I shut my eyes. I'm so fucked.
4. Carter
I don't remember the drive home.
One moment I'm in the back of the car leaving the studio, the next I'm standing in the foyer of the family estate, and I have no idea how I got here. My driver must have brought me. I don't know. I can't think.
All I can smell ishim.
It's on my clothes. On my skin. In my lungs with every breath I take. Jamie Dean's scent clings to me like a brand, marking me as thoroughly as if he'd bitten my neck on live television.
Which, in a way, he did. Just with his eyes instead of his teeth.
"Carter."
My father's voice cuts through the fog. He's standing in the doorway to his study, Warren at his shoulder, both of them looking at me with expressions that make my stomach drop.
"Inside," my father says. "Now."
I follow them into the study. Generations of Cranes have faced crises in this room. I just never expected to be the one who caused one.
My father doesn't sit. He stands behind his desk, hands braced on the surface, and stares at me.
"What," he says slowly, "the hell happened?"
I don't have an answer. I open my mouth, close it again. What can I say? None of it makes sense.
"It was a scent match," I say finally. "Unexpected. I have it under control."
"No, you do not. My father's laugh is sharp and humorless. "The clip is on every goddamn social media platform. People are calling it the prime match of the century, and you're telling me you have it under control?"
"It won't happen again."
"It shouldn't have happened at all." He pushes off the desk and starts pacing. "So? Was it?"
““I know exactly what he is asking me.Was it a prime match?
“No,” I lie. Obviously, it was. I’ve had scent matches before. I know what they’re like. They’re notthat. I’ve never experienced anything like it. Jamie Dean is my perfect chemical match.
We both know I am lying. I can see it in my father’s eyes. I also see the way his eyes light up with approval.
Who gives a fuck if some journalist is attracted to me? The only thing that’s important is that I have it under control, and my father and I know that there is no way I’d ever betray my family for some two bit player like Dean.
The answer is no because it is the only possible answer that there can be.
“Good,” he says. “Make sure it stays that way. You fucked up tonight. Do it again and your career is over.”
The words land hard. He's right. I know he's right. This is the first major misstep of my career—the first time I've let something personal interfere with the family's interests. I've screwed up badly.
That damned omega appeared in front of me and I lost my fucking mind on live television.
“We need to focus on damage control," Warren says. His voice is calm. He’s cleaned up worse messes than this. "The scent match angle is already out there. We can't put that back in thebox. We’ll just need to shape how people interpret it. In fact, this might be a major win for us."
My father stops pacing.
Warren moves to the desk, pulling out his tablet. "The narrative right now is romantic. Social media is eating it up. We can flip that and use it. Easily. Dean is an unknown, unregistered omega. He’s never had a major story before this one. We’ll paint him as just one more unstable weirdo obsessed with a famous alpha. After how he reacted to Carter, it won’t be hard to make him look like a stalker."
I keep my face neutral, but something unexpectedly protective twists in my gut. I shove the feeling away.
