Page 82 of Laurels and Liquor

Diane startles, not having noticed him previously, and then narrows her eyes at my beta, and I feel his amusement and vindication across the room. So he noticed her thinly veiled attempt to order her daughter around, too. One last glance over Samuel Sr.’s shoulder at Mateo, and it only takes a look for him to understand the shift in the room. I’ve seen enough, and it’s time to get down to business. He gives me a nod, settling to lean against the wall near the door. He’s stepping back and letting me assume the lead, an eager grin on his face as he settles in for the show.

Taking that as my cue, I walk away from Samuel, and over to the dining room table, pulling Lydia with me. Before anyone can stop me, I sit at the head of the table, my back to the patio doors as I guide Lydia to sit in the chair to my right. It’s a bit truculent, but the look on Samuel’s face is worth it. He looks at Rhett, confusion and shock pulling his jaw slack, but Rhett just smirks and moves to the seat on my other side, making himself comfortable. Jason sits on Lydia’s other side, unbuttoning his blazer as he sighs. When Samuel looks back to me again, his face grows steadily redder with each tick of the hall clock. Lucas appears at my shoulder, the heavy tray balanced expertly on one arm, a tall glass of lemonade extended to me. I take it and sip gently, maintaining eye contact with Samuel, who is still frozen in place where I left him.

“I’m sorry, where are my manners? My name is Alexandra St. Clair, Prime Alpha of Pack St. Clair.”

Chapter forty-two

Mateo

Lex’sintroductionhangsinthe air like a penny, wheeling and turning until it finally pings to the ground. Her family name and their reputation, as well as her own, have preceded her, it seems. Most of his letters were only addressed to the “Prime Alpha of Pack Saint Clair” so he may not have realized our leader is, in fact, a woman. Ally mutters something about going to have a lie down, and her husband escorts her out hastily, leaving a silence about as pregnant as she is behind. Samuel Sr. clears his throat, shifting his weight, like he can’t decide if he should go shake her hand or demand she get out of his chair.

There’s nothing like watching my Lex totally emasculate an alpha in fifteen words or less. I may have to take her somewhere quiet on the plane home and show her how much I appreciate her.

“Yes, well, hmm. Ms. St. Clair, I’m—”

“Samuel Anderson Sr., my omega’s father and previous Prime Alpha. I’m very aware of who you are, sir,” Lex interjects icily.

I press my lips together and try to think of The Loneliest Whale to keep a straight face, and soft cock. It becomes infinitely harder to remain serious as Samuel flushes red and plops down in the chair at the opposite end of the table from Lex. It’s a bold move for Lex to take the seat of power away from a man, an alpha, in his own home. But my prime alpha has never been anything but bold. And watching her settle into the wooden chair like it’s a golden throne, it strikes me like a bolt out of the blue at how much she’s changed since we met. This imperious woman more than earned her nickname from me when we first started working together, but the Ice Queen has melted away in recent months. Seeing her slip back behind the mask is almost disconcerting, only helped by the hand she keeps clasped with Lydia’s over the table.

Diane scampers over, sitting at her husband’s right hand, not that he acknowledges her. Lucas finishes passing out glasses of lemonade, not spilling a drop despite the questionable integrity of the tray he’s balancing. Lydia’s eyes track him as he moves, and I can feel the spark of her arousal in my lower belly. Not that I can blame her. Lucas’s muscles pull tantalizingly at his black button-down as he moves with practiced ease around the table and back to the kitchen island. And like the menace he is, he hops up to sit on the island counter, perched perfectly in Diane’s line of sight. I can’t see her face from where I’m standing by the foot of the stairs, but her shoulders tense, rising steadily toward her ears. Good. It’s about time someone got under her skin like she’s gotten under ours.

“Regarding your demands, I’ve had a chance to review them with Lydia and we have some questions,” Lex starts, pulling my attention back to her.

“They aren’t demands,” Samuel counters, but he doesn’t sound all that convincing.

“Strongly worded requests, then. However you want to split that hair. In any case, I have to ask: how did you arrive at the sum for the dowry?” she continues, leveling a hard stare at him that I’ve seen rattle lesser men to their core.

“Our lawyer advised that it’s fair,” Diane snaps.

I can only see the back of Samuel Sr., but there’s a distinct tensing of his shoulders as his wife speaks in his place. Even still, he doesn’t move to correct her. That tracks with what Jason and Lydia have told us. Samuel Sr. might be an alpha, but Diane Anderson has her mate on a tight leash, using his instinctual need to stand with her and not embarrass her against him in situations exactly like this. To do anything other than give a very short, very tense, nod of agreement would show his omega is going rogue and outside of his control. Which, for a man like that, is a fate worse than death.

It's one-thousand percent horse shit, of course. But that’s his grave to dig. Far be it from me to take away his shovel.

“That wasn’t my question. Because Lydia has pointed out a strange coincidence, but I’d like to hear your explanation,” Lex replies, unruffled.

I have to swallow my growl. Coincidence, my ass. Not when the request they’ve asked for is the precise ending balance of Lydia’s trust on the day the transfer went through, down to the penny.

Samuel shifts backward slightly in his chair, arms crossing over his chest. “It was a complicated equation, taking into account the costs of raising her, her college education, housing, the list goes on. I didn’t get too into the weeds with the specifics—”

“Clearly,” Lex intones sardonically, the single word enough to silence the alpha opposite her.

“I don’t know why it’s so difficult for you to understand that you’re never going to get any part of my trust fund,” Lydia snarls, the words spilling out like she couldn’t keep them back any longer.

Her anger is like a red-hot coal settling behind my heart, and I brush a calming mental finger across our bond. My pride still leaks through, despite my attempt to hold it back. She wants to say more, and she’s doing so well. I don’t know if I could keep my composure if I were in her position. Lydia’s eyes flick to me for an instant, and I feel her returning gratitude. I cross my arms over my chest and lean against the banister, nodding once. Her thumb finds my mating mark through the fabric of her sleeve, and I smile at the phantom touch I swear I can feel under the little lightning bolt tattooed on my wrist.

Diane waves a dismissive hand at her daughter. “This isn’t about your grandmother’s money, Lydia. Our lawyer arrived at that figure based on the hardship we went through getting you into such a prestigious pack—”

Rhett growls low in his throat. “Lydia becoming a member of our pack had nothing to do with you,” he snarls, hands clenching into tight fists over the table.

There’s a collective wave of annoyance across our web of bonds, but my focus is pulled by the shock coming from Lydia. I don’t know if the others feel it, being so worked up and in their own heads, but I stand up straight and watch Lydia’s face closely. She’s staring at her parents like she’s seeing them for the first time. Disbelief wells up in her, and I take a step closer on instinct, but a sharp look from Lex stops me.

“And as far as you getting what you’re ‘owed,’” Lex adds, her voice steady, even as it twists skeptically around that last word, “considering how little you’ve been involved with Lydia’s life over the last five years, the figure you are asking for is out of the question.”

“That wasn’t our choice! Lydia pushed us away, cut off contact, and kept us in the dark about everything. I didn’t even know where my own daughter was, didn’t know if she was alive or dead until—”

“If you could do us a kindness and stop pretendin’ like you gave a shite ’bout your daughter’s well-being, things would go much smoother,” Rhett growls, his accent coming out with his anger.

“A false witness will not go unpunished,and he who speaks lies shall perish,” Jason adds, just loud enough for everyone to hear, even as he picks a piece of invisible lint off his shirt sleeve.

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