Chapter 52
Revea
It’s been three weeks since my heat. Three weeks since my declaration post went more viral than the initial footage.
For a while, the crowd got bigger, the paparazzi louder.
Headlines turned me into either a symbol or a scandal.
Thankfully, my alpha’s business is fine.
Seems the security world doesn’t care about who the alpha CEOs are courting.
Typical.
But now, everything is finally dying down and returning to some sense of normalcy. At least at the salon. The fake clients have been flushed out, and I have more time to focus on the things I love: hair, training, teaching, and my pack.
Because I’m still living at their house.
Temporarily.
Since my home address was leaked, even after Steve moved out early, it would never be safe to return. I spent time looking at some cute two-bed houses, several flats, and even arranged some viewings. But I never went to a single one, because it seems Sylvan moonlights as a structural engineer.
The roof of the first house was in ‘disrepair’, and the other could have asbestos. A background check into one landlord highlighted a financial irregularity that could be fraud. Another building had outdated fire suppression.
Apparently, nowhere in the entire city, or even a few miles outside it, meets his standards.
So I’m still here. Temporarily. That word is doing an awful lot of heavy lifting, and it has been… perfect.
We spend the mornings laughing over breakfast, the evenings winding down from work, and every night has been spent in the nest.
Together.
Even though we’re together every day, it still took a monologue to convince them I don’t need all four at the salon. Now we’re back to Gary and Max. With a minimum of one of my alphas. Often two. With more visiting throughout the day.
It’s just until the crowd fully leaves.
Temporary.
It’s easier to call it temporary than admit how quickly they’ve become part of everything. And how much I love that.
Now it’s early evening, I’m sitting in my designated spot on the paved edge of the lush garden, in an oversized chair Sylvan specifically ordered for me.
It rests on the area just outside the gym, by the glass bifolding doors, with a view of the surrounding forest. But I’m not looking at the forest. With my laptop on my lap, my focus drifts over the screen to the four shirtless, sweaty, grunting alphas who are literally heavy lifting.
When Val releases a grunt that’s almost a whimper, my grip tightens on the laptop. Focus.
I drag my eyes back to the screen, and there it is.
Five-Year Plan (Master Copy)
Colour-coded, detailed, everything meticulously planned. I scroll through, skimming my expansion goals, predicted profits, brand partnerships, international conventions.
I glance over the convention list again.
Paris. Milan. Tokyo.
My fingers hover in thought, then I add a new column, type, copy, paste, and save.
Five years suddenly doesn’t look like something I’m building alone anymore. And for the first time, I don’t feel weaker for that.
I shift back in my chair, exhaling slowly, then open my emails, smiling.
“What’s that look for?” Luc smirks, walking out from the gym, topless, a sheen of sweat glazing his tanned skin and hard muscles.
“Nothing.” I shrug, but my heart races. “Just making some changes.”