“Sierra? The Knightley Pack is here.” Her voice drops to a whisper. “All of them. Should I call security?”
My heart hammers against my ribs. “No. Send them back.”
I stand up, smoothing my skirt, trying to look like the CEO I am and not the omega who has been sleeping in a nest of scented blankets and Cole’s stolen shirt for three nights.
The door opens.
They file in. They look terrible.
Dax has dark circles under his eyes. Cole’s usual easy grin isgone. Jalen looks like he hasn’t slept in a week, and even Malik’s perfect suit looks a little rumpled.
They don’t rush me. They don’t try to scent me. They stand on the other side of my desk like they’re facing a firing squad.
Malik steps forward. He’s holding a thick file folder. He places it on my desk.
“What is this?” I ask.
“The Sterling wedding,” Malik says.
I freeze. My white whale. The contract they stole. The one that hurt the most.
“We resigned,” Dax says, his voice gravelly. “This morning. We told the Sterling pack that, due to unforeseen scheduling conflicts, we couldn’t give their event the attention it deserved. And we strongly recommended they hire the only planner in the city capable of executing their original vision.”
I stare at the folder. “You... you fired the Sterling pack?”
“We transferred the contract,” Malik corrects. “We already spoke to their lawyers. We returned the deposit. We also transferred the venue hold to your name. And we covered the cancellation fees.”
“Why?” I whisper. “That contract is worth six figures.”
“Because it was yours,” Jalen says quietly. “We didn’t win it because we had a better idea. We won it because we used our size to bully the vendors into exclusivity. It was a dirty win.”
Cole steps up, and he looks unusually serious. “We also sent an email to the sweet shop, the florist, and the lighting tech we poached. We released them from their exclusivity clauses with us. They’re free to work with you again. In fact, we offered to subsidize their rates if they signed with you.”
I look from the folder to their faces. This isn’t flowers. This isn’t chocolate.
This is bleeding.
They are professionally bleeding for me. They are dismantling the advantages they spent years building, just to level the playing field.
“You’re giving up the biggest wedding of the season,” I say, my voice trembling. “To me.”
“We don’t want to be your competition, Sierra,” Dax says. “We never wanted to crush you. We were intimidated by you. You did more with nothing than we did with everything, and it scared the shit out of us.”
“We want to be your partners,” Malik says. “But until then, we want to be your equals. No more bullying. No more poaching. If you win, we want it to be because you’re the best. And we know you are.”
Tears prick my eyes, but these aren’t heat tears. These are tears of relief. Of validation.
They see me. They respect me.
“Is that enough?” Jalen asks, his voice cracking. “To prove we’re serious? Because if not, we’ll stop the business. We’ll close it down. Just tell us what to do.”
I look at the file. Then I look at them.
The wall I put up in the parking lot crumbles.
“You don’t have to stop doing business,” I say, a small smile tugging at my lips. I walk around the desk. The moment I move, the tension in the room snaps.
“You gave me back my wedding,” I say, stopping in front of Dax.
