LOGINMargot POV
The lab went completely quiet the second I walked back through the door.
Every head turned. Keyboards stopped clicking.
Someone froze with a pipette halfway to a sample tray.
I gave them the same mild, unbothered smile I used when expensive equipment threw error codes.
“Nothing interesting happened. Get back to work before the data gets cold.”
Seniority had its uses.
No one pressed for details.
Nora was a different story entirely.
She rolled her chair across the aisle the moment I sat down and dropped her voice to a fierce whisper.
“Talk. Right now. You look like someone hit you with a truck made of pure stress.”
“I signed a comprehensive NDA.” My words tasted bitter.
“That’s literally all I can say.”
Her eyes went wide behind her glasses.
“You’re actually kidding me.”
“I wish I were.” I rubbed the bridge of my nose hard enough to see small sparks.
My gland still felt warm under the suppressant patch, sensitive in a way that made me want to snarl at my biology.
“It’s… not bad news. That’s the only part I’m allowed to tell you.”
She studied my face for a long, searching second, then nodded slowly.
“Okay. As long as you’re not getting fired, arrested, or sold to the highest bidder. And if you suddenly come into money, remember who has always shared her emergency chocolate stash with you during the worst deadlines.”
“Deal,” I said, and meant it.
She hesitated, glancing toward the windows that looked out on the rest of the campus.
“Did you see the crown prince while you were up in the tower?”
“No.”
“Damn. Shame. You always get this specific look when he’s anywhere in the building. Don’t even try to deny it. I’ve known you too long.”
I kept my expression carefully neutral, even though Lisa flicked her tail in irritation at being so easily read.
“He’s objectively extremely good-looking. Biology does what biology does. It means nothing.”
“True enough.” Nora spun a pen between her fingers.
“Still makes you wonder what kind of Omega actually ends up permanently attached to someone like that. Has to be someone impressive.”
Melanie Hargrave, I thought.
Or at least she was supposed to be.
I still couldn’t figure out how she’d got herself marked by someone else when the alternative on the table was Rhett Vanderbilt.
Maybe the man was a complete nightmare behind closed doors.
Or perhaps she’d simply wanted out of the arrangement badly enough to burn every bridge she had and salt the earth behind her.
I stared at the data cascading across my monitor without seeing a single number.
Ten million dollars and a temporary marriage to the one Alpha whose scent still lived in my memory like a physical brand.
It should have felt like winning some twisted lottery.
Instead, it felt like standing on the edge of a cliff in total darkness, unable to tell whether the drop below was five feet or five hundred.
Lisa had been restless and vocal since the moment his scent first hit me in that office.
She didn’t understand five-year contracts or strategic alliances, or the careful language of prenuptial agreements.
She only understood the way his presence had rolled over both of us and the old, dangerous heat that still answered it without my permission.
I pressed two fingers firmly on the back of my neck. The skin felt distinctly warmer than it should have, sensitive in a way that made my stomach tighten.
The dark-wood scent still seemed to cling to the inside of my lungs, stubborn and invasive, as if it had followed me all the way back down thirty-eight floors and through the campus. Just to remind me of what I had signed.
I had the irrational, bone-deep sense that none of it was ordinary anymore.
Somewhere across the city, Rhett Vanderbilt was probably already deep in his next meeting, the entire transaction filed away under completed tasks and forgotten.
And I was sitting here with the memory of his scent still living under my skin, wondering how long I could keep pretending that the words “it doesn’t matter who he is” had ever been anything but a desperate lie I told myself to survive.
Lisa paced another slow, deliberate circle inside my chest and finally settled into a watchful crouch.
But she didn’t sleep. And neither did the heat slowly building under my skin.
Margot POVThe lab went completely quiet the second I walked back through the door.Every head turned. Keyboards stopped clicking.Someone froze with a pipette halfway to a sample tray.I gave them the same mild, unbothered smile I used when expensive equipment threw error codes.“Nothing interesting happened. Get back to work before the data gets cold.”Seniority had its uses. No one pressed for details.Nora was a different story entirely.She rolled her chair across the aisle the moment I sat down and dropped her voice to a fierce whisper.“Talk. Right now. You look like someone hit you with a truck made of pure stress.”“I signed a comprehensive NDA.” My words tasted bitter.“That’s literally all I can say.”Her eyes went wide behind her glasses.“You’re actually kidding me.”“I wish I were.” I rubbed the bridge of my nose hard enough to see small sparks.My gland still felt warm under the suppressant patch, sensitive in a way that made me want to snarl at my biology.“It’s… not
Margot POV“Then let’s get back to the practical points.”Rhett’s tone stayed mild, as if we were discussing quarterly projections instead of the next five years of my life. “What do you need after the wedding? Living expenses, housing preferences, personal habits, dietary restrictions, religious considerations, and car allowance—anything within reason is negotiable.”My brain felt stuffed with wet cotton.The dark-wood scent of him still filled every breath I took, warm and invasive and impossible to ignore.I kept my hands in the pockets of my lab coat, nails still pressed into my palms, and forced my spine to stay straight against the sofa.He checked his watch again, a tiny, efficient movement of the wrist.“This is a mutually beneficial arrangement for both parties. You’ll sign comprehensive agreements clarifying property rights and expectations beforehand. After the wedding, you’ll be expected to act as a normal wife in public and private, discreet, low-profile, loyal, and respe
Margot POVThe 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
Margot POVI went straight to the lab as if nothing had happened.My schedule was flexible; research didn’t punch a clock the same way corporate did, but disappearing for half the morning still felt unprofessional.I’d joined Vanderbilt Dominion right out of college through their competitive talent program.My advisor ran one of the more promising rare-earth projects.The salary was solid for someone my age.It just wasn’t seven million dollars solid.Looking at the numbers too long made the whole career path feel like a slow-motion joke.Nora Bennett was already at her station when I walked in, hair in a messy bun and safety glasses pushed up on her forehead.College roommate, lab partner, the only person besides my advisor who knew exactly how deep the financial hole went.“Well, look who graced us with her presence,” she said, spinning on her stool.“We were about to send a search party. Or at least order your usual sad desk salad and eat it out of spite.”“Had to handle something
Margot POVI still couldn’t make any of it feel real.The bodyguard’s hand stayed locked around my elbow the entire ride, not bruising but absolute.When the black SUV finally stopped in front of the Hargrave estate, he guided me out as if I might bolt.I didn’t pull away.I looked down at the thick fingers circling my arm and said, flatly, “You’re wasting energy. I already came.”He didn’t answer, but the pressure eased by a fraction.Twenty years ago this family had thrown me out like yesterday’s trash.Now they were dragging me back because they needed a spare part that still carried their blood.The house sat in that quiet, expensive pocket of the city where even the trees looked like they’d been paid to grow in perfect lines.Fresh stone-colored paint, manicured hedges, roses that looked almost artificial in their neatness.Up close, you could see the truth.Weather stains creeping along the foundation.One shutter hanging just a little lower than the others.Slow, expensive deca







