Page 8 of Alpha-Ex Wedding Ruse
Imposingly tall, broad-shouldered, and impossibly perfect in thattailored suit. His dark hair was a little longer than I remembered, and more tousled. But those eyes, those steel gray, soul-scouring eyes were exactly the same. And they were staring right back at me.
There was a flicker. It was barely there, but I caught it—a flash of recognition, of disbelief, and the kind of hate reserved for a traitor. He wasn’t just shocked. He looked at me like betrayal had a face—and it was mine.
And for a moment, neither of us breathed.
After a few months together, I’d started to spot the cracks in his cold, stoic demeanor.
My chest tightened. Heat surged through me like wildfire. Maybe anger, maybe something else. I was betting on the latter, because my skin tingled, like it remembered the way his fingers used to trace my curves.
“Leila,” Elena said sweetly, and I startled slightly, only just realizing she’d been standing there the whole time, like some perfectly manicured ghost in designer heels. I turned toward her slowly.
“Hmm?”
“You mentioned your mother was human and your father was a shifter?” she asked, head tilting like a curious child. But her tone? That wasn’t curiosity. That was curiosity’s meaner, better-dressed cousin.
Of course, she’d latch onto that detail. People always did. Like I’d confessed to having a contagious condition.
I gave her a single nod. “Yes.”
“So that makes you, what? A half blood?” Her nose crinkled, delicate and deliberate, like the words left a bad taste on her tongue. “I don’t think I’ve ever met a half blood before. What’s that like? Do you get half everything—half senses, half shifting, half brain power?”
The smile I gave her was all teeth and zero warmth. “We’re perfectly normal, Elena. But thanks for your concern.”
I made the mistake of looking at him again. I felt my wolf stir inside me, rising to the surface, threatening to reach out and embrace the man standing before us. That angered me. It confused me. Because she should know better. He was the devil we’d danced with once, and that dance left scars.
My confusion stemmed from the memory of his cold rejection, the words that had shattered me. There had been no emotion in his eyes, no hesitation in discarding me like trash. I’d felt the bond tear apart, a pain that was death and agony all at once, as if my very soul was being ripped. That was supposed to be the proof that the bond was dead.
So why the hell did I still feel exactly the same way I did the first time I saw him? Drawn in.
“Well,” Elena said, her upper lip curling like she’d just caught the faintest whiff of something rotten. She edged closer to Luca, practically melting into his side like she was auditioning to become part of his ribcage.
“On your résumé, you mentioned you went to school in Manhattan,” she continued, her voice like polished disdain and silk-covered claws. Her hand moved up to brush a non-existent speck of lint from Luca’s lapel, slow and possessive. “Luca here is the Alpha heir to the Manhattan pack. But I suppose you wouldn’t run in those circles.”
I wanted to shut down that condescending statement by telling her that I did, in fact, used to run in those circles. Five years ago, I hadn’t just been Luca’s employee. Unfortunately, I’d been his lover, too. But I ultimately decided that wasn’t necessary. Having known Luca wasn’t something to brag about, considering he’d shattered me once.
That painful thought jarred me back to the present. Back to the cold, hard fact that I was here to plan a wedding.
And the groom?
My Mate.
Wiping my clammy palm on my skirt, I shoved the chaos into a deep pit inside of me and forced out a smile.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Vaughn.”
When Luca‘s large, warm hands closed around mine, a jolt shot through me—electric, familiar, and utterly forbidden. His grip was firm, possessive. His grip was firm, like he didn’t just want to hold my hand, but keep it. He held on too long. His thumb brushed over my fingers, slow and sure, like he was reminding me I used to be his.
Yanking my hand back, I turned my gaze to Elena. “Would he be joining us for the meeting?”
“I don’t think—”
“Yes.” Luca’s voice cut her off, smooth and sharp.
Then, as though remembering something, he turned to one of the servants in the area. “Make sure Alpha Sterling is informed that I’ll follow up with him later. I’m sure he’ll be delighted to hear I’m joining his daughter’s wedding planning meeting.”
The servant nodded and went away.
He turned to me, his eyes gleaming with that mischief that used to drive me mad.
