Chapter 109 The Handoff

Eira took a sip of her juice. "Dinner. My treat."

Alpha Killian’s eyes stayed locked on her. "And?"

She hesitated.

Couldn’t really pull the same card three times in a row. That’d just look lame.

No backup plan. No clever comeback loaded up and ready to fire.

So she flipped it back on him. "What do you want, then?"

Alpha Killian looked away, voice flat, case closed. "I’ll let you know."

Eira let it drop. Went back to eating, watched him grab his glass and make the rounds. Toasted Beatrice. Toasted the Davies couple. Toasted Claire.

Same line, every single time. Short. No frills.

"To you."

That’s all he said.

Didn’t match the guy everybody talked about behind his back. Cold. Ruthless.

The kind of Alpha who never wasted breath on small talk, who looked at a room full of people and picked out the weak link before anybody’d even shaken his hand. Rumor had it he’d once stared down a rival pack’s Alpha at a business dinner without blinking once, didn’t say a word, just let the guy sweat through his suit.

Then again, his mom was Seraphina Sterling. The kind of woman who lit up a room and made you feel like the only person in the world when she talked to you.

Made a little more sense, seeing it that way.

--

Dinner wrapped up fast after that.

Claire and Martin cleared plates, stacking them with a soft clatter. Davies rolled his sleeves up past his forearms, grabbed a dish rag off the counter like he’d done it a hundred times in this exact kitchen.

"You don’t need to do that," Eira said, reaching to take the rag from him.

"Dishwasher," Alpha Killian cut in, right on her heels, not even looking up from where he stood by the counter.

Too in sync. Like they’d planned it.

Davies froze mid-reach, rag still dangling from his fingers. He glanced over at the sleek built-in unit tucked under the counter, brand new, still had a faint smell of fresh plastic and metal.

"Huh." He set the rag down slow, wiped his hands on his jeans instead. Raised an eyebrow at Eira. "You bought that yourself?"

"Actually, Mr. Sterling did."

"Mr. Sterling?" Davies went quiet for a second. His gaze bounced between the two of them, lingered a beat too long. Then he just smiled, shook his head, and let it go.

Everyone cleared out fast after that. Martin and Davies went to grab the cars.

Eira walked Beatrice out first.

"Text me when you’re home," Eira said.

Beatrice squeezed her hand, eyes glassy again, something unsaid sitting right behind them.

She didn’t say it, not with Alpha Killian standing right there, but Eira didn’t need the words spelled out. She could read it plain enough off Beatrice’s face.

[The Sovereign Processor Initiative’s finally going public tomorrow. Everything Alaric spent his life working toward.]

Eira’s throat went tight. "I know."

Martin called from the driver’s seat. "Bag in the back, for tomorrow. Don’t forget it."

"Thanks, Martin."

Car pulled away.

Davies’s wife hugged Eira next, quick and warm. "This place just went up in value, you know that?"

"What?"

"Tech world’s about to know your name. This house? Gonna be a landmark." She winked, climbed in.

Claire hung out the back window, waving both arms. "See you tomorrow, Eira!"

"See you tomorrow."

Both cars turned the corner and were gone.

Eira turned back around. Alpha Killian was still standing there.

"I’ll walk you to your car."

"Too cold."

Not pride. Just fact.

His car rolled up seconds later. Driver hopped out, nodded. "Miss Crawford." Opened the door.

Alpha Killian got in, then paused halfway, one hand on the doorframe. Glanced back at her, a lazy kind of smile tugging at his mouth.

"So," he said. "Still owe me for a couple things. You thought about that at all, or you just hoping I forget?"

Eira crossed her arms. "I don’t forget my debts. I just haven’t figured out what you’re worth yet."

"Careful." He slid into the seat, one leg still out the door. "Keep talking like that and I might start charging interest."

"You wouldn’t."

"Try me."

The door shut. Window rolled down halfway, just enough for his voice to carry.

"Get some sleep, Crawford. Big day tomorrow." A beat. "I’ll figure out what I want eventually. No rush."

Window rolled up. Car pulled off, taillights shrinking into the dark.

Eira stood there a second longer than she meant to, arms still crossed, trying to figure out if she’d just gotten teased or threatened. Probably both.

Back inside, Eira locked the door, dropped onto the couch, opened the bag Martin left. Typical Martin.

Guy had spent a whole week trying to drag her to salons and haul tailors to the house. Even lined up a few models built just like her so she could point and pick without trying anything on herself.

She shot him down every time. Never stopped him from stocking her closet anyway.

Grabbed the bag, headed upstairs. Quick shower, brushed her teeth, killed the lights.

Lay down, closed her eyes. Tomorrow was already on its way.

--

Dawn crept in pale and cold.

Alpha Sebastian was already up. Showered, standing in front of his closet, scanning the row of suits and ties.

Something felt off. The clothes weren’t packed as tight as usual. Extra space between the hangers. More room than there should’ve been.

He frowned, walked over to the other side of the closet. That’s where Eira used to keep her things.

Knock knock.

"Alpha Sebastian, breakfast’s ready." The housekeeper’s voice from the hallway.

His father had insisted she stay the night. Didn’t trust restaurant food on the morning of a major bid. Wanted everything controlled. Clean.

"Be right there."

Alpha Sebastian grabbed a tie, knotted it without even looking, headed downstairs.

The table was loaded. Eggs, bacon, pancakes, fresh fruit, a whole spread like she’d cooked for ten people instead of one. He sat down, picked at a few bites, barely tasted any of it.

He’d gotten used to Eira’s cooking. Her timing. The way she remembered exactly how he liked his coffee. Without that, nothing felt right.

The housekeeper hovered nearby, anxious. "Something wrong, Alpha Sebastian? I can whip up something else."

"It’s fine. Not your fault." He stood, grabbed his jacket. "Just used to what my Luna made, that’s all."

Left before she could say anything back.

His assistant was waiting in the lobby when he pulled up.

Alpha Sebastian frowned. "Why are you down here?"

"Finn Carter’s upstairs. In your office."

Alpha Sebastian stopped mid-step, turned around.

Finn Carter. Twenty-three. Alpha Carter’s youngest. The Alpha heir.

Golden boy showing up unannounced on bid day meant one of two things. Either nobody upstairs trusted Alpha Sebastian to close this deal, or a handoff was already in motion. Neither one sat well.

"He say why he’s here?"

"No, Alpha Sebastian."

Alpha Sebastian’s jaw tightened. "It’s fine."

He pushed open his office door. Finn sat in his chair, grinning like he already owned the place.

"Sebastian! Been a while, man."

"Finn."

Finn stood up, casual in a hoodie and jeans, hands stuffed in his pockets. Looked like he’d rolled out of bed twenty minutes ago.

"Dad said you’ve got a big one today. Told me to shadow you. Learn the ropes. You know how it is."

Alpha Sebastian caught that word right away.

Shadow.

Not "help." Not "observe." Shadow.

He kept his face neutral, stuck a hand out. "Welcome aboard."

Finn’s handshake was firm, confident. He checked his watch. "So when do we head out?"

Alpha Sebastian smiled, smooth and controlled.

"Right now."