"And the stress of her best friend suing our company is making all of it worse." He stops and faces me. The look he gives me is the one he gives executives right before he fires them. "Lila's scent changed again yesterday. Do you know what that means?It means my omega's body is responding to emotional distress by altering her biochemistry, and the source of that distress is a lawsuit that exists because my brother was too much of an asshole to show up to a meeting."
I don't give a shit about Henderson's feelings. Don't care about her schedule, her righteous indignation, or her inflammatory emails. But Lila is family now, whether I wanted her to be or not, and I would never in a million years hurt her.
"What do you want me to do?" I don't ask open-ended questions the way other people do. I ask questions the way I file motions, with the expectation that the answer will be actionable.
"I want you to fix it. Before it gets worse."
"Define fix," I say, my eyes narrowing. I don't know where this is going, but I already hate it.
Grayson gives me his hard blue stare. The focused, deliberate glare that precedes a non-negotiable order.
"Take her to the lodge."
It takes me a full three seconds to process the sentence. "Excuse me?"
"The Vaughn lodge. Upstate. You and Henderson, this weekend. Off the record. Mandated mediation."
"That's not a thing. Mandated mediation doesn't happen at a private residence between opposing counsel without a neutral third party—"
"Make it a thing."
"Grayson, that's not how the legal system—"
"I don't give two fucks about how the legal system works." His voice drops to something that's not quite a growl but lives in the same neighborhood. "I care about my omega. I care about my baby. And I care about the fact that you provoked this woman into a lawsuit that is now physically affecting my pregnant mate."
The last three soft words reverberate around the room with the force of an atomic bomb. We don't use that word. The four of us—the pact we made, the walls we built—none of it included that word. Hearing it from Grayson's mouth, hearing the raw conviction behind it, cracks the foundation of a building I helped construct in real time.
"Systems matter more than feelings, Gray." I say it the way I've said it a hundred times. The phrase that's been my compass since I was nineteen and watching our father dissolve. "The second we start making policy based on emotions instead of logic—"
"Your sister-in-law is vomiting every morning and crying every night because her best friend and her bonded family are at war. Is that logical enough for you?"
Guilt is not an emotion I hold. It's inefficient—backward-looking, unproductive, a drag on forward momentum. But the image of Lila—brilliant, sharp-tongued Lila who managed my impossible brother for two years—hunched over a toilet because I couldn't be bothered to sit through a meeting, breaches every defense I have.
"The lodge is isolated. No cell service, press, or spectators. You said she wanted a stage to grandstand. The lodge takes that off the table. You'll be able to negotiate in person without all of this," he gestures around the office, "getting in the way." Grayson's voice has shifted from command to strategy. "You sit down with her, find some kind of framework for resolution, and settle this quietly. That's all I'm asking."
"You're not asking. You're ordering."
"I'm both." No apology. No softening. "And you'll do it because the woman carrying your niece or nephew deserves to eat breakfast and keep it down without worrying that her brother-in-law has a vendetta against omega rights attorneys."
The word niece or nephew unexpectedly roils me. Tectonic plates deep in my chest shifts. Just a fraction. Just enough to crack. Family. It has always been about family. Even the pact we made to never mate an omega, was supposed to preserve our family. Save us from ever being taken down by a mating gone wrong. Now that Grayson's broken the pact, we will still circle around him to keep him and his mate from harm.
"Fine. One weekend," I say as if he gave me a choice. "Off the record. And if she tries to use anything from that meeting in her filing—"
"Handle it. You're the lawyer."
He's at the door before I can argue further. His hand is on the handle when he pauses. "One more thing. Don't underestimate her. Lila says Jaleesa's the smartest person she knows, and Lila doesn't say things like that about anyone." His blue eyes hold mine. "Including you."
"I'm always the smartest person in the room," I tell him with a pointed look. He gives a quick bark of a laugh, and pats me on the back.
"You just keep thinking that—while she keeps outsmarting you. After all she wanted a meeting and looks like she's going to get it."
I glare at him again as he continues chuckling as he leaves. He's right and we both know it.Damn her.I stare at the stack of documents on my desk—the policies I drafted, the frameworks I built, the legal architecture I designed to keep biology from infiltrating the boardroom—and for the first time in my career, I wonder why I'm fighting so hard to control the uncontrollable. Grayson broke our pact for his omega. And despite their whirlwind they're more in love than any couple I've ever met. I bury the thought before it takes root. Sentiment is a luxury. The law doesn't care about feelings, and neither should I.
I pick up the phone. Three calls: one to the lodge's property manager, one to my assistant to clear the weekend, and one to Jaleesa Henderson's office to inform her that a mandatory mediation session has been scheduled at a location of my choosing. Her receptionist puts me on hold for four minutes—deliberate, I'm sure—before Henderson picks up.
"Mr. Vaughn." Her voice is exactly as I remember from the dinner—low, precise, carrying the authority that most lawyers have to fake. "I assumed you'd forgotten how phones work, given your trouble with calendar appointments."
"Ms. Henderson. I'm calling to schedule a mediation session. This weekend. At the Vaughn Lodge upstate."
