Chapter 19
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Richard stood just inside the entrance of the restaurant, as composed as ever, his suit tailored to perfection, every gesture efficient and unreadable. The hostess blinked like someone had slapped her.
“King…?” she stammered.
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The woman at his side didn’t even acknowledge the hostess–just slipped her arm through his, her laugh low and practiced. She leaned in close and whispered something that made Richard’s mouth twitch into a faint smile, the kind that felt private and polished.
He looked in my direction–just for a second–but it was long enough to know he’d seen me. His eyes landed on mine and slid past like I was nothing more than furniture. No recognition.
- No te
tension. No hesitation. Just the blank, practiced gaze of someone who had no intention of making a scene.
Then he turned back toward the table, the woman still attached to his arm, like I had never been there in the first place.
The hostess turned back to us, visibly flustered. “I’m so sorry, there’s been some confusion. We accidentally gave your reservation to another party-”
She didn’t need to finish. Her eyes flicked toward the table–my table–then dropped to her tablet. There was no getting it back. Not with Richard sitting there. Not with the woman so perfectly settled beside him. Not with the way Richard had just erased me with a blink.
They weren’t going to move. Not for me. Not for anyone.
“No worries,” I said, cutting her off, the words sharp enough to sting my own tongue.
Simon looked at me. “You sure?”
Yeah, I said, already rising. “We’ll try somewhere else.”
He nodded. Calm as ever. “Honestly, this place always felt a little too stiff. I know a better one nearby–no reservations, just real food and quiet booths.”
We walked out without another word. I kept my gaze straight ahead.
But once we hit the curb, I turned.
The warm golden light inside spilled out like an invitation. Inside, people laughed, leaned into each other, sipped from crystal glasses. I stared through the window at Richard’s profile, clean and composed and utterly unreadable. He didn’t look up.
It felt like a different world. And I was done pretending it could ever be mine.
I told myself I didn’t care. That it didn’t matter.
That resolve lasted exactly until the next morning.
411
The image of the Elder collapsing looped in my head. Even though Simon had cleared me, even though the crowd had moved on, I couldn’t. I kept replaying it–his body hitting the ground, the stunned silence, the way the press had turned toward me like they’d been waiting for someone to blame,
So 1 brought flowers–simple, respectful. I’d called ahead. I’d gotten approval.
But when I arrived at the hospital, a man I didn’t recognize stood at the door to the Elder’s room,
“You’re not welcome here,” he said, arms crossed.
“1–I’m sorry?” blinked. “I had an appointment. I called yesterday.”
“Plans changed.” His tone didn’t shift. He didn’t move
I waited, thinking maybe he’d blink. Acknowledge how ridiculous this was. He didn’t.
My fingers tightened around the bouquet as i slowly bent down and placed it on a small table nearby. I turned to leave, throat burning.
1/2
:52 PM P
Chapter 19
The door opened behind me.
Jason.
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He stepped out like he had something important to say, shoulders relaxed, expression polished. A woman followed tlose behind him- plain in appearance but sharp in posture and expression. There was something commanding in the way she moved beside him.
Jason’s eyes landed on me and lit up like he’d been handed a gift.
“That’s her,” he said, turning to the woman. “She’s the one who poisoned the Elder.”
The woman’s eyes narrowed. She took a slow, deliberate step toward me.
“So you’re the one who tried to harm my father.”
The words knocked the air from my lungs. For a second, I thought maybe I’d misheard her–because there was no way this was real, no way this was happening. I hadn’t even made it past the threshold, hadn’t said a word, hadn’t done anything. And now here I was, being accused—again—of trying to kill someone. It was like watching a nightmare on repeat, except this time it had a new cast, and the stakes
were even worse.
I tried to breathe, to answer, but the words caught in my throat and didn’t come. Everything about this was insane, and I could feel the edges of my control starting to fray.
I opened my mouth–nothing came out. And before I could try again, she turned on her heel and disappeared back into the room.
Jason gave me a look. That same smug, warning smirk. A silent threat: stay out of my way.
Then he followed her.
Third Person POV
Jason had always been too good at getting away with things. But after the incident at the fundraiser, he knew he was running out of chances. Richard had pulled him from core projects. He was being left out of strategy meetings. And Jason–Jason needed to matter.
So he adjusted.
He used Richard’s name to make himself sound important. Told the Elder’s daughter he was part of Richard’s trusted circle. That he was there to help. That Amelia wasn’t trustworthy. That she was unstable. A risk.
The elder’s daughter believed him.
She’d never had a mate. She was used to being respected, but not listened to. Jason knew how to fill that gap–how to lean in, how to compliment just enough, how to look like the only man in the room who saw her.
She opened doors. He stepped through them.
He learned the Elder was preparing to retire. That succession talk was quietly beginning.
Jason tried to leverage that knowledge into a permanent position.
Richard shut him down.
Jason tried again–this time, with rumors. Implying Amelia had motive. That she had handed off something tainted.
Nathan caught it and shut it down before it could spread.
So Jason did what desperate people do–he broke rules.
He leaked the Elder’s retirement strategy to outside Alphas, hoping to stir instability. Hoping chaos would open a path forward for him.
When even that didn’t work, he got reckless.
Amelia
I found him late at night.
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D
3:52 PM P P
Chapter 19
The council wing was quiet. Lights dimmed. I’d gone back to retrieve a report I’d left behind.
He didn’t hear me approach. I stopped in the doorway, startled.
hed out like he was halfway through a heist.
Jason stood in front of a secured file cabinet. He had it open. Documents fanned
“Jason?”
He spun, startled–but only for a second. His mask settled fast.
“Amelia,” he said smoothly. “Didn’t expect you.”
“What are you doing?”
He smiled. That polished, confident one. The kind that never quite reached his eyes.
Then, without a word, he drew a blade.
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A silver knife. Jason’s hand didn’t shake as he held it, but mine certainly did. My stomach dropped so hard it felt like the floor had fallen out from under me. This wasn’t just him bluffing or threatening me with words—he was actually doing it. Holding a weapon. Inches from my throat.
The fear came fast and sharp, rushing up my spine and locking my knees in place. My heart thundered in my ears. My breath caught halfway to my lungs. It didn’t feel real–except for the cold edge of the blade pressing into the skin just above my collarbone. That part felt very real.
I didn’t know what to do. Didn’t know how to move without making it worse. All I could think was: this can’t be happening. Not here. Not again.
He closed the distance between us in two steps. The blade pressed to my neck–not hard enough to cut, but hard enough to make my next breath falter.
“You don’t get it,” he said quietly. “This place isn’t about fairness. Never has been. People like us–we don’t rise by waiting our turn.”
You’re insane,” I said, frozen.
“No,” he whispered. “I’m just done losing to people who didn’t earn it.”
My hands stayed at my sides. My mind raced.
And then a voice, cutting and cold, snapped through the corridor:
“What do you think you’re doing?”
Jason froze.
Richard stood in the doorway.
Unmoving, silent, and furious.
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