I put it face down on the pillow.
My flight leaves in six hours, but for now I’m going to sit here and let my omega be sad for a little while.
She found what she was looking for.
She deserves a minute.
So do I.
7
TOMAS
THREE MONTHS LATER
Numbers obey me. Alphas lie. Omegas tend to cheat.
Today I can't get through a single page.
Jennifer Sullivan has been dismantling my focus for three months.
Her name alone is enough to tighten something low in my gut. Something territorial that I have no interest in examining and even less luck ignoring.
I sit behind my desk in Milan with forty-seven pages of acquisition documents spread open in front of me, and all I can see is an omega in a red dress staring at a roulette wheel like she had nothing left to lose. Beautiful in the dangerous sense.
Soft mouth made for smiling and biting. Dark honey hair pinned up badly enough to invite interference. Curves generous enough to make a patient man forget patience entirely.
Those pins caught my attention first, pretending they could hold that dark honey hair in place.
Then Santos got there before me, sliding them free one by one like he had every right.
Jealousy hit hard and mean, sudden enough to make me want to break his wrist for touching what I wanted.
I flip a page I haven't read.
She'd stood in our suite with the zipper of her dress half down, trying to hold onto dignity while three alphas watched her like starving things, and the moment she understood we weren't judging her, that we were wanting her, the relief in her trace had nearly brought me to my knees. Rose and strawberry, warm and a little bruised, opening up like something that hadn't been tended to in far too long.
I set the papers aside.
The door opens without a knock.
Only one person in this city is that committed to irritating me before noon.
Santos strolls in carrying sunshine and arrogance. Open collar. Tan skin. Gold watch. Ink curling down one forearm. Smirk already assembled.
"You look awful."
"Thanks," I say, not in the mood for any type of conversation. Especially when I can't get one omega off my mind.
He drops into the chair across from my desk and steals the glass of water meant for me.
He studies my face for half a second and grins wider.
"You're thinking about her again."
"And?" I say defensively.
I should deny it. I can't be bothered.