I walked past him to the door of my office, but turned back long enough to say, “I hope you’re happy. You just shattered the prize you worked so hard to win.”
My dad’s smug grin dropped. I wondered for half a second if he realized just how much he’d hurt me. I wondered if he had an ounce of morality left, or if he cared that I would forever stand by his side, vacant and hollow, because of what he’d done.
“Hang in there,” Imogen whispered as I walked past her desk.
I managed a brief smile for her before striding out of the office, taking the elevator down, and leaving the building.
What was the point anymore? Between Dad and Monk, Quincy was thoroughly out of my reach. I couldn’t even contact him to tell him that I would always love him, that I wanted him more than any money, apartment, or law firm. I would have burned the world down for him, but now he was marrying someone else.
I walked, unseeing, down the street toward the high-end restaurant across from Barrington’s courthouse, where Dad’s admin had booked lunch for me and Gretchen Montgomery. My heart felt like it might wither and die in my chest, and my stomach was filled with lead.
My brain, on the other hand, started whirring as I walked along the busy city streets.
Quincy had somehow been convinced to marry Monk. I could imagine a dozen things that might have led to that. Quincy’s family was his weak spot, and he would do anything for them. Monk must have promised them money, or worse, promised tohurt them if Quincy didn’t marry him. Or maybe ReBond had something to do with this. Monk had been there at the Bangers & Mash Labs display right along with me. He could have easily used that as an excuse to twist Quincy’s arm into marriage.
I supposed I should be happy that my omega would be healed, that he might be able to bond again someday. I doubted he would want to bond to Chester again. Quincy despised the man, and I’d had the impression that Monk didn’t really care for him either.
I stopped so fast that the person behind me nearly walked into me.
Monk didn’t like Quincy. I would have bet on it. So why was he marrying him?
I started walking again, my steps faster and my heart beating harder.
Maybe the question wasn’t why Quincy was marrying Monk. Maybe the question was why Monk was marrying Quincy. He didn’t need Quincy for money or power or prestige. With the amount of money he had, Monk could have married any omega in the world. In fact, it made more sense that he’d use his money to marry a celebrity or a model or someone.
It made zero sense for Chester fucking Monk to marry my omega.
“Junior! There you are,” Gretchen Montgomery greeted me at the door of the bistro. “Oh my gosh, look at you! You look gorgeous today. It’s a shame we’re not meeting for supper anddessert, if you know what I mean.”
She grabbed my arm once I was close, leaned heavily on me, and laughed like a horse. That was some feat, considering she was a relatively petite, fashionably dressed, high society omega with a pedigree a mile long.
“Gretchen,” I said, kissing her cheek dutifully.
“I was so excited to meet you here today,” Gretchen went on, clinging hard to my arm as we stepped into the bistro. “It’s such a great day for celebrity watching here in Barrington! They’re filming that new action flick over near Gracechurch Street. Bill Hamilton is starring in that one, and they say he’s talking to the crowd and chatting them all up.”
“Oh?” I asked, as uninterested in celebrity gossip as I was in, well, pretty much everything in my life right now.
“Yes!” Gretchen squealed. “We should go over there once lunch is finished. There’s a rumor that Bill is secretly dating an omega somewhere here in Barrington. The scandal of it all is that the omega is apparently older than him and already has three kids of his own.”
“That’s a scandal?” I glanced around the crowded bistro, hoping the table Dad had booked for us would free up fast.
“Absolutely,” Gretchen said. “It’s almost as big of a scandal as when Dean Murphy married a beta, even though he’s the dreamiest omega on the silver screen.”
“Okay,” I said.
Seriously, Gretchen needed a hobby other than celebrity watching. We’d been out a few times now, and that’s all she ever talked about. She was so into the world of celebrity relationships and scandals that it was embarrassing. If I married her, we’d probably be at the center of that gossip all the time.
I couldn’t do it. I’d have to pick someone else. Gretchen definitely wasn’t the one.
“Gretchen, look,” I began, intending to call off the date and go somewhere I could be alone.
“Oh! Speaking of marriage,” Gretchen said, her eyes suddenly going wide. “Chester Monk, the tech mogul, is getting married today! Right now, I think.”
And I thought this lunch couldn’t get any worse.
“I’d heard,” I said, turning my face away from her.
“He’s marrying his ex, believe it or not,” she went on. “It’s the most romantic story. They were childhood friends, but time and circumstance drove them apart. They got back together, though, like a fairy tale ending.”
