Chapter 4

Sloane's POV

I hadn’t expected Ellis to spill my secrets. I quickly crouched down and ruffled his hair. "That's silly, baby. The man in the picture isn't him."

Ellis pouted. He didn't believe me."I'm not a toddler," he announced, deeply offended. "I'm almost five."

I pulled a candy from my apron pocket and pressed it into his palm. "Go find Nia. I promise I'll be right behind you."

His eyes lit up at the candy. "Promise?"

"Promise."

He scampered off, tiny shoes slapping against the marble, and I stayed crouched for one extra second, gathering myself. Then I stood, turned, and met Dorian's gaze.

It was worse than I expected.

Dorian was watching me with his arms folded across his chest. His expression had shifted into something I hadn't seen on him before.

Not the wolf. Not the cold composure he wore like a second skin.

Something rawer. Jealousy. Anger.

And underneath both, an ache he was trying very hard to bury.

I didn't know which part of what Ellis had said was bothering him more.

"He's five," Dorian said. It wasn't a question."We split up, and you got pregnant within, what, a month? Two? That's fast."

My stomach dropped.

"It's not what you think."

"Then what is it?"

He stepped toward me. His cologne hit first, My body responded before my brain could intervene: a warmth in my palms, a pull behind my ribs.

I hated it. Five years of distance, and my body still hadn't caught up.

"Or before." His voice dropped, low and dangerous. "Were you already pregnant when you were with me? When you were in my bed?"

The words hit me like a physical blow.

"What?" I thought I’d misheard him and stared at him in disbelief.

"Did you cheat on me?" He took a step closer. "Is that what happened? You found someone else, got pregnant, and then played the victim when I—"

I slapped him.

The sound echoed through the wardrobe like a gunshot. My palm stung. His cheek went red. And for one frozen moment, neither of us moved.

I'd never hit anyone before. Not once in my life. But the accusation—the filth of it—was more than I could bear.

"I have never," I said, my voice shaking, "been with anyone but you."

Dorian's hand came up to his cheek. He stared at me like he was seeing me for the first time.

I couldn't tell him the truth. Not about Ellis. Not about my brother.Dad had warned me before he died — the family's genetic disease couldn't become public. The wrong people finding out about our bloodline could put Ellis in danger.

So I said what I could.

"Believe what you want," I said. "I stopped caring what you think five years ago."

Dorian raised his hand and touched his cheek. Slowly. His pupils shrank to points.

The click of high heels saved us both.

"What are you two doing?"

Colette appeared in the doorway. Her gaze swept from Dorian's flushed cheek to me, standing too close to him in a wrinkled uniform with my uneven breathing.

I stepped back fast. If Colette figured out that Dorian and I had history, I'd be out of this pack by morning:"I was finishing the wardrobe, ma'am. Sorry for running late."

Colette's eyes narrowed. Then she turned to Dorian and her face rearranged itself into something sweet.

"Fine. Get out." She glanced at me over her shoulder.

"These maids. They're only ever motivated when there's a man around."

I kept my head down and walked out. My hands were shaking inside my pockets.

The omegas were waiting at the bottom of the stairs. The moment I came downstairs, they exchanged knowing looks and started sneering.

“Oh, my God. Look who finally decided to come down. Our little single mom.”

“Unbelievable. She actually had the nerve to spend that long in Miss Colette’s room!”

“Well, with Miss Colette’s fiancé upstairs, maybe she was deliberately dragging her feet to get his attention.” She snickered. “Pathetic.”

I stopped at the bottom step.

"I was working," I said flatly. "Did any of you actually see me seducing anyone?" I looked at each of them.

"Any of you? Even once? Or are you just filling the silence because nobody important ever asks your opinion?"

Two of them faltered. The third opened her mouth, but Ella's heels from the corridor cut her off.

"That's enough." Ella appeared with a clipboard under her arm."The vendor prep won't do itself. All of you, go. Now."

They scattered. Ella's gaze landed on me like a spotlight.

"We've got a lot to do before the party next week," she announced. "You." She pointed at me, "Sort through these invitations. Names, addresses, identities. I want it done by tomorrow."

She shoved the stack at me, and the top envelope caught my eye.

Dorian Blackwell.

My fingers got cold.

He wasn't just passing through. He'd be back, as a guest, at a party, in this house.

And I would be here. Serving.

I told myself to think. One evening. The house was large enough.

Keep my head down. Stay busy. Avoid eye contact.

"One more thing."

Ella returned from the storage room, arms stacked with folded black fabric. She handed out uniforms to the maids filing past.

"Everyone reports for party duty. No exceptions, no shift swaps, no sick days."

She left that land.

"Anyone who doesn't show loses two weeks' pay."

My backup plan — a sudden headache, a stomach bug, a note from Ellis's doctor — died on the spot.

When it was my turn, Ella smiled. It wasn't a nice smile:"One per person. Already washed and pressed.Don't tamper with it. Damages come out of your check."

I took it. My mind was still on the invitation, on the gold ink, on the fact that in one week I'd be pouring drinks for the man I'd just slapped in his future fiancée's wardrobe.

I carried everything back to my room and hung the black uniform in my closet without unfolding it. I had bigger problems.