Page 14 of The Alpha's Crimson Vow

I can’t help but smile at his words. It’s small, but genuine, and I tilt my head slightly as I reply. “Oh, and Alex,” I say, feeling a touch of lightness creep into my voice, “you can call me Katherine. Especially when…”

“…we’re in character,” he finishes for me, a spark of enthusiasm lighting up his eyes. “I’ll make sure not to do that while I’m just me, though. At work, I mean.”

I nod, grateful for his natural understanding of the boundaries, but a thought comes to me immediately. “About that,” I add, my tone turning thoughtful. “You won’t have to keep working as a janitor anymore. I can find another role for you within the company.”

The change in his expression is immediate. His smile fades, replaced by a faint frown as he sits up straighter. “But I like my job,” he says simply, his voice firm.

I blink, momentarily thrown off. “Oh…” The word slips out before I can stop it, and for a second, I’m not sure what to say.

He seems to notice my hesitation and presses on. “I enjoy it, especially working at night. It’s peaceful. I’d really prefer tokeep doing it. But don’t worry—I won’t do anything to make people suspicious. Outside of work, I’ll switch into character, no problem. Is that okay?” His tone is earnest, his eyes locked on mine, as if he genuinely cares about making this arrangement work.

I feel a slow smile tug at my lips. “I think we have a deal,” I say.

He nods slowly and glances at me with a small look of approval. Without hesitation, he clicks the pen in his hand and leans over the desk, signing his name with a confident flourish. Once he’s done, he slides the contract back to me, and I rise instinctively from my chair.

He mirrors the motion, standing to his full height. The moment he does, his presence feels larger than life, his broad shoulders and tall frame making me feel unusually small. I tilt my head up, meeting his gaze, and he tilts his downward to meet mine.

I extend my hand, my voice steady and sincere. “Thank you for doing this, Alex.”

His large hand clasps mine in a firm handshake. “Of course, Katherine.”

The way he says my name—soft, almost possessively—sends an unexpected ripple through me. It feels… different. Like he’s been calling me that all along, like he has always supposed to call me that.

The handshake lingers, far longer than it should, but neither of us seems eager to let go. There’s something grounding about the contact, something I don’t have the words for passing between us.

“You know,” he says, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth, “if we’re going to make this convincing, I think we’re going to need a little more than just handshakes. Especially at public events.”

His words catch me off guard, and I feel heat creeping up my neck and settling in my cheeks. “I… I have to get to work now,” I manage, my voice quieter than I’d intended as I force myself to break eye contact.

“Of course,” he replies easily, his tone light as he steps toward the door. He pauses just before leaving, glancing back over his shoulder. “Dinner here again tonight?” His voice is warm, the question laced with genuineness, as if he wants to make sure that this new dynamic will not stop us from having our friendly late night conversations over pizza or pasta or ramen, or whatever we come up with.

I look at him, the faintest hint of a smile on my lips. “Yes. Definitely.”

He nods again, flashing me that same knowing, approving look. It’s a strange expression, one that radiates a quiet authority, as if he’s always in control. “Perfect,” he says, his voice steady and sure.

And just like that, he’s gone, the door clicking shut behind him.

The day flows by like a breeze. My fingers dance over the keyboard, efficient as ever, but there’s something lighter about the air today. I feel it in the bounce of my step when I move around the office, in the way my lips tug into a small smile for no particular reason. Heck, I even catch myself humming at one point—some random tune I don’t recognize—and I don’t stop.

I can’t remember the last time I had a workday like this. It’s productive, sure—every report filed, every task checked off—but there’s an energy underneath it all, like a hidden spring bubbling just beneath the surface.

By the time evening starts to creep in, with the warm orange of dusk spilling through my office window, I’m still riding the wave. I glance outside, watching as the golden light casts soft shadowsacross the room. The day is winding down, but I know I’ll be here later than anyone else. I always am. Still, tonight will end on a high note—dinner with Alex. Just thinking about it sends a flicker of warmth through me, and I can already imagine the casual banter over whatever food we scrounge up.

I’m pulled from my thoughts by a sharp knock on the door. My eyebrows lift slightly, curiosity piqued. “Yes?” I call out, my voice steady but inquisitive.

The door creaks open, and my curiosity quickly morphs into surprise as he steps in. Uncle Lawrence. I school my expression quickly, pulling my features into something neutral, though my mind races.

What’s he doing here? He rarely comes into my office, especially unannounced.

He lingers by the door at first, his hand still on the knob. “Katherine, may I come in?”

There’s an oddness to the way he asks the question, like it’s not really a question at all. It’s more a statement, as if he already assumes I’ll say yes. I don’t bother hiding my skepticism. “Uncle Lawrence,” I say slowly, leaning back in my chair. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here today.”

He steps further inside, moving deliberately, his polished shoes making faint sounds against the floor. “Yes, well…” His tone is measured, almost overly so. “It’s important that we talk.”

By the time he reaches the chair in front of my desk, he settles into it like a man on a mission. I stay quiet, studying him, the memory of our last interaction playing vividly in my mind. The gala. The way he’d been so eager to shove me aside, to make Frank the center of attention even though I was the rightful speaker. But more than that, I remember his face when I stepped onto that stage anyway, with Alex by my side. The look ofdisappointment etched so clearly on his features. That memory alone is enough to make my mood brighter, even now.

“I hope you enjoyed the gala, Uncle Lawrence,” I say, my lips curving into a faint smirk I don’t bother hiding. There’s a sharp edge of satisfaction in my tone, and I’m not even trying to conceal it.

---