Chapter 3

Margot POV

The difference hit me the second I stepped into the executive lobby.

Colder air. Quieter voices.

Carpet so thick it swallowed every footstep. The entire floor smelled of money and control.

A tall man in a perfectly tailored suit was already waiting near the reception desk.

“Miss Sinclair? Miles Carter, Alpha Vanderbilt’s personal assistant.”

He shook my hand with professional firmness, then rested his palm lightly against my shoulder blade to guide me toward the bank of private elevators.

The touch was a fraction too familiar for a first meeting.

Lisa flicked her ears in irritation. I didn’t pull away.

My natural scent was so faint most people assumed I was human, anyway.

Being mistaken for ordinary had always been useful armor.

The elevator was silent and carpeted in something that probably cost more per square foot than my monthly rent. Miles kept glancing at me when he thought I wasn’t looking.

We stopped.

A long runner of dark, hand-knotted carpet led straight to a pair of heavy blackwood doors.

My heart started beating harder for no logical reason.

Up here, the air itself felt altered, denser and electric, akin to the instant preceding a storm's release.

Miles opened the door, announced me in a clear voice, checked his watch, and left with a murmured reminder about a meeting in twelve minutes.

The door clicked shut behind him.

Rhett Vanderbilt looked up from the documents in his lap.

The air left my lungs in one soft, helpless rush.

He was even more ridiculous up close.

Sharp cheekbones, a mouth that looked like it had been carved by someone who understood both beauty and danger, and eyes the deep gray-blue of water under storm clouds.

He sat relaxed on the low sofa, one ankle resting on the opposite knee, but the power rolling off him was anything but casual.

And then his scent hit me.

Dark-aged wood. Clean smoke.

Something warm and dangerous underneath made the back of my throat ache.

It poured into my lungs as if it had been waiting for me.

My suppressants strained hard.

Heat bloomed low in my stomach and flared bright at the back of my neck where my gland sat under the patch.

Lisa surged forward so violently that I had to lock my knees to stay upright.

For one dizzying second, I could feel the phantom press of claws against the insides of my fingers.

My pulse slammed against the side of my throat hard enough that I was sure anyone looking could see it.

I dug my nails into my palms inside the pockets of my lab coat until the sting cut through the heat, forced a slow breath through my nose, and only then made my legs move.

I was still standing in the doorway like a complete idiot.

There was another man in the room, middle-aged, with glasses, and the polished look of senior legal counsel, but he might as well have been part of the furniture.

All my attention, all my senses, had narrowed to the Alpha on the sofa and the way his scent was already under my skin.

Rhett’s gaze traveled over me once, slow and unreadable.

Then he smiled, small and polite and completely controlled.

“Miss Sinclair. Sit.”

I forced myself forward, offered a short, awkward bow that felt ridiculous in a lab coat, and sat on the edge of the opposite sofa.

My personnel file lay open on the low table between us. My two-inch photo stared up at me with the blank expression of someone who did not know her life was about to be auctioned off.

“Margot Sinclair,” he said, tasting the name as if he were testing the weight of it.

“Good name. Who gave it to you?”

“My grandfather.” My voice came out steadier than I expected, which was a minor miracle.

“He designed jewelry. Had a thing for pearls.”

“He had excellent taste.” Rhett’s eyes stayed on mine, calm and assessing.

“The laboratory incident three years ago. It didn’t cause any lasting problems for your work or your health?”

My face went hot so fast I felt the flush climb my neck.

The memory dashed me, filled with shattered glass, intense fear, and shame. I recalled how his scent permeated the destroyed lab, preventing me from completely breaking down under the stress of the near-disaster.

Afterward, he’d made the entire mess disappear as if it had never existed.

The only thing left was the memory of how my body had answered his, hungry and helpless and completely out of my control. I’d told myself for three years that it was gratitude mixed with ordinary Omega biology. Most days I almost believed the lie.

“No. I’m fine. You… remember that.”

“I have a splendid memory.”

“Thank you. For what you did that day.”

The words came out quieter than I meant them to.

“You’re one of our better researchers,” he said evenly.

“It was the least I could do.” He set the file aside with precise fingers.

“I asked you here for two reasons. First, to meet you properly. Second, to find out if you have any requirements regarding the arrangement.”

“Requirements?”

The word felt foreign in my mouth.

He leaned forward slightly.

The movement made his scent roll over me in a thicker wave.

Lisa made a soft, involuntary sound in the back of my mind.

His voice dropped into something quieter and far more dangerous.

“Alpha Hargrave informed me you agreed to the marriage contract. Is there some misunderstanding between us?”

The room tilted hard to the left.

Lisa went completely still for one heartbeat, then started pacing in tight, frantic circles, claws scraping.

Scent memory crashed over me without mercy: dark wood and heat and the solid press of a much larger body shielding mine from everything that wanted to hurt me.

My pulse hammered against the side of my throat.

I curled my fingers into tighter fists until the nails bit deep enough to hurt and waited until I could speak without my voice shaking apart.

“I didn’t know it was you.”

Rhett’s mouth curved just as if he’d expected the answer and found it mildly entertaining.

“You didn’t know it was me.”

“No.”

“Are you disappointed?”

“No,” I said too fast, too sharp.

“I mean, no. I’m not.”

But Lisa was singing an entirely different song, low and hungry and terrified all at once.

And the scent of him was already living under my skin as if it had every right to be there.