CHAPTER 13: CARE

CHAPTER 13: CARE

In the quiet executive office, Arthur set his coffee cup down and gave James a thoughtful look.

"Well, sir," Arthur continued softly, "if this 'friend' wants his partner to open his heart, he shouldn't give up so easily. Alphas don't win their Omegas over with contracts or arguments. He needs to take care of him. Bring him whatever he craves, check up on him constantly, make sure he’s resting, and take care of every single need during this pregnancy. Love isn't built overnight—it's built through care. If your friend treats him right, the partner will naturally start to rely on him and love him."

James blinked, sitting up a little straighter. "I told you, Arthur, it's about my friend—"

"Of course, sir. Your friend," Arthur cut in with a smooth, knowing smile. "Tell your friend to go home and start looking after his partner."

After Arthur left the room, James leaned back in his chair, staring out the floor-to-ceiling windows. Arthur’s advice echoed in his head.

Take care of him. Pay attention to his needs.

Unconsciously, James picked up a pen and pulled out a clean notepad. He began absentmindedly scribbling down random words on the paper: Leo... Alexander... Oliver... Clara...

He froze, staring at the list of baby names he had just written. A heavy blush crept up his neck. He quickly crumpled the paper into a tight ball and tossed it into the trash bin.

"Absurd," James muttered to himself, though a soft, unmistakable smile touched his lips. He stood up, grabbed his suit jacket, and decided to go home early to check on Soren.

When James returned to the estate, he found me sitting on the sun porch, wrapped in my oversized sweater. He didn't bring up the contract, nor did he argue about the baby. Instead, he quietly sat beside me, setting down a small tray of fresh fruit, sour plums, and cold sparkling water.

"Are you feeling sick at all?" James asked, his voice low and unusually gentle. "Is there anything specific you want to eat? Sour? Sweet?"

I looked at him, completely caught off guard. "James... what are you doing?"

"Taking care of my partner," James said simply, his silver eyes searching my face with deep sincerity. "You don't have to change your mind about our business deal, Soren. But while you are carrying this baby, I am going to make sure you have everything you need. You're not going through this alone."

For the rest of the afternoon, James barely left my side. Every time I turned around, he was adjusting my blanket, offering me light snacks, or checking if I was comfortable. The cold, distant billionaire was completely gone, replaced by a attentive Prime Alpha whose only focus was my comfort. Beneath my protective walls, my heart began to soften just a little.

That evening, Vance Enterprises hosted its annual High-Society Gala at the Grand Horizon Hotel. The grand ballroom was packed with corporate titans, investors, and national press under glowing crystal chandeliers.

I stepped into the hall wearing a tailored midnight-blue tuxedo designed to conceal my small waistline. Beside me, James walked with effortless dominance. He kept one broad hand hovering right behind the small of my back, his smoked cedar scent wrapping around me like a warm shield.

"If the crowd gets too overwhelming, tell me immediately and we'll leave," James murmured, leaning down close to my ear.

"I'm fine, James," I replied, though the warmth of his presence eased my anxiety.

Suddenly, a loud, dramatic commotion broke out near the center of the ballroom.

"Look who decided to show his face!" Matthew's voice boomed over the soft orchestra music.

I turned around, and my blood ran cold.

Matthew was walking toward us with a malicious smirk, with Tyla trailing smugly beside him. But right behind them was a man in an ill-fitting, faded suit—my estranged, greedy father, Richard Mercer.

Reporters frantically turned their cameras toward us, flashbulbs exploding across the room. Matthew had planned this public trap meticulously to ruin my reputation on live television.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the press!" Matthew announced loudly, pointing a finger at me. "Soren Mercer claims to represent the honorable Mercer legacy. Yet here stands his own father, left in utter ruin while Soren hoards company assets and plays corporate games with the Vance family!"

Richard opened his mouth right on cue, putting on a pathetic, tearful act for the cameras. "My own son... tossed me aside..."

The crowd gasped. Reporters began shouting questions, aiming their lenses directly at my face. Tyla smirked from the sidelines, waiting for me to collapse under the public humiliation.

My throat tighted, and my hands clenched into tight fists at my sides.

Before the press could push any closer, a suffocating, terrifying pressure washed over the entire hall.

James stepped directly in front of me. His dominant Prime Alpha aura flared so intensely that every reporter in the room froze in terror, instinctively lowering their cameras.

James didn't waste a single look on my father or Matthew. Instead, he wrapped a firm, possessive arm around my waist, pulling me securely against his side in front of every camera in the nation.

"That's enough," James said, his voice quiet yet echoing like thunder off the high marble walls.

He looked straight into the main television camera with icy, ruthless authority.

"Soren Mercer is not a rogue asset, nor is he standing alone," James declared smoothly. "He is my official partner. And pending our private arrangements, he will soon be my spouse."

Gasps erupted across the ballroom. Flashbulbs went off like fireworks as the press went wild.

Matthew’s face drained of all color. He stood frozen, his mouth open in total, humiliating shock in front of the entire corporate elite. Beside him, Tyla’s smug grin shattered into pure horror. Their public trap had completely backfired.

James didn't look back at them. Keeping his arm wrapped tightly around my waist, his warm hand resting protectively over my lower stomach, he guided me smoothly out onto the quiet VIP balcony away from the noise.

Out on the terrace, the crisp night air blew softly against us. I looked up into James's silver eyes, my heart hammering in my chest. "James... why did you say that on live camera?"

James reached up, gently cupping the side of my face with his large hand. "Because I meant every word, Soren. I told you—I am never going to let anyone hurt you or our baby again."