Page 5 of Alpha-Ex Wedding Ruse
My jaw clenched as my eyes flicked to my wristwatch. I’ve never had much patience for waiting. Not since I spent months waiting for a woman who never came back.
As if on cue, the door opened and he walked in.
“Sorry, I’m late,” he said without the slightest hint of remorse in hisvoice. My expression was neutral as I stood to shake his hand. My grip was firm, a silent warning that I wouldn’t tolerate another power play.
“My daughter had to introduce me to the wedding events planner,” he added, his steel-gray eyes fixed on me with that calculating stiffness of a predator, gauging my reaction.
I wasn’t sure what reaction he was looking for. Or what, exactly, I was supposed to react to. His daughter introduced him to her—our—wedding event planner? So what? I’d come here for far more important things.
“Yes,” I said coolly. “Elena and I talked about her hiring someone early. She wants everything to be perfect.”
Talked, of course, meaning she mentioned it, and I nodded. Just like I always did when she brought up the wedding plans.
Alpha Sterling gave a small huff as he settled into the high-backed leather chair on the other end of the table across from me.
“I’ve only got about forty minutes before my board meeting. Let’s not waste them.”
“Straight to business.” He chuckled dryly, steepling his fingers as he reached for a remote on the mahogany conference table. “That’s what I appreciate about your generation. So efficient. So…eager.”
I smiled, but it was devoid of any humor. “Efficiency is why Vaughn Industries is leading the tech scene in New York.”
The way his lips thinned told me everything. I was too confident for his liking. But when you’re trying to close a million-dollar deal with a man like Sterling Moreau, confidence isn’t enough. You need arrogance.
He thought he held the upper hand, and to be fair, he did. Getting engaged to his daughter was proof enough that I wanted this. Because God knows, I wasn’t interested in marriage. Or any woman at all. Not anymore. Not after her. Not after I let her in deeper than anyone, only to watch her lie with the same mouth that once called me hers.
Alpha Sterling hit a button on the remote, and the screen beside us flickered on. I turned my chair to face it as cold blue light filled the room.
A smooth, glassy crystal filled the screen. It looked like a mixbetween a gem and a circuit. Small as it was, it was built to power an entire city. To make a city think for itself.
LUNA-tech. That’s what he had named it. A game changer.
Moreau Industries owned the prototype, the research, the blueprints, and the patent for the LUNA-tech. He had it. Which made him the hotcake. An arrogant one, at that.
But we had the tech. We were one of the few companies capable of mass producing, integrating, and stabilizing it for global use, especially for the Alpha Regent’s Smart Hub District.
In New York, wolf shifters didn’t just coexist with humans; we governed beside them. Each city operated as its own clan, eight in total, each ruled by an Alpha, but all of us answered to the Alpha Regent, the head of all packs in the state. The title wasn’t inherited. It was earned through elections, deals, and sometimes blood.
The Bronx and Manhattan were the crown jewels, offering wealth, influence, and population. Manhattan had the tech. The Bronx had the territory. Together, we controlled more than half of New York’s trade routes and Smart Hubs. That made us the power center, and I planned to use it. If I played my cards right, Vaughn Industries wouldn’t just win the mega contract. I’d win the Regent’s backing when it came time to name the next Alpha Regent.
But before all that, I needed to become Alpha. And to do that, I needed a wife.
Sterling Moreau didn’t trust me with his crown jewel. Not without assurance. And marriage was the best bet. Both the Bronx and Manhattan Packs still believed in the sanctity of a union.
As my father had been reminding me for the past six months, “My time as Alpha of the Manhattan pack is running out. You’re ready in every way but one—you need a wife. A Luna. Only then will the council name you Alpha.
It was ironic. I had to build a family to gain a title—when mine fell apart before I could even understand what it meant.
If I was going to enter a marriage—loveless and largely political, then the candidate had to offer something tangible. Someone like Elena Moreau, daughter of the Alpha of the Bronx Pack.
“The prototype’s passed all stress trials,” he said, tapping a file on the table and sliding it toward me.
I caught it with one finger, flipped it open.
“I already got two offers for its exclusivity,” he added. “You’re late to the party, Vaughn.”
“I never show up early to a party I plan to buy out.” I lifted my eyes from the file. “Besides, I’m the one marrying your daughter, aren’t I?”
Alpha Sterling grimaced. “I’ll listen to whatever offer you’ve got, Vaughn. But I’m not making a decision until the marriage is finalized.”
