Chapter 8 #2
She looked over her shoulder and Daniel grinned at her, his brown eyes soft and sweet like his butterscotch and chocolate scent.
Bianca should’ve been furious at him for looking at her that way, like she was someone who deserved softness, someone who could know tenderness.
She was angry about it—the unfairness of that look and its power to undo every bit of the work she’d done to save herself, to take control of her life.
She’d made the only choice possible for someone like her, and she’d accepted it with dignity.
Daniel looked at her like there was another option, another possibility. And that look was unforgivable. That look was ruinous.
“You don’t have to negotiate a thing, BB,” he promised, still grinning like a fool. “Your role with us is whatever you want it to be. You’ll never need a promotion. What’s higher than number one? Now let me show you how to escape a bear hug attack.”
Daniel didn’t give her time to think about what he’d said, distracting her immediately by demonstrating said attack.
It involved wrapping his tree trunk arms around her from behind, enveloping her in his decadent candy scent.
Bianca could only hope her moisture-wicking leggings could withstand the rush of slick that undoubtedly soaked through her panties when he lifted her easily, his breath warm on her neck.
Thank the gods that the next steps in the lesson involved an opportunity to elbow him in the face, because Bianca had to do something with the tumultuous energy coursing through her body.
Daniel seemed more than willing to oblige her, repeating the lesson again and again.
A half hour later, she was completely exhausted, muscles screaming, and she hadn’t managed to escape him once.
But it had been damn satisfying to fight with all of her energy, all her anger, all her untamed ferocity. She didn’t have to hold back, to make herself small, to make herself perfect. He embraced it, enjoyed it even, the big stupid golden retriever.
It was exhilarating and terrifying and Bianca simply couldn’t handle it. She abruptly cut the workout short, needing to put some distance between them so that she could think without drowning in his sweet pheromones. She couldn’t help a final barb before she fled.
“You should also consider founding a charitable organization that provides internships and job placement support for veterans and former athletes. It fits your brand and there are tons of perks for small businesses who do that sort of thing.” Before the big idiot could give her those gooey eyes again, she scowled and turned away.
“You can have that one for free, since there’s no way in hell you could actually afford me. ”
She could hear him chuckling quietly as she made her escape.
Wednesday arrived without any further clarity.
Bianca spent the intervening days avoiding Pack King and doubling down on her plans for Pack Willoughby.
She joined the older alphas as their date for a business lunch, and found herself mildly interested in their conversation, until Lord Willoughby pretended not to hear one of her comments only to repeat her idea as his own a few minutes later.
Normally, she would’ve known better than to insert herself in alpha business, but for some reason she’d felt compelled to test these men. She certainly wasn’t surprised they failed, but she was surprised by the pang of disappointment it gave her. This was the world as she expected it to be.
She had never planned to like her mates, just to outlast them. Then she’d be rich and free and alone. That was the life she dreamed of. Bianca enjoyed her own company. She’d enjoy it even more when she could do as she pleased with herself.
Rich. Free. Alone.
That was her choice. It was the best option. The only option.
Aside from her dinner date, Bianca spent a lot of time in her room with only Lilith for company, the python draped around her shoulders watching curiously while she tried to read, watch British murder mysteries, and throw herself into the details of an upcoming fundraiser.
This year, Bonnycastle Charities’ spring event was a masquerade ball with a dark fantasy theme.
Bianca had wanted to throw such a ball for years, and it felt perfect for her final season as the face of the charity.
Annoyingly, she had a hard time focusing on any of those things, because her brain insisted on torturing her with thoughts of Daniel’s eyes and Dante’s hands. Callum’s laugh and King’s growl. A thousand stupid, meaningless moments that somehow added up to one cataclysmic revelation.
Bianca didn’t reply to Callum until Tuesday evening, begging off at the last moment with the excuse of a forgotten engagement.
He accepted the excuse easily, since he knew all about the private gatherings of the city’s elite omegas.
Bianca turned off her phone before she could see whether he’d try and reschedule their date.
Or hangout. Or whatever the kids called it when it wasn’t a date, and you were just acquaintances, and not even friends.
Bianca was relieved she had a reasonable excuse to avoid Callum, even though she was dreading the monthly brunch even more than usual.
The last thing she wanted to do was make surface level conversation and trade barbs with the city’s other boring omega socialites.
Still, it sounded easier than facing the new friend-type-person she’d recklessly grinded against in a non-friendly way during their very first hangout.
At least she knew exactly what to expect from the brunch bitches. As she walked into the country club with its familiar pristine aesthetic and officious staff, she felt right at home. Well…not at home, but at least in charted territory.
The wealthy omegas gathered in the club’s lush formal dining room were all much like her.
They had the same goals and familial expectations.
They wanted the same things out of life: rich alphas, money, and power.
They saw her for what she was, which was the kind of woman who did brunch at the country club, not drinks at the night club.
What had that redheaded beta bartender told Dante? I can offer you something much more exciting.
Bianca couldn’t offer that. She was not exciting. She was careful and cunning and dull. Just like all the other omegas slamming back mimosas and pretending they weren’t bored out of their fucking minds.
Bianca wasn’t close to any of them. She couldn’t name even one person in the room that she actually liked, and she imagined the feeling was mutual. The monthly brunch was simply an opportunity to show off, trade polite insults, and gossip.
Why did she even bother?
Before Callum and Pack King, Bianca didn’t ask herself such questions.
She just came to these events because she was supposed to.
This is what the omegas in her social circle did.
An invitation to this club was a coveted status symbol and she’d been a part of the group since she came of age. She’d basically been born into it.
So how was it that she couldn’t call any of the few dozen omegas in the room her friends?
How was it that she never sought their company, or they hers, outside of this brunch and similar events?
What did she know about them aside from their net worths, their pet projects, and their potential conquests?
A perfectly manicured hand caught her attention, and Bianca realized she’d been hovering near the door, rather than joining one of the groups she cycled through sitting with at these things.
Alicia Taylor-Berry Bertram was waving her over, her bright green eyes alight with malicious interest. Bianca saw the beauty influencer’s gaze flick past her and knew she was clocking Daniel’s presence.
He’d been trailing her silently but had already informed her that once he “cased” the room, he’d take up a position just outside and check on her occasionally.
It was part of Pack King’s promise to be as unobtrusive as possible.
As if a man the size of a hippopotamus could be unobtrusive.
Bianca made her way to Alicia’s table. She greeted the other handful of omegas seated there before taking an empty chair beside the beauty influencer.
Alicia’s scent had changed of late, reflecting the less-than-pleasant licorice undertones of her mates.
Bianca had liked it better before. The two women had spent a little extra time together back when they were both on Pack Rhodes’s shortlist. Bianca had allied with Alicia against Serenity, but neither had ever forgotten they were rivals for the same position. Unfortunately, they’d both lost.
“Bianca! You missed it! Alicia was just showing us pictures of her redecorated nest. It looks like her mates bought out Nichoir,” exclaimed Rosalie Hawthorne, a snooty omega rumored to have been rejected by two packs before an arranged mating with an Argentinian royal of some sort.
“You have to see the gorgeous pillow set she chose.”
“They’re so perfect, Alicia! I saw a set like it in Roost that I was thinking of getting,” Dawn Fairmount gushed. Dawn was the daughter of a major manufacturing family, unmated, and notoriously na?ve. “I’d have to put them in storage for now, but I figure it doesn’t hurt to plan ahead.”
“I’m sure it wasn’t that similar. I mean, Roost isn’t exactly high-end. But to each her own, of course,” Alicia replied with a syrupy smile.
Dawn’s face fell, and she dropped her gaze to her hands.
Bianca felt an uncharacteristic twinge of sympathy.
Usually, she found Dawn’s naivete vexing and had no patience for her childish chatter.
Today, however, Alicia’s mean girl behavior rubbed her the wrong way and felt unnecessarily cruel. Like kicking a three-legged puppy.