Page 95 of Alpha-Ex Wedding Ruse
He smirked. “Oh, so it’s Luca now? What happened to calling me your client, the groom—all those neat little titles you like to hide behind?”
“You are my client,” I said coldly. “And the groom of the wedding I’m planning. A wedding that’s happening in two weeks, in case you’ve forgotten. Shouldn’t you be focusing on that instead of sticking your arrogant nose into things that don’t concern you?”
The smirk vanished. Just like that, his entire body stilled. The temperature in the room dropped.
Gone was the teasing edge. What stared back at me now was enough to knock the breath out of my lungs—tight-jawed, coiled like a predator mid-hunt. My wolf stilled.
Good.
I hadn’t come here to joke with him. He’d crossed a line. A big one. And he needed to remember that client relationships didn’t involve buying houses and clearing debts.
“My father’s realtor called this morning,” I said, pushing the words between gritted teeth. “Told me my father’s house was purchased. Under my name. And guess who signed the check?”
I stared at him, waiting for an answer. Expecting some kind of explanation. But his face stayed maddeningly unreadable—steady, unmoved, like this was just another business meeting on his calendar.
I went on. “As if that’s not enough, I just came from the Syndicate, and they told me my debt’s been cleared. And by they, I mean Blaze—the same man you punched in the park and would’ve beaten to a pulpif I hadn’t stopped you.” I raised an eyebrow. “I’m guessing the broken nose is also your handiwork?”
Luca’s jaw clenched, his eyes darkening with something feral. “Did he touch you?”
“Oh my God, Luca.” I flung my hands into the air. “That’s not the point!”
“No? Then what is the point?” His tone was sharp. “Because if he so much as looked at you wrong, I didn’t do enough.”
“It’s not your job to insert yourself into my life and fix my problems like you still have that right!”
“Insert myself in your life?” His chair creaked as he leaned forward, eyes burning into mine. “I am in your life, Leila. For fuck’s sake—I’m your Mate.”
“Ex-Mate,” I shot back instantly. “In case you’ve forgotten, you rejected me. You don’t get to play the protective Mate card now. You don’t get to swoop in and act like it still means something.” I pointed to him. “You lost every right to me the moment you turned your back on us. And the five years that have passed don’t undo that.”
His expression didn’t flicker. “But nothing has changed.” His voice had gone quiet now. “You know it. You feel it. Every time you look at me, every time I walk into a room, your body remembers what your mouth tries to deny.”
I straightened, my spine stiff with defiance, refusing to let the trembling inside me show. “I didn’t come here to argue with you, Luca. The only reason we’re even speaking is because of your wedding. And once it’s over, I don’t want anything tying me to you. I don’t want to owe you anything. So, I’m going to pay you back. Every cent.”
He laughed. “You’re going to pay me back half a million dollars?”
I froze. Half a million?
Five hundred grand? I’d need at least three years, a miracle, and probably a black-market organ sale to make that kind of money. And Luca had just thrown it out there like it was a ten-dollar bill. Even ten dollars were precious to me right now. I counted coins before grocery runs. I budgeted toothpaste.
The knot in my throat swelled and tightened. My lips parted, but nothing came out.
“Yeah. That’s what your debt cost me. Five hundred grand. And I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”
God, he was so infuriating. So maddeningly calm in his ruthlessness, in the way he wielded power and control like a weapon.
I tried to remain composed. “We can reach a financial agreement. Weekly payments, monthly payments? I’m going to pay you back every single penny.”
He smirked. “I thought you didn’t want to see me after the next two weeks? It’s going to take you years to pay back five hundred grand.”
My chest tightened. My pride wanted to snap back, but my stomach was already sinking. Because he was right.
“But I have a better idea.” He pulled open one of the drawers of his desk and brought out a brown folder I recognized—the same one he’d brought to my house the other day when I found him playing with LEGOs with Ollie.
“Oh, hell no,” I said, already knowing what was coming.
He ignored me. “There’s the Alpha’s Grand Summit in exactly a week from now. The Alpha Regent is building a new headquarters in Brooklyn, and he intends to offer the multi-million dollar contract to the person with the best pitch. He wants a combination of technology, modernization, and heart. If there’s anyone I know who can bring all three together and deliver an excellent design, it’s you, Leila.”
Was I supposed to feel flattered?
