently thankful that she's willing to trust me enough to help her out of this mess.
And I will get her out, no matter what it takes.
"Smart girl," I murmur into her hair, letting pride color my tone. "So clever, not falling for whatever scheme Phillips had planned."
I turn my attention to the administrator, who's watching our exchange with poorly concealed anxiety.
"Well," I say, letting my voice carry that edge of authority that makes lesser men tremble, "since she hasn't signed anything, I assume that means she's still available as a potential Omega for pack selection, yes?"
Phillips swallows hard, unable to argue with the obvious conclusion.
"Excellent." I allow myself a predatory smile. "Then you should know my score is 390." I pause, savoring the way his eyes widen. "It would be higher, but apparently dropping out of Harvard in your final year is considered rather rebellious. Something about needing to 'get a taste of the real world outside our prestigious system to wake me up,’ or whatever that means."
Elizabeth stiffens in my arms before slowly pulling back.
Her blue eyes are wide as they meet mine, shock written across her features.
"You dropped out?" she whispers, the words barely audible.
Our eyes meet in a moment of shared understanding, years of unspoken feelings passing between us. I can't help but smile despite the sadness and conflict I know she can see in my eyes.
I guess there’s no point in lying.
"Harvard just wasn't the same without my fiesty rival competing for the top spot," I admit softly, the words carrying the weight of five years' worth of regret. “Even with a one year break to ‘think it out’ I couldn’t do it.”
In the silence of my mind, I acknowledge the deeper truth: Those years without her had been an exercise in emptiness.
My passion for learning — the drive that had made us such perfect academic rivals — had withered and died the moment she disappeared. My life had spiraled into a darkness I couldn't control, an inevitable descent into meaninglessness that no amount of academic achievement could fix.
What's the point of being the best when the only person worth competing with is gone?
But now isn't the time for dwelling on past regrets.
I turn back to Phillips, my voice taking on the sharp edge of authority I've cultivated since taking over the Morrison Empire.
"With my score of 390, joining this pack would put them well over the 500-rank quota," I state matter-of-factly. "That includes all standard privileges plus the additional benefits and services received in the Hard Knot Wing." My eyes narrow slightly. "And don't bother trying to adjust those terms. I'm quite familiar with the regulations."
Phillips opens his mouth, likely to spew more bureaucratic nonsense, but I cut him off with a wave of my hand.
"I dislike wasting valuable time," I say, my tone clipped. "Every second spent arguing is a second I could be rekindling my...affectionate rivalry with the woman in my arms."
"Now wait just a minute," Carter interjects, stepping forward. His hazel eyes flash with barely contained anger. "I don't have a problem with you temporarily joining the pack if it keeps us from getting kicked out, but you can forget about rekindling anything."
I study him for a moment, noting the genuine concern in his expression when he glances at Elizabeth. It matches what I observed earlier — his consistent defense of her, and his willingness to challenge authority on her behalf.
"You're actually on my good side, Giovanni," I acknowledge, surprising him. "You stood up for my Eli when I couldn't be here. I respect that." My voice hardens slightly as I continue, "But if you truly love her, you'll back off and get everyone in your pack on board with this arrangement. I won't let her be treated like some disposable option, especially when it's painfully obvious who the superior Omega is in this room."
Victoria makes a choked sound of outrage from her corner, but I ignore her, turning my attention to Felix. His tech-enhanced glasses catch the light as he meets my gaze, his expression carefully neutral.
"You're an interesting one to figure out, Reichmann," I say, studying Felix's carefully composed expression. "Hard to read, but your actions speak volumes. You've consistently opposed this little villain campaign to have my Eli dismissed and sold to the black market." My jaw tightens at the words. "Which, by the way, is a matter we'll be discussing in great detail later."
Felix adjusts his tech-enhanced glasses, the gesture seemingly casual but I notice how his fingers twitch slightly — a tell that suggests I've caught his interest.
"Speaking of your technological prowess," I continue, "I found your mention of access to the security systems particularly intriguing." A predatory smile spreads across my face as I feel Elizabeth tense slightly in my arms. "That could prove incredibly useful in documenting Advisor Phillips's...unique approach to student relations."
I turn my attention back to Phillips, whose complexion has taken on an unhealthy gray tinge.
"I wonder how the committee would feel about reviewing footage of an administrator accepting sexual favors in exchange for academic considerations? Seems rather unprofessional for someone of your... what was it? 'Profound expertise and field experience?'"
“T-There are no cameras in here,” he argues.
“And who said that?” I counter and look to Felix who decides to enlighten us.
“There are cameras in every office which are normally reviewed once a year, but I could easily tap into it in one minute and thirty seconds now if you’d like.”
Phillips is gawking while Victoria is trembling.
“Y-Y-You’re bluffing! All of you.”
“And for what?” I ask. “I get absolutely nothing with trying to screw up your life. Well, only the gratification of getting my Eli some revenge for your ludicrous behavior, but either way, the camera security in the offices is legit.”
Sweat beads on Phillips's forehead as he tugs at his collar.
"I've dedicated twenty years to reaching this position," he protests weakly.
"Twenty years?" I repeat, letting mockery color my tone. "Funny, you weren't thinking about those two decades of dedication while receiving oral services from Miss Fake Commitment over there."
Victoria's gasp of outrage fills the room.
"How dare you insult me like that!"
My laugh is sharp and without humor as I turn to face her, letting my full Alpha presence fill the space between us. The way she shrinks back, pressed against the wall like a caught mouse in a corner is delightful to witness.
"Let me make something perfectly clear," I say, my voice dropping to that register that makes smart people run for cover. "I'm not like these other Alphas who let you bat your fake eyelashes and spread your legs to get your way. The only person I'll ever bow to is my rival. The one who can actually challenge me on equal footing."
Victoria's carefully maintained facade cracks further as I continue, "Your family's influence? That precious reputation you hide behind? I can destroy it with one phone call. Don't believe me?" I bare my teeth in what might technically be called a smile. "Try me. I enjoy nothing more than showing entitled princesses exactly how far they can fall."
She opens her mouth, probably to spew more protests, but I cut her off with a sharp gesture.
"Don't push me, Victoria. When people push the wrong buttons, I have a tendency to react...explosively. And trust me, when I decide to make an example of someone, everyone involved suffers the consequences." My smile widens slightly. "Well, everyone except me. I've never been very good at losing."
Elizabeth's soft intake of breath reminds me that she's witnessing this side of me for the first time.
The James she knew at Harvard was ambitious but controlled, competitive but within acceptable bounds. This version — the one forged in the years of searching for her, of building an empire specifically to have the power to protect her and anyone else deemed vital to my existence — is something else entirely.
I hope she understands why I had to become this.
Finally, I turn my attention to Holmes.
He stands perfectly still, the black silk of his blindfold catching the fluorescent light as he faces my general direction. Of all the players in this little drama, he's the one variable I haven't figured out yet.
His silence throughout this exchange could be interpreted in multiple ways — strategic observation, genuine disinterest, or perhaps something deeper. The blindfold itself raises questions.
Is it a symbol of vulnerability or a warning?
Does he hide his eyes to protect himself or others?
What I do know is that his resistance to Elizabeth's inclusion in the pack makes him a potential threat. And I've spent the last five years eliminating threats to her well-being, whether she knew about them or not.
"Holmes, was it?" I let the words hang in the air, deliberately casual despite the tension coiling through the room. "The supposed leader of this pack, yet you seem more interested in giving the world the silent treatment than defending what you claim to want." My head tilts slightly as I study him. "I have to wonder, are you overstimulated by all this drama and that's why you've decided to stop talking? Or are you perfectly content with Victoria being your Omega?"
The way his jaw tightens at my words is subtle but telling. Before he can respond - if he even planned to - Victoria's shrill voice cuts through the tension.
"I'm way out of this pack's league," she announces, desperation making her practiced tones sharp and uneven. "I'm doing them a favor by even considering?—"
"Is that so?" I interrupt, unable to keep the amusement from my voice. My attention returns to Holmes as I continue, "Well, in that case, now's your chance to make a choice." I pause, letting the weight of my next words settle over the room. "Since I carry more than enough points to support this pack through the semester with Felix and Carter on board, you're welcome to exit the group if you're so against having Elizabeth as your Omega."
Holmes's scowl deepens behind his blindfold, the expression making the fine silk shift slightly.
A quiet laugh escapes me as I turn to Elizabeth.
"Stay still for a moment, love," I murmur, pressing a quick kiss to her temple before releasing her.
Each step I take toward Holmes is measured, and deliberate.
The air grows thicker with Alpha pheromones as I enter his personal space, two dominant forces colliding in silent challenge.
Up close, the power radiating off him is impossible to ignore. He's strong - possibly one of the strongest Alphas I've encountered outside my immediate circle.
Yet there's something held back, restrained, as if invisible chains are keeping his true nature contained.
What are you hiding behind that blindfold?
"Holmesovich," I say his full name with perfect pronunciation, acknowledging the Russian heritage it carries.
His frown deepens further, and I switch effortlessly to his native tongue.
"Я не знаю, что стоит на кону в этом постоянном акте эмоционального лицемерия," I say, letting my Russian flow smooth and natural, "но у меня нет настроения иметь с этим дело."
I have no idea what's at stake in this constant act of emotional hypocrisy, but I'm not in the mood to deal with it.
The slight tension in his shoulders tells me I've caught him off guard.
Good.
"Хочешь вести себя как мальчишка – делай это в чужое время," I continue, my voice hardening. "Но если ты собираешься быть мужчиной и попытаться узнать Омегу, к которой у тебя явно какой-то странный фетиш ненависти, тогда собери свои трусливые яйца и начни говорить."
Want to act like a boy , do it on someone else's time. But if you're going to be a man and try to learn about the Omega you clearly have some weird hate fetish with, then gather your cowardly balls and start talking.
Holmes's response comes in equally fluid Russian, his accent heavier than mine.
"Ты знаешь, с кем, черт возьми, разговариваешь?"
Do you know who the fuck you're talking to?
I switch back to English, letting everyone hear my response.
"Oh, I know exactly who you are." My smile is all teeth as I continue, "But maybe you should do a quick Google search on the Morrisons. See who's really running the underground drug trade these days."
The silence that follows is deafening.
Even the Victoria bitch seems to be holding her breath as the implications of my words sink in.
The Morrison Empire isn't just about legitimate business ventures and academic institutions. Our reach extends into every dark corner of society, controlling supply lines and territories that make other crime families look like amateur street dealers.
A fact Holmes is clearly processing, given the way his jaw works silently.
"I rest my case," I say pleasantly, turning my attention back to Phillips, who looks like he might faint. "Now, about those dismissal papers..."
The way Phillips shrinks back in his chair is almost comical. His perfectly pressed suit is wrinkled from nervous fidgeting, and sweat stains are starting to show through the expensive fabric.
Let him squirm.
The power dynamics in the room have shifted irrevocably.
Holmes's silence now carries a different weight — not the calculated restraint of before, but something closer to genuine consideration. Felix's subtle adjustments to his glasses suggest he's already running background checks, confirming my claims with those special glasses of his. And Carter...
Carter's expression has shifted from hostile to thoughtful, his protective stance near Elizabeth unchanged but somehow less antagonistic.
They're starting to understand that this isn't just about pack politics or academic standings. This is about power — real power — and I've spent five years accumulating enough of it to ensure Elizabeth never has to feel powerless again.
Whether she wants my protection or not.
The thought brings a bitter edge to my satisfaction.
Elizabeth has always been fiercely independent, determined to fight her own battles. Will she see this display of power as protection or possession? Will she understand that everything I've built, every empire I've toppled and territory I've claimed, was all for her?
Does she even want it to be?
The questions swirl in my mind, but I push them aside.
Right now, what matters is dealing with the immediate threat to her safety and dignity. Everything else — our complicated past, our uncertain future, the way she still fits perfectly in my arms despite five years apart — can wait.
First, we clean house.
"One semester," I announce, turning back to Phillips with deliberate slowness. "The four of us," I emphasize the number, watching him flinch, "will prove to you blind fools that we have chemistry with Elizabeth Abercrombie. If we make it to semester's end relatively intact, we leave Hard Knot Academy safely with our Omega."
I let my gaze sweep the room before continuing.
"The school's protection will still shield these Alphas from their bounties, and with our pack bond in motion, any harm brought to Elizabeth will have...severe consequences."
Moving to the desk, I place my palms flat on its surface, leaning forward.
"I'll draw up the documents myself. You'll approve them without question if you want to keep your position." My voice drops lower. "Though I'm sorely tempted to rid this institution of your presence right now."
Straightening, I return to Elizabeth's side, wrapping my arm around her shoulders and pulling her against me. The familiar warmth of her body sends a jolt through my system that I carefully ignore.
"That's the deal," I state firmly. "From this moment forward, Abercrombie is our Omega. All original and new terms and privileges apply immediately." My grip tightens slightly. "I don't care if the dorms are full or reassigned. I want a private suite established for our pack before the end of the school day. And ensure there's adequate parking - a minimum of five spots. Our Omega will need her own ride."
Elizabeth's head snaps toward me, surprise evident in her features.
“I-I get one?”
“You get whatever you want, Eli,” I assure her. “My Omega can take my ride whenever she wants, which means you can totally get a bike if that’s the vehicle you want.” I lean in closer and add, “You want a car and a bike? Say the word and you’ll get both.”
She’s red as ever, the flush making her look so damn hot and innocent.
Even though I remember that my academic rival knows how to work in the bedroom…especially with that mouth of hers.
I can't help but smirk, giving her a look that promises we'll talk about everything in detail later .
"Also," I continue, returning my attention to Phillips once more, "have new uniforms sent to our suite. Highest quality fabric only." I pluck at my sleeve in disgust. "This cheap material is unacceptable."
Turning to the three Alphas, I soften my tone slightly.
"Since you're my fellow comrades now, I hope we can attempt some form of cooperation." My attention fixes on Carter specifically. "And since I just saved your collective asses, I want the afternoon with Eli. No stalking, no interruptions, no matter how jealous you might be. You owe me this much, and I trust you'll respect that."
Felix shifts slightly, and I add, "That includes your surveillance, Reichmann. Give us actual privacy for once." A sharp smile crosses my face. "Or I can introduce your systems to a virus that'll have them down for a week."
Felix opens his mouth, then closes it wisely.
"Smart man," I praise before announcing, "We're done here."
"Mr. Morrison," Phillips calls out, desperation making his voice crack. "Thank you for your mercy. You're just like your father. It’s a shame that he passed last year, but?—"
"Stop." The word cuts through the air like a blade. Him out of all people can’t be reminding me of something so vital and precious. "I am nothing like my father." My voice drops to a deadly whisper. "If he were standing here, you'd already have a bullet in your head instead of still running your mouth."
The color drains from Phillips's face as I guide Elizabeth toward the door, my hand steady at the lower part of her back.
The silence that follows us is profound, broken only by the soft click of the door closing behind us.
The hallway stretches empty before us, and for the first time since entering that office, I allow myself to really feel the weight of Elizabeth pressed against my side.
Five years of searching, of building power, of preparing for this moment.
And now here we are, walking away from a confrontation that's changed everything.
Now the real question remains.
What happens next?