Page 71 of Storm

Alexander sets down his wineglass slowly. "I believe we should consider all options carefully," he says diplomatically. "This isn't a decision to be made hastily."

Father One dismisses this with a flick of his wrist. "You've been absent for months. Your input is noted, but unnecessary."

I notice how they barely acknowledge Alexander, how different their treatment of him is compared to Jonathan. It's subtle, but unmistakable—Alexander is an afterthought, not the heir, not important to their plans.

But they completely ignore Reed.

"If you'll excuse us," Alexander says suddenly, standing with a grace that contradicts the tension I can sense in him. "I believe the omega and her beta should return to the penthouse. They've both had a long day, and tomorrow's preparations will require them to be well-rested."

"Of course," Father Three says, waving a dismissive hand. "Take them. We have actual business to discuss, anyway."

I rise gratefully, nodding my thanks to Alexander as he helps me with my chair. Frankie practically leaps to his feet, relief evident in every line of his body.

"I'll escort them," Alexander tells Jonathan. "You and Reed should stay. The fathers will want to discuss the Blackwood proposal in detail."

A look passes between the twins—something significant, though I can't decipher its meaning. Jonathan nods once, his expression unreadable.

"Good night, Fathers," I say, forcing myself to be polite as Alexander guides me toward the door, one hand hovering near but not touching the small of my back.

"Untrainable. Pack her bags, Alexander." Father Two calls after us.

It takes every ounce of self-control I possess not to turn around and tell him exactly what I think of him. But I made a promise, and as much as it pains me, I keep it, stepping out of the private room with my head high but my mouth shut.

"You did well," Alexander murmurs as we make our way through the main restaurant. "Better than I expected."

"Thanks, I want to kill them," I reply, finally allowing myself to breathe once we're outside waiting for the driver.

"You were amazing," Frankie says quietly from my other side. "I wanted to crawl under the table half the time, but you just... took it."

"Don't get too impressed," I warn him with a weak smile. "I was composing detailed murder scenarios in my head the entire time."

Alexander laughs, the sound lighter than I would have expected given the evening we've just endured. "I'd like to hear those sometime."

The driver brings the car around and we pile in, me besides Alexander, Frankie across from me. After the stifling atmosphere of the restaurant, the car feels like a sanctuary.

"Thank you for getting us out of there," I say as the driver pulls out and into the traffic. "I was about ten seconds away from throwing my dessert at Father Two's face."

"I could tell," Alexander replies with a small smile. "Your scent was shifting despite the perfume. Another minute and even they would have noticed your anger."

"Nine alphas," I say, still processing the horror of what they were discussing. "They’re going to sell me to nine alphas."

Alexander's fists ttighten. "It won't happen," he says firmly. "Jonathan won't allow it."

"Doesn’t sound like he has a choice?" I challenge. "Then what?"

Alexander glances at me, something fierce and protective flashing in his eyes. "Then I won't allow it."

The declaration hangs in the air between us, heavy with promise. Before I can respond, Alexander's phone pings with an incoming message. He pulls it from his jacket. His face goes pale as he reads the screen, his scent spiking with alarm. Without a word, I grab the phone.

The message is from Jonathan: "TAKE THEM ALL. GET OUT NOW. YOU KNOW WHERE."

"What's happening?" I ask, fear rising in my throat. "Alexander, what does this mean?"

"We need to go,” he says to the driver. "Now."

“What’s happening?” Frankie asks, when Alex doesn’t answer me.

"We need to get Rook," his voice tight with tension. "And then we're leaving the city."