Page 31 of The Alpha's Crimson Vow

The room seems to hold its breath. Frank’s jaw tightens, his teeth visibly gritting. “This is personal,” he snaps. “You’re only doing this to get back at me for calling out your little fling with that janitor!”

The jab hits, but I don’t let it show. I’ve anticipated this, prepared for it. “This isn’t about Alex,” I say evenly, though my voice carries a warning edge. “This is about your theft, your lies, and your utter disregard for this company. You’re lucky I haven’t called the police. Yet.”

Frank’s face flushes red, and for a moment, he looks ready to argue. But I don’t give him the chance. “Leave the building,” I order, my tone final. “Or I’ll have security escort you out.”

The silence stretches as everyone watches, waiting to see if he’ll make a scene. He doesn’t. With a glare that could peel paint,Frank shoves his chair back and storms out of the room, the door slamming behind him.

I stand there for a few seconds, letting the moment settle. No one speaks. Slowly, I gather my files and I leave the boardroom.

As I step into the hallway, the anger inside me simmers, but it’s joined by something else—satisfaction. Frank’s arrogance has finally caught up with him. And now, for the first time in weeks, I feel like I can breathe. Alex won’t have to endure Frank’s taunts anymore, and that alone makes this victory all the sweeter.

This week has been quieter, and I don’t take that for granted. The air in the office feels less tense without Frank’s snide remarks poisoning the atmosphere. Without his constant jabs at Alex, I’ve been able to focus a little better, breathe a little easier.

But there have been... odd moments.

Like earlier this week, when I slipped on a random puddle of water on the staircase. It came out of nowhere—I didn’t even notice the puddle until my heel betrayed me, and I felt myself tilt backward. My stomach clenched as gravity took over, but before I could hit the ground, Alex’s hand shot out and caught me.

Then there was yesterday. I was walking past one of the large decorative paintings in the corridor when, without warning, it came crashing off the wall. The sound of the frame hitting the ground was sharp, almost deafening, but it never hit me. Alex had yanked me out of its path in the split second before it could.

They’re just random mishaps, sure. Nothing to read into. But Alex doesn’t seem to think so. He hasn’t said much about it, but I can see the worry etched on his face. It’s in the way his eyes scan the surroundings whenever I’m near, like he’s expecting something else to go wrong. It’s in the way he lingers just a little longer in a room after I’ve left, as if he’s double-checking something.

And it’s heartwarming, really. I don’t think he even realizes how protective he’s being. Sometimes he acts like a guard dog, always scanning around and watching for danger.

But today is Friday, and for once, I’m looking forward to being out of the office. Alex has started staying over at my place on the weekends, and I find myself counting down the hours to when we can both just be—no board meetings, no passive-aggressive encounters, no distractions.

When the workday ends, I slip into my coat and grab my bag, dialing Alex’s number as I head for the elevator.

“Hey,” I say when he picks up. “Meet me in the parking lot?”

“Already on my way,” he replies, and I can hear the faint hum of movement in the background.

I hang up, the anticipation of the weekend bubbling in my chest.

The parking lot is quiet, the rows of cars glinting under the waning sunlight. I lean against my car, the cool metal steadying me as I wait.

When Alex appears, my breath catches.

He’s wearing a crisp white button up shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing strong, tanned forearms that flex with every movement. His jeans hang low on his hips.

“On chauffeur duties today?” he quips as he takes the keys from my hand, his fingers brushing mine.

The warmth lingers, but I manage a small laugh as I slide into the passenger seat.

The drive is smooth, the cityscape blurring past the windows as Alex navigates the streets with practiced ease. I can’t stop myself from watching him out of the corner of my eye; the way his hands grip the wheel, firm and steady, the way the muscles in his forearms flex as he turns, the way his profile looks impossibly perfect in the golden light of the setting sun.

I swallow hard, trying to banish the thoughts swirling in my mind.

I open my mouth to say something—anything, really. Anything to keep my brain occupied, to distract from the thoughts this gorgeous man is causing me to have. But before the words even form, something catches my attention out of the corner of my eye.

A car.

It’s not just driving, though. It’s moving. Fast. Too fast. My stomach tightens as the sleek, black jeep zooms up behind us, overtaking other cars like they’re standing still. It’s rugged and dark, built like a predator on wheels. And then it pulls level with us, right alongside, as though this isn’t some random coincidence. As though it’s watching.

The jeep tilts slightly, a sharp, jerky movement, like whoever’s behind the wheel is adjusting their grip. Then it evens out, maintaining an unsettlingly steady pace, its hulking frame riding just a hair too close to our own car.

Something’s wrong.

My pulse starts to race, my chest tightening with a mix of confusion and unease.

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