Semua Bab Alpha, Let's End This Bond!: Bab 131 - Bab 140

ARIAThe silver key felt like a lead weight in my pocket as I hurried down the sidewalk. Every engine roar behind me made my spine stiffen, my wolf's ears metaphorically pinned back. I kept expecting that black SUV to screech to a halt again, for Luca to lean out and drop another heavy-handed comment about my "safety."I just wanted to get to the new place. I wanted to turn the lock, sit on the floor, and breathe air that didn't smell like his cologne or the sterile hospital room he’d just come from."Aria?"I jumped, nearly tripping over a crack in the pavement. A silver sedan had pulled up alongside the curb, and a familiar face was leaning out the window.Brandon.He looked exactly the same as he always had—kind eyes, a relaxed smile that didn't hide a hundred hidden agendas, and that easy, small-town warmth that felt like a localized sunbeam."Brandon! Gosh, you scared me," I said, leaning against a lamp post to catch my breath."Sorry, didn't mean to play the stalker," he chuckle

ARIAThe air in the living room was vibrating. That was the only way to describe it. Luca didn't just stand in a room; he occupied it, his presence heavy and demanding.I kept my focus on the babies, trying to ignore the way my skin prickled under his gaze."The North District isn't cheap, Aria," he said, his voice dropping into that low, dangerous register. "Even for a studio. Where’d the money come from?""I told you. I earned it." I adjusted the nursing pillow, keeping my eyes on my daughter’s tiny, rhythmic movements."Eight thousand dollars in commissions? Overnight?" He let out a sharp, mocking sound. "I know how the industry works. Nobody gets paid that fast. Unless, of course, they have a 'neighbor' willing to bridge the gap."I felt the heat flare in my cheeks. "If you’re talking about Brandon, just say his name. Don’t be a coward about it.""I’m being realistic," Luca snapped, stepping into my line of sight. "He’s been sniffing around you since you got back. What’s the deal?

ARIAVice President Fergus’s office was smelling of expensive leather and the desperate, cloying scent of a man trying too hard to be "supportive." He sat across from me, his hands steepled, looking at me like I was a high-value asset about to depreciate in real-time."Aria, let’s be reasonable," Fergus said, his voice smooth and practiced. "The fridge, the security… we can pivot. If the camera makes you uncomfortable, it’s gone by lunch. We want you here. You’re the best copywriter we’ve had in years.""It’s not just the camera. It’s the vibe," I said, leaning back. "I feel like a science experiment in that pantry. And honestly? My kids need me more than this firm needs another catchy tagline for a mid-tier lifestyle brand.""We can offer a flexible schedule. Remote work three days a week?"I stood up, adjusting the strap of my bag. "I’ve made my choice. I need a clean break. No special treatment, no 'Alpha-adjacent' perks. Just a mom who needs to focus on her pups without feeling li

ARIAThe morning light felt like a slap. I woke up with my neck stiff and my heart racing, my eyes darting to the mahogany desk. The papers were still there. The fountain pen was still on the floor where he’d tossed it like a piece of trash.I scrambled out of bed, my feet hitting the cold floor. I didn't care about the chill. I grabbed the folder, my fingers fumbling with the latch.Nothing.The signature line was as blank and mocking as it had been yesterday. No scrawl."That lying, power-tripping bastard," I whispered, the words tasting like ash. I’d spent all of last night swallowing my pride, rubbing the tension out of his shoulders, and playing the part of the dutiful wife just to get him to sign. And he’d just... walked away.I checked the master bathroom. Empty. The bed was cold. He was gone.I didn't wait to process the sting. I grabbed my suitcases, tucked a crying Aurora into her carrier, and headed for the stairs. My son was already in his stroller, looking up at me with w

ARIALuca called me in the late morning, sounding like he’d spent the day chewing on glass and liked the taste."I’ve been thinking," he said, skipping the 'hello' entirely. "You want to work? Fine. I need a personal secretary. Someone who knows my schedule and isn't a total idiot. You start Monday."I was stunned, a half-eaten sandwich frozen in my hand. "A secretary? You want me to fetch your coffee and manage your dry cleaning while you keep me on a six-foot leash?""It’s a six-figure salary. It’s professional. It gets you out of the house but keeps you under my protection.""Protection? Is that what we’re calling it now?" I snapped. "I’m a copywriter. I build brands. I don't book your lunch reservations. I’m not becoming your glorified assistant just so you can keep an eye on me from across the hall.""It's a compromise!" he retorted, his voice hitting that low, dangerous register."No, it’s a takeover. And I’m not for sale." I replied. "I already have a job. I have a life. One th