Chapter 14 Milk

Alpha Killian took the seat at the head of the table. He glanced at Eira and tapped the chair beside his own.

"Here."

Every eye in the room tracked the gesture.

"New assistant, Alpha Killian?" someone asked, fishing.

Alpha Sebastian’s stare drilled into them both. Mostly into Eira.

[She told me she quit. Now she’s riding shotgun for Killian Sterling?]

She had lied straight to his face.

"Recently promoted from admin," Alpha Killian said, smooth as anything. He was clocking the tension between Alpha Sebastian and Eira with quiet interest.

Alpha Sebastian looked one bad comment away from cracking a molar. Eira sat there like the man was a stranger she’d been seated next to at a wedding.

Whatever was going on in that marriage, it was circling the drain.

Another guest jumped in. "And your assistant’s name?"

"Eira Crawford," Alpha Sebastian answered before she could open her mouth.

The man raised his eyebrows. "You two know each other?"

Eira looked up. Honestly, she wanted to hear this one too.

"We’re acquainted." Alpha Sebastian smiled. Thin. Polished.

Two words.

That was it.

Eira dropped her gaze, one corner of her mouth curling into something cold. Ten feet away, and the man still wouldn’t cop to the marriage in public.

Thank the Moon Goddess the divorce paperwork was already moving.

"Is that right?" Alpha Killian turned the question to her.

"Yes, just acquainted," Eira said.

Alpha Killian’s silver eyes went a shade darker. "Small world."

For the rest of the dinner, the table addressed her as Miss Crawford — and quietly did the math.

Anyone Alpha Killian parked at his right hand brought something to the table.

Not cute, not flashy, but the kind of cool, self-contained smarts that made people lower their voices without knowing why.

"So that’s Alpha Killian’s type," someone murmured to Alpha Sebastian.

"Knock it off. Miss Crawford is married."

"And you know that how?"

Alpha Sebastian had nothing.

"That’s what I thought. You’re batting oh-for-two on straight answers tonight, buddy."

Alpha Sebastian didn’t bother replying. He drank again. For a guy who drank as much as he did, two glasses was basically water.

But Eira used to worry when he drank. Back home, two glasses in, she’d quietly swap his wine for water and slide a plate of food closer. No lecture. No fuss. Just done.

He was two glasses deep now. And she sat across the table working through her plate, calm and steady, without one glance his way. She wasn’t performing indifference — she genuinely did not care.

Something hot crawled up the back of his neck.

He set his glass down harder than he meant to.

Every head at the table turned.

Alpha Killian glanced up, unhurried. "Is Sterling hosting the tech expo a problem for you, Hale?"

"Not at all." Alpha Sebastian drank half his glass in one go.

Alpha Killian waited until it touched the table.

"I heard you were married, Hale."

Alpha Sebastian froze. His eyes snapped to Eira.

[Did she tell him?

No. She wouldn’t dare.]

One of the business partners laughed. "That’s news to me. If Sebastian got married, we’d have heard about it — the man’s schedule is ninety percent work dinners. When would he even... OW."

He stopped mid-sentence. Alpha Sebastian had found his foot under the table.

"Thanks for the interest," Alpha Sebastian said, smile tight. "But my personal life isn’t worth the airtime. To the expo." He raised his glass.

Alpha Killian lifted his about an inch. The bare minimum.

"There’s a networking gala after the expo," he added. "Plus-ones expected."

A round of absolutely and wouldn’t miss it went around the table.

Glasses went up. Eira reached for her wine.

Alpha Sebastian’s face twitched.

He couldn’t stop himself.

"Miss Crawford doesn’t drink."

The table went quiet.

Eira’s hand stopped halfway.

"Better to get her something else," Alpha Sebastian went on, already waving down the server. "Milk, maybe."

Milk.

A grown woman. At a contract dinner. In front of clients.

Someone coughed into a napkin. The Mercer partner suddenly found his bread plate fascinating.

The server kept a blank face and set a glass of milk in front of her.

Eira stared at it.

So Alpha Sebastian did remember things about her. Her tolerance. Her old habits.

He just used them the way he used everything about her. At the worst possible moment. For his own comfort. Without asking first.

She left the milk right where it was.

Then she picked up her wine and took a slow sip, eyes on no one.

Somewhere down the table, a laugh got smothered.

Alpha Sebastian’s jaw locked. Cedar spiked into the air, sharp and sour.

Beside her, Alpha Killian’s mint stayed perfectly calm. He raised two fingers at the server.

"She’ll have what I’m having."

The sommelier appeared with the bottle from Alpha Killian’s end of the table. The one that cost more than everyone’s entrées combined. He filled her glass.

Eira glanced over.

Alpha Killian was already reading the contract file again, like nothing had happened.

Dinner came out family style. A seared scallop platter sat at the far end, and Eira had been quietly tracking it all night. Every time it made it halfway down the table, it arrived empty.

She had given up on it.

Then the platter stopped right in front of her.

She looked up. Alpha Killian’s hand rested on the edge just long enough for her to serve herself. Then it was gone.

Five seconds, start to finish.

The whole exchange had been quiet enough that no one else caught it.

No one except Alpha Sebastian.

Across the table, he’d seen all of it. The wine. The scallops. The five seconds.

"Excuse me." Alpha Sebastian stood abruptly. "Restroom."

The second he cleared the room, he pulled out his phone and fired off a text.

[Outside. Now. We need to talk.]

Her battered phone lit up on the table.

Eira glanced at the screen and seriously considered leaving him on read.

Then the second message landed.

[Come out or I stop playing nice. Forget the one-month notice. I’ll walk back in there and tell Sterling you’re done. Tonight.]

Eira stared at the words.

[He’d do it, too. He’d spent the entire dinner refusing to claim her — but he’d burn the marriage as a weapon the second it got him what he wanted.

One ugly scene in front of Alpha Killian and the Mercer partners, and the job was finished. Her cover along with it.

No job meant no reason to leave the house every morning. Sebastian would want her home all day.

And at night, she’d be back to front-row seats for the Sebastian-and-Serena show.]

Her skin crawled just thinking about it.

She stood.

"Excuse me, Alpha Killian. Restroom."

Alpha Killian’s eyes flicked up. He gave a low hum of acknowledgment, but something in his face had gone cold.

Alpha Sebastian had walked out two minutes ago. He could do the math.

Eira didn’t have the bandwidth to worry about it.

The moment she stepped out of the private room, a hand clamped around her wrist and hauled her down the hallway.

"Let go of me, Sebastian."

He didn’t. He steered her past the coat check and out a side door, into the dim corner by the valet stand. Only then did he let go.

Then he spun on her.

"So this is you quitting, huh?" His voice was low and boiling. "You didn’t quit. You got a bump to the top floor. Nobody goes from pushing paper to the executive suite overnight. Nobody."

He stepped in closer.

"So level with me, Eira. What else have you been keeping from me?"