Page 59 of Alpha's Unclaimed Mate

I stare at him in disbelief, my nose crinkling. “So, you’re telling me they’re right? That I didn’t deserve this raise?”

William finally looks up, a genuine, infectious laugh bubbling from his chest. His eyes crinkle at the corners as he looks at me with amusement. “Seren, my friend, you’ve earned every penny of it. These last few months you’ve saved us a fortune. Hell, I’d demand forty percent if I were you.”

I manage a small smile, but I’m still seeing red. “I’m filing a formal complaint against them, William. Someone leaked the increment figures, and then they mocked me at the coffee machine.”

William’s expression turns serious. “Good. Get Jack to send over the surveillance footage immediately. We only keep a week’s worth on file. You need proof for this.”

My eyes widen in surprise. I hadn’t even considered that.

As I storm out of William’s office, I head straight to Jack. It’s late Friday afternoon, which means we only have a few hours before the day ends. Twenty minutes later, the email with the damning evidence is on its way to HR.

Exhaustion washes over me as I sink into my chair. My eyes fall on the photo frame by my computer, a silent reminder of why I push myself so hard. I trace the outline of my son’s face with my finger, a pang of longing and guilt piercing through the satisfaction of the day’s victory.

“Leon,” I whisper, pressing a kiss on the glass. “I hope you’re not missing me too much, my little fighter.”

Since I’m only working on confidential cases with the senior partners, I’ve gotten a tiny office to myself. It’s the smallest one in the building, but it’s my sanctuary. And with nothing to pull me back home, I spend long hours here, fueled by my silent promise to myself: that my son will never have to rely on the Blackwoods like I did.

I check my phone to see a message from Ethan.

We’re celebrating tonight. And I’m not taking no for an answer.

I frown. What are we celebrating? I text him right back.I thought the jury was out until Monday for the Myer & Kells case.

His response is as good as no response:LeNoir. 7 p.m. Be there.

Placing the photo frame back on the table, I stare out of the window. Even from the forty-fourth floor, I can see the bright reds and greens speckled all over the street. The restaurants here like to go all-out with their Christmas decorations, as if this is their only reason to make it throughanother year. I’ve stayed indoors as much as possible since Thanksgiving, but maybe a distraction would be good for me.

Fine. I’ll see you then.After shooting off that text, I get back to work.

To avoid the holiday subway crush, I take a cab to LeNoir, arriving five minutes early. Thankfully, LeNoir looks less festive than the rest of the city. I freshen up my lipstick, dab a hint of perfume on my wrists, and step inside.

Ethan gets to his feet the instant he sees me, a large bouquet of wildflowers in hand as the hostess guides me to our table. “You’re looking gorgeous,” he says, pulling me close. His breath is warm, with pleasant a hint of peppermint. He kisses my cheek before handing me the bouquet and pulling out my chair.

“You’re such a gentleman,” I quip as I smell the fresh flowers.

He chuckles. “Is that your way of calling me a catch?”

I shake my head, smiling. “Maybe. Or maybe it’s code for arm candy.” Placing the flowers to the side, I sip the water he’s already poured for us and take in the fancy interior of the restaurant. “So what are we celebrating?”

“I heard you cleaned out the Cushman & Sedgwick coffers this year,” he says, a smirk playing on his lips. “You got a big bonus, right?”

I purse my lips. “Even you know? Great!”

The waitress comes over to ask for our drink choices, and I look at Ethan. I’ve never been much of a drinker, especially since I discovered I was pregnant.

My heart squeezes at the reminder. I wonder what Leon isup to right now. He always preferred an early dinner and a small snack in bed while I read him a story.

Ethan’s warm palm covers mine. “I asked if sparkling wine would be good tonight?”

“Uh…yeah. Sure. Thanks.”

He lets out a little hum. “So, what are you going to do with your windfall?” he asks once the waitress walks away.

“My financial planner suggested some new stock options. Plus, if the money drops into my account on time, I’m thinking maybe a ten percent on Santa Claus rally,” I reply honestly. Ethan is someone I can honestly talk money with, and I value his opinions.

“I don’t think Santa Claus rally is a good idea, but hey, it’s your bonus!” He looks at me with a raised eyebrow. “You know you can spend some of it on yourself, right? If not on a car or a better apartment, which I also think is a waste, why not a holiday?”

I shake my head. “Not at the cost of Leon’s future. I want to make sure he never has to worry about money.”

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