Semua Bab Alpha, Let's End This Bond!: Bab 71 - Bab 80

ARIAThe heavy door to the mother-and-baby room clicked shut, leaving me in the sudden, peaceful silence of the suite.Luca had just headed back out to the dining room—partly to keep an eye on Hogan, and partly because he knew I needed a second to breathe without his intense gaze on me.The room was quiet now, save for the rhythmic sounds of two very hungry infants.stoI was propped up on the nursing chair, a specialized pillow draped across my lap to support the twins.Adrian was on the left and Aurora was on the right, both of them finally quiet and nursing.Balancing two hungry infants at the same time was basically a magic trick, honestly.One wrong move and the whole "system" would collapse into a chorus of wails."I look like a sow, Camilla," I whispered to my aunt, who was quietly organizing the diaper bag in the corner. "Seriously. Where is the dignity? I’m literally just a walking, breathing milk station right now."Camilla gave me a soft, sympathetic smile. "You look like a

ARIAThe air in the Vanguard Realty office smelled like stale coffee, burnt toast, and the distinct, sharp scent of desperation.I loved it. To anyone else, it was just a mid-range real estate firm, but to me, it smelled like freedom."Aria, right? The new blood?"I looked up from my desk to see a man leaning against my cubicle wall. He was wearing a suit that was a size too small and enough hair gel to reflect the overhead fluorescent lights. This was Manager Serge."That’s me," I said, forced into a polite smile. "Ready to get to work.""Fantastic. We love go-getters." Serge didn't just stand there; he loomed over me.He reached out, resting a hand on the back of my chair, his fingers inching uncomfortably close to my shoulder. "I’ve cleared your schedule for the morning. I figured you and I could spend some quality time going over… the planning department. My office has much better light. And a private espresso machine.""I think I can handle the orientation packet first, Manager S

ARIAThe tension in the study didn’t just break; it detonated.Luca’s hand dropped from my neck as if I’d burned him. He paced the length of the mahogany desk, his shadow stretching long and jagged against the book-lined walls. He looked like a wolf circling a trap."Equal?" he repeated, the word sounding like a curse. "Aria, let’s be real. You’re not doing this for 'self-fulfillment' or 'personality.' You’re doing this because you’re terrified that if you stay here, people will say you’re just another girl who got lucky with an Alpha. You’re obsessed with saving face."The words hit me like a slap. "Saving face? Is that what you think this is?""I know it is," he snapped, turning to face me, his amber eyes glowing with a blunt, cruel honesty. "You’d rather kill yourself working a dead-end job for a paycheck that wouldn't cover the shoes you’re wearing, all so you can tell your little friends you’re an 'independent woman.' It’s a vanity project. You’re just afraid of being laughed at.

LUCAThe moment Aria’s heel clipped the edge of that step, my heart didn’t just skip—it stopped.I saw her life flash before my eyes, or at least the part where she broke an ankle and spent the next six weeks grounding me for it.I caught her, but she didn’t just regain her balance. She collapsed back onto the carpeted stair, huffing like a cornered cat."I’m done," she muttered, rubbing her foot. "I am officially done. This gown is a cage, these shoes are weapons, and I should be at home with a laptop, not playing dress-up for your corporate buddies.""You aren't done," I said, my voice low. I didn't wait for an invite. I swept one arm under her knees and the other behind her back, hoisting her into the air."Luca! Put me down! You’re going to wrinkle the silk!""The silk will survive. Your pride might not if I let you crawl to the car," I grunted, marching toward the door. She was light, but the way she was squirming made her feel like a literal firecracker."You shouldn't have forc

LUCAMy phone buzzed in my clutch—a frantic, rhythmic hum. I pulled it out, frowning at the screen. A long string of digits from an overseas area code. I knew that number. Or rather, I knew the pattern of it. It was the country code for where Brandon had moved all those years ago."Aria? Is that you?"I looked up. Brandon was standing by the fountain in the VIP gallery, away from the thrumming bass of the ballroom. He looked different—older, broader—but when he smiled, I saw the teenage boy who used to jump the fence into my garden."Brandon," I whispered, the name feeling like a ghost on my tongue.He reached out, taking both of my hands in his. His palms were warm, lacking the calloused, electric heat of a werewolf’s touch. He was purely human, and for a second, it felt like I could breathe normally."I couldn't believe it when I saw you from the stage," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I thought I was hallucinating. You look... God, Aria, you look incredible. How long has it