Page 13 of A Promise of Forever
"What are their backgrounds?" I ask, settling into the chair across from my desk.
Thea reaches around Caelan and pulls up the profiles on the tablet. "Malcolm Chen, twenty-three, Alpha, trained in mixed martial arts since childhood. Parents died in a car accident, needs money for his sister's medical bills. Desperate enough to be reliable, skilled enough to be profitable."
I nod, gesturing for her to continue to the next one.
"Elena Rodriguez, twenty-five, former professional boxer who lost her license over a doping scandal, Valla." Thea continues. "She's clean now, but her reputation is shot in legitimate circles. Looking for a way back into competitive fighting."
"And the transfer from Seattle?" I ask, though I'm only half-listening.
"James Okafor, twenty-eight, Alpha, heavyweight with an impressive knockout record," Lorcan answers. "Had some trouble with the organization up north, nothing that reflects on his fighting ability. They're willing to let him go if we can use him."
The business discussion continues for another twenty minutes, covering logistics and financial projections that normally would have my full attention. I manage to nod and hum at all the right moments, Caelan holding back a laugh when he catches me looking up at the ceiling wondering if Sterling has moved from where I left him.
Sterling
I spend my first full day in Forrest's house like a ghost, creeping through rooms when I think no one is looking. It’s how I spent most of my time with Wilson and my other Alpha’s too, hiding away from sight, hoping they’d forget I’d exist. However, here, I almost want Forrest to notice I left my room, to come find me, to come ask if I need something.
He hasn’t and it kind of bothers me but I just keep wandering, careful not to touch anything because it all looks like it belongs in a museum. I'm terrified of touching anything that might break or leave fingerprints.
I wind around another hallway, frustrated at how endless it all seems. The tiles stretch forever and the million rooms feel like they’re multiplying. I don’t even know the purpose of most of them. There’s a library with books that reach to the ceiling, a dining room with a table that could seat twenty people, and what looks like a formal sitting room with furniture so pristine I wonder if anyone has ever actually sat on it.
The farther I move from my room, the less lived in the place seems. There’s no dust but it feels… unloved. Dark and gloomy and…empty.I catch glimpses of staff, a mixture of Alphas and Betas and the occasional Omega but no one talks to me. It’s just like what Forrest said—that I’m off limits, that no one will touch me without my permission.
I continue to explore, running my fingers along the expensive trim, trying to imagine what any sane person could want with a place like this. Forrest doesn’t seem vain like Wilson does, almost like this was handed down but I don’t know why he would keep it. It’s just so… much. I huff out a small breath as I turn yet another corner, confused by how still everything is here.
And then I catch a glimpse of Forrest by the front door in the massive front room. I don’t remember any of that when he brought me through here yesterday but they all lookreallyscary. Several Valla and Alphas. A few Betas. Men and women, several of them with tattoos and piercings that scream stories far darker than Wilson.
They all move so fluidly, like predators, like the very men I’ve been running from for the past several years of my life. If these are Forrest's people, part of whatever criminal empire he's built, then I’ve just stepped into a different nightmare. Maybe a worse one.
I creep closer, trying to get a better look as Forrest’s coconut and rum scent fills my nose. My instincts urge me to run toward my protector but my feet are planted firm on the tiled floor,panic keeping me frozen. Each and every one of his guests bow their heads toward him, his reverence demanding respect.
Fuck.
“I’m glad you all could make it,” Forrest’s voice cuts through their murmurs, his lower register silencing them immediately. The power in his tone draws a whimper from me and I slap a hand over my mouth when several heads turn in my direction. Forrest’s dark eyes seem to meet mine even though I know he can’t see me from where I am before he continues speaking.
My heart in my chest, I slip into the adjacent room and shut the door behind me, pressing my back against the wood. The room is clearly Forrest's private study, his scent so much richer in here—a factor that helps calm my fraying nerves.I’m so fucked.I should have just kept running last night. I should have never thought finding a bigger bad would save me from Wilson. There’s no telling what Forrest will do to me.
Tears spring to my eyes as I search for an exit out of this room. There has to be one. There’s always a second or third door in these places but the fear that one of those Alphas or Valla will find me sends a shiver down my spine, my fingers starting to shake. I swallow nervously as I feel along the wall, my panic kicking up a notch as voices creep closer to the door.
If they come in here, I'll be caught, and then I'll have to explain why I was hiding and listening to their private conversations. Forrest will probably throw me out for being nosy and ungrateful.
Desperate, I look around for somewhere to hide. A closet is too obvious, and there's nowhere behind the furniture that would actually conceal me. But the scent is strongest near the desk, concentrated in the space where Forrest's chair sits, and without thinking, I slide underneath. Just like I did last night.
The space beneath the desk is cramped but oddly comforting, surrounded by the rich leather scent of expensive furniture andthe lingering warmth of Forrest's presence. I curl up as small as possible, trying to control my breathing and hoping desperately that no one will think to look for me here. Because, of course, they won’t just fucking find me from my scent.
The rational part of my brain knows that this is a stupid idea.
But the other part? The Omega part? The terrified part? That part just wants to curl up and make it all go away.
The door opens, and I hold my breath as footsteps enter the room.
"Excuse me," Forrest's voice says, clearly addressing someone in the hallway.
I freeze completely, every muscle in my body locked with terror. He's going to find me here, hiding under his desk and then he’s going to be furious that I invaded his private space. Forrest said I could explore but I know he didn’t mean it like this. I shudder as a sob rattles through me, my scent spiking into something a bit more twisted and burnt.
Instead of searching the room, Forrest simply walks to his desk and sits down in his chair. The leather creaks as he settles, and suddenly he's right above me, close enough that I can smell the soap he uses and hear the slight adjustment of his silk pants sliding across the chair.
A moment passes in silence and then he looks down. Our eyes meet through the shadows under the desk, his dark gaze finding mine with an expression I can't read. I just stare back at him, my fingers digging into my cheeks as I violently try not to cry, waiting for the moment he raises his hand to me or drags me out into the open and makes an example in front of his friends.
