Chapter Twenty: Royal Contract or Trap?

The gilded edges of the contract shimmered under the harsh fluorescent lights of Damon's office, reflecting in his avaricious eyes. He had reread the document a dozen times, each pass fueling his initial euphoria. A Royal contract! Designing a new training facility for the Royal Guard – the most prestigious project imaginable! It would catapult Robin Architecture into the stratosphere, silencing the whispers of his company's faltering finances and solidifying his position within the pack.

He envisioned the groundbreaking ceremony, the media attention, the influx of new clients clamoring for his 'Royal Architect' touch. He'd even imagined Elara, finally proud, finally seeing him as the successful Alpha he was destined to be.

But the euphoria was a fragile thing, easily shattered. And shattered it did, as Damon, fueled by a niggling unease, began to dissect the fine print. His brow furrowed, the triumphant gleam fading, replaced by a growing suspicion that clawed at his gut.

The deadlines were...insane. Construction on this scale typically took two years, yet the contract stipulated completion within fourteen months, including design, procurement, and the inevitable bureaucratic hurdles. The quality demands were even more egregious. The specifications for materials, the tolerance levels for construction, were so exacting they were practically impossible to meet without incurring astronomical costs.

And then, there was the final blow, the clause that sent a chill down his spine: a penalty clause so severe, so crippling, that failure to meet even one minor specification could bankrupt Robin Architecture and leave him drowning in debt. The penalty clause alone was enough to wipe out any profit he could make from the job.

Damon slammed the contract onto his mahogany desk, the sound echoing in the otherwise silent office. He felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead. This wasn't a contract; it was a trap. A meticulously crafted, royally ordained trap.

He rose from his chair, pacing restlessly. "Who would do this to me? And why?" He yelled out to no one in sight. Then, the answer slammed into him with the force of a physical blow. Kaelen. Prince Kaelen Thana.

The realization was like a viper coiling in his chest, its venomous hiss fueling his rage. Kaelen...the too-charming, too-handsome heir who'd been suspiciously cordial towards him lately. Who'd showered Robin Architecture with this supposed 'opportunity'.

Damon stopped pacing, staring out the panoramic window at the cityscape below. He could almost feel Kaelen's eyes on him, a silent judgment of his worth, a mocking reminder of his precarious position.

He knew, with a certainty that settled deep in his bones, that this contract wasn't about architecture. It was about him. About undermining him. About...Elara? Did Prince Kaelen set him up for failure so as to degrade him further in Elara's eyes? Did prince Kaelen set him up for failure to get back at him for raising a knife at Elara? But why? Is it true to the whispers around his pack that the prince favours Elara?

"Elara, Elara, Elara!! Oh that damned omega!!" He yelled furiously.

The thought of the Prince favoring Elara sent another jolt of fury through him. Was Kaelen trying to financially cripple him, making him less of a prize for Elara? Was he trying to publicly humiliate him, making him appear incompetent in the eyes of the pack?

He clenched his fists, his knuckles white. He couldn't back down. To refuse a Royal commission was tantamount to treason, an insult to the crown that would bring swift and merciless retribution. It would be perceived as weakness, a confirmation of his failing business, and a public declaration of his inability to handle even the simplest tasks.

He had two choices: accept the contract and risk financial ruin, or refuse it and face social and political annihilation. Both paths led to disaster. Nice one, Prince Kaelen, you play so well.

Unseen in the doorway, Elara watched him, her heart a tangled mess of conflicting emotions. She'd noticed his initial excitement, the almost boyish glee on his face. But she'd also seen the gradual darkening of his expression as he scrutinized the contract, the growing tension radiating from him like heat from a furnace.

She understood the gravity of the situation. She understood the ruthless games that Alphas played, especially those at the highest echelons of power. And she understood, with a sinking feeling, that Kaelen was playing a far more dangerous game than Damon could possibly imagine.

She stepped into the office, her footsteps soft on the thick carpet. "Alpha?" she said tentatively.

He turned, his eyes hard, his expression unreadable. "What do you want, Elara? Must you get involved in everything? Must you ruin everything with your presence in my life?"

Elara took a deep breath, ignoring his rant. "I...I saw the contract," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "Are you...alright?"

He scoffed. "Alright? I'm about to be handed the biggest opportunity of my career, thanks to the benevolence of Prince Kaelen. Of course, I'm alright." His voice dripped with sarcasm.

She ignored his tone. "The deadlines...they seem...ambitious," she ventured carefully.

"Ambitious?" He barked out a laugh. "They're impossible, Elara! They're designed to fail."

She hesitated, then took a step closer. "Maybe...maybe there's a way to renegotiate. To explain the...challenges."

A flicker of something – desperation, perhaps? – crossed his face. "Renegotiate with the Prince? Are you insane? They'd laugh me out of the Palace."

"But...it's worth a try, isn't it? To at least explore the options?" She tried to inject a note of encouragement into her voice, but underneath it, she was terrified. Terrified of Damon's possible reaction to her casually talking to him about something so important, he could snap and beat her up. And to top it, she's terrified for the inevitable collision course she was on with Kaelen.

Damon stared at her, his eyes narrowed. He searched her face, trying to discern her true motivations. Was she genuinely concerned, or was she simply trying to manipulate him, to further Kaelen's agenda? He couldn't tell. He never could.

"You think you know so much, don't you, Elara?" he snarled. "You think you can solve everything with your quiet words and your...omega intuition."

He turned away from her, back to the window, his shoulders slumped. "It doesn't matter what I do," he muttered. "I'm damned either way."

Elara felt a pang of something she hadn't felt for a long time: pity. Not for the Alpha, not for the man who treated her with such disdain, but for the cornered wolf, desperate and afraid. She knew this contract was more than just a business deal for Damon. It was a test of his strength, his worth, his very identity.

"Alpha," she said softly, placing a hand tentatively on his arm. He flinched, but didn't pull away. "Whatever you decide, I'll support you."

He didn't respond, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon. The silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken words and unresolved feelings.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Damon straightened his shoulders, a newfound resolve hardening his features. He turned back to the desk, his eyes gleaming with a fierce, almost reckless determination.

He picked up the contract, the gilded edges glinting in the light. He didn't bother rereading it. He knew exactly what it said. He knew the risks. He knew the potential consequences.

He grabbed a pen, and with a swift, decisive stroke, signed his name on the dotted line.

"You'd support me? With what? Of what help or support could you possibly be to me?"

"Alpha, I.."

"Why don't you tell me what it is with you and the Prince? I keep hearing whispers that he favours you. How true is that?" The way he said that, the way he's looking at Elara, no less predatory than ever.

"I'm not sure about the whispers but the Prince doesn't favour me."

"Do you think so? The previous day, he came to pick you up in a royal convoy. Do you know how much grace and honour that gesture holds? And you didn't even care to enlighten your alpha about your grand visit to the palace."

"It's nothing to tell home about, we just had a talk." Elara lied, but you didn't expect her to tell her husband that her "grand" visit to the palace, the previous day, might have been the beginning of a love affair with the Prince.

"Do you have a secret you wish to let your alpha know?"

Elara hesitates for a moment, "me and the prince knew each other way before I learnt he's the Prince and before he learnt I'm mated to Alpha Damon Robin." Okay, I think that is basically the truth.

"You expect me to believe that? You've lived in my pack house your whole life, the only luck you've ever experienced is going from my late grandmother's caretaker to my omega and you don't even show enough gratitude for that." His words hit Elara like a taste of reality. How can she, of all people, suddenly become an important person to the Prince? It's so unreal it hurts to think of the possibility.

"I think the Prince might have mistaken you for someone he knew long before, and you have somehow convinced yourself that you're that person. Strong delusion, I might say, but as long as you have his attention, do well to use it in the favour of your alpha. Convince him to add a little more to the existing budget. I need to hire some very good professionals, because this obviously won't work without extra hands. Remember to keep shut about the extra hands because they're going to be ghost contributors, not to be mentioned or credited."