Chapter 10: The Hall

Ivy POV

The inside of the hall looked more like an obscenely expensive ballroom than anywhere I had any business standing.

Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling in clusters, catching the light and scattering it across huge round tables set with cutlery and china that probably cost more individually than everything in my apartment combined. The air smelled faintly of polished wood, flowers, and money- the kind that never worried about running out.

“Milo,” I whispered, trailing close behind him as he wove between tables like he’d done this a hundred times before. “I don’t belong here.”

“Sure you do,” he said, glancing back over his shoulder. “You’re Alex’s mate,” He cleared his voice. “I mean, special guest, of course.”

I frowned, half-catching the stumble but too distracted by the sheer amount of gold trim in the room to fully process it.

“I’m his assistant,” I corrected, voice low, hoping no one was listening.

“Even more reason to be here.” He pulled out a chair for me at a table near the front, entirely too pleased with himself. “You need to be ready to serve him when he needs it.”

“Milo.” My whispered, feeling curious eyes land on me. “People are staring.”

“They should,” He grinned, dropping into the seat beside mine without a shred of self-consciousness. “You’re the most vibrant woman in this entire room.”

Damn it. Why wouldn’t he just listen to me?

“Milo, why am I really here?” I asked, desperately. “I’m seriously not going to be making smoothies all night in a room like this.”

Milo leaned back in his chair, keeping his posture casual but his eyes told a different story entirely. Something in him clearly hated the idea of him hiding something from me. His smile faltered, just for a second.

He leaned forward instead, voice dropping. “I’m not supposed to say anything, but—”

“Ah,” a voice cut in from across the table, amused and a little too loud. “Alpha Alex decided to bring his little pet with him tonight.”

“Felix,” Milo warned, already on his feet. “Don’t you start.”

I recognized him one of Alex’s teammates, someone I’d seen laughing during practice, though he wasn’t laughing now. He was smirking at me instead, the kind of smirk that made my skin crawl even before he opened his mouth again.

“What?” Felix said, spreading his hands like he’d done nothing wrong. “I’m just saying what everyone else at this table is thinking.” His gaze slid to me. “She is cute, but she’s human. What exactly does Alex think he’s doing?”

The word “human” landed heavier than it should have, he said it like an accusation, like being human was a flaw.

“That’s enough,” Milo snapped, all traces of his earlier ease gone. He glared at Felix, daring him to say more.

Felix’s eyes lingered on me a moment longer before sliding away toward the guy seated beside him, murmuring something too low for me to catch. I wanted to get up and leave, but my legs refused to move.

I didn’t care what they were saying. I was too busy noticing something far more peculiar, every single man at this table was built like he belonged on a football field, not a black-tie dinner. They all had broad shoulders, thick necks, hands that looked like they could crush a wine glass without trying. Even the way they watched the room felt off alert, predatory, like they were more used to scanning for threats than making small talk over dinner.

My gaze drifted to a different table, and it was the same story there. Then to the one beyond that. Even the older men scattered throughout the hall looked like they’d stepped straight out of a gym rather than a boardroom. I felt like I’d wandered into a secret society for professional linebackers.

“There’s no way all of them play hockey,” I muttered under my breath, scanning the room.

That’s when my gaze landed on an older man near the far side of the hall, and caught him already looking back at me openly, unashamed, not in the way men usually stared, not the kind that made my skin crawl for the obvious reasons. This was different, intense and focused, like he was trying to solve something, and I was the puzzle sitting directly in front of him.

A cold shiver crawled down my spine. The longer I looked, the more certain I became that this was no ordinary spectator. He was measuring me, weighing something invisible between us.

What the hell was he staring at?

Before I could ask Milo who the old gentleman across the hall was, I heard a chair scrape against the floor beside me.

My head turned toward the sound, and there was Alex, dropping into the seat next to mine like he hadn’t just vanished for what felt like an eternity. His presence settled the anxiety in me but didn’t erase the tension.

I leaned forward. “How did your meeting with your father go?”

“It went,” he said.

I rolled my eyes at him. “That’s not an answer.”

“Well, it is now.” His voice was clipped, his shoulders still tense, anger still looming in his gaze.

I studied his face for a moment, searching for whatever he wasn’t saying his jaw was a little tighter than usual, his shoulders held a fraction too stiff, like he was still holding something in check.

Whatever had happened in that office, it clearly hadn’t been pleasant, and equally clearly, he had no intention of telling me about it tonight.

“That bad?” I asked anyway.

Surprise flickered across his face that I’d pushed at all instead of letting it go.

“Let’s just say my father and I don’t exactly see eye to eye on my future.”

Before I could ask more questions, I felt it again- that same prickling weight against my skin.

I glanced past Alex’s shoulder, back toward the far table, and found the old man still watching, except now his gaze had shifted, sliding from me to Alex and back again, something unreadable settling over his expression.

“Alex,” I said quietly. “Who is that man staring at us?”