Chapter 130 The Face He Couldn’t Place

Alpha Victor wasn’t taken away in handcuffs, but the Silix investigators waiting at the door made one thing clear. This was no courtesy interview.

Robert and Jennifer watched him leave without saying a word. Blaming Serena wouldn’t help now. Victor was old, proud, and used to his Alpha status opening every door. A prolonged investigation would damage his reputation with Silix, the Pack Council, and the entire Winthrop Pack.

They needed favors. Serena knew it.

She texted Vincent Crawford first.

Then she messaged Alpha Sebastian, carefully framing everything as a sacrifice she had made for him, Hale Pack, and the future they were supposed to share. She never asked him to come.

She only left him with enough guilt to make ignoring her difficult.

Serena had always believed guilt was just love with a leash.

That evening, she invited Vincent to a revolving restaurant above downtown. The city glittered beyond the windows, all glass towers, headlights, and fading California light.

She had dressed for an old memory.

A backless silver dress. A white faux-fur wrap. Red lips and blonde waves over one shoulder.

It was almost the same look she had worn the night they met. He had never forgotten.

When Serena approached, her floral scent reached him first.

Vincent stood. "Serena."

He pulled out her chair.

"Thanks, Vincent." She slipped off the wrap and sat. "I’m sorry it took me so long to thank you properly. Grandpa got dragged into this because of me, and his health took a hit."

"How is Alpha Victor?"

"He came home this morning. Physically, he’s fine." She gave him a small smile as dinner arrived. "Let’s eat before it gets cold."

She started cutting her steak. Vincent silently traded plates with her. Her steak was already cut into neat pieces.

Serena looked up.

"Take mine," he said. "I’ll handle yours."

Her smile softened. "You keep this up and your future mate is going to be spoiled rotten."

"Haven’t found her yet."

He watched her take a bite and felt a quiet satisfaction he didn’t bother to hide.

Then Alpha Sebastian’s name crossed his mind, followed by Eira’s.

He already knew Alpha Sebastian and Eira had filed their Two Mate Bond Dissolution certificates. He kept that to himself.

"Have you seen Sebastian since you were released?"

Serena’s knife stopped. "Why?"

"So he hasn’t checked on you."

"He’s busy."

"Busy chasing Eira, from what I hear."

Her appetite vanished.

"Vincent."

He raised a hand. "All right. I’m dropping it."

They ate in silence for a few minutes.

When the dessert menus arrived, Serena lifted her wineglass.

"I really do owe you. You made calls and helped keep things from getting worse. I don’t even know how to repay you."

"You helped me once. I returned the favor."

"Once?" She gave him a sad smile. "I stopped you from drinking one bad cocktail. You’ve helped me more times than I can count."

Vincent took a sip of wine.

Serena waited until he set the glass down before making her move.

"Grandpa wants you to come to dinner at the Winthrop residence. He’d like to thank you in person."

Vincent looked genuinely surprised.

Victor still led the Winthrop Pack, and an invitation from him was never just dinner. It was a formal gesture between Packs, usually followed by a favor, a negotiation, or both.

"When?"

Serena didn’t answer right away. "How long are you staying in Palo Alto?"

"Why?"

"Grandpa may not be free for a few days. I’m not sure how long." Her voice softened. "Something happened."

Vincent’s expression sharpened. "What happened?"

Serena looked down and blinked hard. "He told me this morning to invite you. Then Silix sent investigators to the house and asked him to come in for questioning."

Vincent’s face settled into a lawyer’s calm.

He didn’t need the details. If Silix was looking into unauthorized access, personnel recommendations, and influence over the Sovereign Processor Initiative, Victor’s position as Winthrop Alpha would not protect him for long. Pack rank opened doors. It did not erase a paper trail.

Serena’s eyes filled with tears. "This is all my fault. If I were as talented as Eira, no one would be tearing me apart on every research board and Pack channel in California."

"Eira is good," Vincent said. "That doesn’t make you useless. You have your own work."

Serena lowered her gaze. "I just hate that I can’t help Grandpa."

Vincent watched her for a moment, then flagged down the waiter. A few minutes later, a chocolate dessert arrived.

"Don’t spiral," he said. "I’ll deal with it."

Serena looked up. "You will?"

"Victor invited me. I’m not going to ignore a senior Alpha’s hospitality. I’ll stay in Palo Alto until I speak with him."

"What about your cases?"

"I can work remotely. No hearings this week."

Relief flashed through her eyes, quickly covered by a fragile smile. "Thank you, Vincent."

"That’s enough thank-yous for one night."

They finished dinner without further trouble.

By the time Vincent paid and they reached the elevator, Serena had almost convinced herself the evening had gone exactly as planned.

The doors opened.

Lila stood inside with one arm linked through Eira ’s. She had been laughing about the restaurant’s seafood tower, but her smile vanished the moment she saw Serena.

"Well, this is awkward," Lila said. "Or maybe just bad timing."

Serena’s expression froze.

Eira stood quietly beside Lila, sea-gold waves falling over her shoulders, rimless glasses catching the light. She wore nothing flashy, but there was a clean, untouchable composure to her that made Serena’s sequins suddenly feel loud.

Lila’s gaze slid over Serena with open disgust.

"Didn’t expect to run into Sebastian’s favorite side quest tonight."

Serena’s face went white.

Vincent’s jaw tightened.

"Miss Sterling," Serena snapped, "try having a little class."

Lila smiled sweetly. "I would, but you used up the room’s supply pretending you weren’t sleeping with a bonded Alpha."

Vincent stepped forward, his eyes on Lila but his attention strangely pulled toward Eira.

"Careful," he said. "Accusations like that can get ugly fast."

Lila arched a brow. "So can the truth. Funny how that works."

Eira didn’t speak.

She only looked at Vincent once, calm and unreadable.

And Vincent, who had seen her in news clips and photos, felt that odd sense of recognition hit him harder in person.

It wasn’t just familiarity.

It was specific.

Her eyes. The bridge of her nose. The composed, almost scholarly restraint behind her glasses.

She looked like his father, Henry Crawford, in the old family photographs.

Not exactly.

But close enough to make Vincent’s pulse hesitate.