Page 48 of The Alpha's Uncovered Mate

Adam doesn't own a flashy car. He's got a Bentley whereas Norman owns a fleet of flashy colorful cars. Since he's the Alpha's son, he believes he should always have the best of the best.

"Is this your only car?" I ask.

Adam gives me a surprised look. "Of course. Do you want your own?"

The way he so casually asks that, as if he will get me a car if I simply ask for one, makes my nails dig into my arm. Nobody has ever offered me anything on a platter before, and to have it done so makes me anxious. It makes me wary and doubtful of his intentions.

"I wasn't asking for myself." I look out the window, feeling uneasy. "I just meant that Norman has a lot of cars."

Adam makes a displeased sound. "All those cars have come from the pack's budget."

I turn my head to look at him, taken aback. "How can you say that for sure?"

He gives me a grim smile. "Alphas are allowed to have a certain amount in their banks. Any company owned by them, the profits from those companies are deposited in the pack budget.Alphas exist for the pack. Their house belongs to the pack, as do their earnings. It's to ensure that whoever steps into the alpha position doesn't get greedy for power. I'm not surprised my father managed to figure out a loophole. He must be paying Norman a massive salary. How much did you get paid, though?"

"Nothing."

The confession is out of my mouth before I can stop myself, and Adam screeches the car to a halt. He turns to face me. "Excuse me?"

He's staring at me, and I feel foolish. "I meant… It was a joke––"

"No, it wasn't," he says, his voice hard. "Stop lying to me. In all these years you worked for KDL Foods, you never saw a penny?"

The wriggle room out of this situation is growing narrower by the second. "Well, I kind of didn't need the money because, you know, Jonathon pays for everything, including my apartment and groceries, and what would I do with––"

"Everyone needs money, Cynthia," Adam says, his tone angry for some reason. Why is he angry? Why does he even care?

He stares at me when I say nothing, and then he looks away, staring out the front of the car, as if deep in thought. After a few minutes of tense silence, he asks, slowly, "Do you have a bank account?"

"No."

"So, where am I going to deposit your salary?"

"Jonathon will make one for––"

"I'm not giving your hard-earned money to my father!" he snarls, slamming his hand on the steering wheel, enraged.

I fall silent, frozen in place. Is his anger going to turn into violence? Will that violence turn to me?

"You can keep it," I say hurriedly, wanting this conversation over with. "I don't mind."

My words have his head whipping toward me, his expression twisted in an emotion I don't recognize.

"Keep it?" he asks in a soft whisper. "You want to work for me, and then all the time and blood and sweat that you put into my company, I should take that money from you and keep it?"

"I-If you want." I try to shrug, hiding the way my hands are shaking. "I'll talk to Jonathon and––"

"I don't want that," he snaps at me. He looks so angry I'm beginning to wonder if I should exit the car.

"I don't understand how you are okay with this," he suddenly says. "You've worked at KDL Foods for a very long time, close to a decade, or even more. I know. I looked up your resume online. But all this time, you've not been paid anything, and it doesn't bother you. How does it not bother you? It pisses me off!"

I open my mouth to say it does bother me, that it's not fair and I wanted my money. However, I end up pressing my lips together.

My silence seems to annoy him even more. "You know, everything I've heard about you since I've met you has been awe-worthy. You've been described as fierce in the boardroom, one of KDL Foods' prized negotiators, and quick on your feet every time the company has faced a problem. So why is it that you can'tstand up for yourself? Are all those stories made up? Have you been a coward this whole time, letting my father exploit you?"

"You shouldn't talk about things you don't understand." I feel a stirring of anger inside me now. "You don't know anything, so maybe you should butt out."

"I would know if you'd tell me," Adam growls.

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