CHAPTER FOUR

KAIA

I arrive at Moonfang Construction fifteen minutes early, my black coffee steaming in my hands. It's just a job, I tell myself as I scan my keycard at the employee entrance. I can do this.

The elevator ride to the fifteenth floor feels endless. When the doors finally open, I step into a bustling workspace—cubicles arranged in neat rows, floor-to-ceiling windows offering views of the forest, and the constant hum of productivity. My new desk sits in the corner, a modest workstation with a computer and a stack of files waiting for my attention.

I'm settling into my chair when I feel it—that familiar prickle along my spine that means I'm being watched. I look up to find Vincent standing near the conference room, his dark suit immaculate, his expression unreadable. Our eyes meet for a brief moment before he turns away, dismissing me like I'm nothing more than office furniture.

Fine. Two can play that game.

I spend the morning familiarizing myself with the filing system and reviewing project timelines. Vincent's calendar is packed with meetings, site visits, and conference calls. At ten AM, I see the project briefing scheduled—my first meeting as his assistant.

I gather my notepad and pen, steeling myself for what's to come. Just keep your head down and take notes, I tell myself. You can do this.

The conference room is already full when we arrive. A dozen executives sit around a polished oak table, laptops open, coffee cups steaming. Vincent stands at the head of the table, commanding the room with effortless authority.

He doesn't acknowledge my entrance. Doesn't even glance in my direction as I slip into an empty chair near the back. But something shifts in the air—a tension that makes my wolf stir restlessly beneath my skin.

I watch him work, and I hate that I'm impressed. He's different from the boy I used to know—harder, more controlled. There's a coldness to him now that wasn't there before, like he's carved himself from ice and steel.

Twenty minutes into the meeting, his dark eyes suddenly fix on mine.

"Ms. Dawson," he says, his voice cutting through the room like a blade. "What's your assessment of the permit delays on Riverside?"

Every head in the room turns toward me. I feel their stares like physical weights, judging, evaluating. The omega who dared to speak in the presence of wolves who matter.

I clear my throat and straighten my shoulders. "Based on the documentation, it appears the delays are primarily due to environmental impact reviews. The forestry department requires additional soil samples before they'll approve the foundation work."

Vincent's dark eyes never leave mine. "And your recommendation?"

"Fast-track the testing. Bring in an independent lab if necessary. The cost of expedited results will be less than the penalties for missing the completion deadline."

A few executives nod approvingly. Vincent's expression doesn't change, but something flickers in his eyes—surprise, maybe, or approval. I can't tell which.

"Reasonable," he says, then turns back to the room. "Meeting adjourned."

The executives begin filing out, their conversations resuming the moment they hit the hallway. I gather my things quickly, hoping to escape before—

"Ms. Dawson." His voice stops me halfway to the door. "My office. Now."

Talia shoots me a worried look but doesn't linger. Vincent doesn't wait for my response before striding out, clearly expecting me to follow.

I take my time gathering the rest of my things, refusing to jump at his command like an eager puppy. When I finally make it to his office, he's standing behind his massive mahogany desk, reading something on his computer screen.

"You wanted to see me?" I ask, keeping my voice professionally neutral.

He doesn't look up immediately. "Close the door."

I hesitate, then do as he asks. The click of the latch sounds unnaturally loud in the silence.

"Sit." He gestures to one of the leather chairs across from his desk.

"I prefer to stand."

Now he does look up, his dark eyes assessing. "Still can't follow simple instructions."

"Still can't ask nicely, I see."

A muscle in his jaw ticks. "I'm listening," he says, leaning back against his chair, exuding an air of arrogant confidence.

"You're listening to what?" I ask, confused by his statement.

"The reason you thought it was okay to just disappear one night and then show up here acting like we're nothing. I want to hear your fucking reason, Kaia."

I steel my emotions, forcing myself and my wolf to ignore the pained hurt in his voice.

"I don't have one," I say, my voice flat.

"You don't have one?" He stands from his chair and walks over to me, his body radiating that Alpha energy that would make most wolves cower. Instead, it makes mine purr with satisfaction that he's so powerful. Weird, I know.

"Nope. I wanted to leave, so I left."

"Kaia," he growls, grabbing my arm as his face gets an inch from mine. God, I love how much I'm getting to him. It must be killing him not knowing the truth.

"Let go," I say quietly, but there's steel in my voice.

His grip tightens. "Seven years. Seven fucking years I've been wondering what I did. What happened. And you just... nothing?"

The pain in his voice almost breaks my resolve. Almost. But then I remember that night, his laughter with Trent.

"Maybe that should tell you something," I say, ice-cold.

His jaw clenches. "That's not an answer."

"It's all you're getting." I jerk my arm free. "Can I go now? I actually have work to do."

I head for the door, but his voice stops me.

"We're not done here."

I look back at him—expensive suit, barely controlled fury, desperation he's trying to hide. For just a second, I let my mask slip. Let him see a hint of what he destroyed.

"Yeah, we are, Vincent," I say softly. "We've been done for seven years."