Walking past him, I reach back for his hand to pull him out of the room, so we can go choose another one for me to use. Instead of leaving, Matteo delivers a lesson in Beta strength, delivered with gentle persuasion.
His eyes rest on the ring I wear, and as he brings my hand higher, I think he will kiss it, but he uses his thumb to rub over the glittering cluster of jewels.
“Everything in this room, we can replace. Layne, like you said, let’s not waste time arguing when you already agreed to letting us spoil and care for you. Say yes,” he whispers.
I wait for the wave of influence, swaying me to agree, before I berate myself for so quickly forgetting he is a Beta.
“We don’t have a lot of time.”
“For?” I ask.
Switching his focus from the ring to my face, he slowly assesses before he takes a step back, as though he knows he’s pushing hard. But then, to keep me guessing as to who exactly Matteo is, his lips twist into a cheeky grin. “I’m dying a slow death, remember? And before that can happen, we need to get you to work.”
The spell breaks without either of us conceding or deciding.
“Will an Uber be okay to take you to work?”
This time, I can’t stop the surprise that flashes over my face, and he laughs, leading me away from the room and back toward the kitchen. “Surprised we’re not demanding to drive you there ourselves?”
“Doesyessound overly judgmental?”
He shrugs. “The Dock is neutral ground, and considering no one really knows about this”—he squeezes my hand—“us not being seen with you just yet is the most sensible way of handling your last night at work.”
I don’t miss his assumption, but he’s right. There is no way I’m involving Jana and her pack. The life they have in the middle of The Dock is theirs, not mine, but that doesn’t mean I would do anything to put her life at risk, like working with her while fake courting Pack De Luca. That has disaster painted in giant red letters all over it.
“I might head out early. Pack my things.”
We walk back into the kitchen, where Dante stands like a sentinel, watching on. Valentine walks back in with a black duffel bag in his hands, setting it on the island. He seems to do that—putting things in front of me, as opposed to handing them to me. Instead of asking Valentine what he’s up to—because hedances around the truth—and I’m impatient, I look to Dante for an explanation.
“We might have a deal, Layne, but at the end of the day, you still have to decide for yourself what you want to do and what you won’t do.”
I tilt my head toward the duffel. “And this is?”
“A bag with enough money to pay for your Uber.”
Letting Matteo’s hand fall away, I step up and open the bag, leaving it on the counter until I see for myself what’s inside. Lifting out a bundle of fresh one-hundred-dollar bills, I look at Valentine.
“There are ten straps in this bundle. Ten straps! I can’t go to work with one hundred thousand dollars in a bag.” I shake my head. “Who in their right mind travels with that much cash?”
“That’s not the first of your payment by the way. What happens if you get hungry?” he asks, somehow maintaining a straight face.
Walking past him, I search through the kitchen drawers, looking for a pair of scissors. “I’d sneak to the kitchen and ask the chef to grill me something. Like Jana has always said I could. One hundred thousand dollars is overkill, and you know it.”
“You need to get used to not being phased by money.” He’s schooling me, and I don’t need to look at him to know he’s still wearing a blank expression. I can hear it in the way he speaks.
Finding some scissors, I return to the bag and go to drag the money out, but my hand hits something soft.
When I look at him, I get what the deadpan look was for. He set me up. Without reneging on our deal. Because, while Valentine is all but suffocating in scent blocker, the worn hoodie he hid under the bundle is not. It’s saturated in his fresh coffee ground scent and practically rippling with his energy. My hand digs farther into the surprise, and I can’t seem to control the way my fingers start clawing into the fabric like a kitten would.
“Snacks are important, and the money gives you independence. I also hope you don’t mind—I packed a hoodie, in case you get cold. It’s not like you can walk around in Matteo’s blazer. The bullet hole is a little noticeable.”
Valentine’s eyes remain as vivid blue as ever, but now there’s a deepening to the blue, like it’s being warmed slowly.
“Since we’re running on anonymity, and you’re against us accompanying you?—”
“You can't, it's neutral ground. You’re not neutral,” I blabber quickly, still fighting with my sensible side to drop the Alpha’s hoodie. Valentine’s mask disappears and he smiles. It’s not hard to figure out that I’m doing a terrible job of pretending I’m unaffected by him and his gifts.
“No, we’re not neutral, but for the next few hours, we can pretend.”
