Chapter 159: Reid’s Omega Father-Brad

Reid’s Father was a stark contrast to the intimidating woman beside him. Dressed in a soft, pastel pink cardigan that looked incredibly comfortable, he radiated a gentle, soothing warmth.

He was quiet, offering us a soft, welcoming smile that reached his eyes. Despite the rigid atmosphere, the bond between Reid’s parents was undeniable; even without looking at each other, the casual, seamless way the Alpha matriarch adjusted her posture to block the draft from her Omega husband spoke volumes.

​"You’re late by two minutes, Reid," his mother stated, her cold, level voice immediately snapping the room into focus.

​"The traffic downtown was heavy, Mom," Reid replied, his tone sliding into a casualness that told me he had dealt with this rigid structure his entire life.

He pulled out a chair for himself, leaving me to smoothly pull out my own directly across from him.

​"Sit, please, Captain Evans," Reid’s father said, his voice light and melodious, a gentle balm against his wife’s heavy aura. "Thank you for coming on such short notice. I know how busy the team’s schedule must be."

​"It’s no trouble at all, Mr. McCoy," I replied, my voice perfectly measured, slipping effortlessly into the polite, diplomatic mask of Captain Evans. "It’s an honor to be invited."

​"An honor?" his mother echoed, a faint, humorless curve touching her lips as the staff began serving the first course—a delicate, chilled soup. "Let’s skip the pleasantries, Captain. We all know why you’re here. The media surrounding my son has become a circus, and as his captain, I expect you to have a tighter leash on your roster."

​Reid’s spoon clapped against the porcelain bowl a little too loudly. "Mom, I told you—"

​"Reid," his father murmured softly, touching his wife’s forearm with a gentle, manicured hand. The Alpha matriarch instantly went quiet, her jaw tightening but her sharp eyes remaining fixed on me.

The Omega looked across the table at me, his expression full of soft curiosity. "We are simply concerned. Reid has always been... passionate. But these rumors about a locker-room romance with a Beta captain? The board members are already asking questions. You should know that the McCoy name carries a certain expectation of lineage."

​"I completely understand your concern, Mr. and Mrs. McCoy," I said, keeping my posture flawless, my arms resting properly at the edge of the table.

I looked directly into the matriarch’s cold gaze without a single tremor of fear. "But I can assure you, the rumors are entirely baseless. The media took a standard piece of locker-room friction out of context to generate clicks. Reid is a dedicated player, and our relationship is strictly professional. I have no intentions toward your son outside of winning the championship."

​Reid choked slightly on his water, coughing into a napkin to hide the sudden, panicked flush on his face.

​His mother watched my face for a long, agonizing ten seconds, searching for a micro-expression, a flash of defensive pheromones, or a stutter. But there was nothing. I was a brick wall.

​"Strictly professional," she repeated, her tone assessing. "Good. Because as I told my son yesterday, this hockey phase is temporary. He has an empire to inherit, and he needs a proper Omega partner from a prominent family to secure that inheritance. A Beta teammate is simply not in the blueprint."

​"Of course," I replied smoothly, a bitter taste rising in my throat that I forced myself to swallow down. "A player of Reid’s caliber belongs in the highest circles. I would certainly not deny him of that." The lump in my throat grew but I acted like it wasn’t even there. ℯ

​"Exactly," his mother said, finally picking up her spoon, signaling that the interrogation part of the evening was temporarily on pause. "I don’t care for the specifics of your game," his mother continued smoothly, her voice cutting through the clinking of silverware like winter frost.

She didn’t even look up from her plate. "Frankly, I find the entire sport crude and beneath our family’s time. I simply care that the McCoy name isn’t dragged into any more pedestrian gossip columns. Keep the circus out of our sight, Captain Evans, and we will have no issues."

​"Understood, Mrs. McCoy," I replied, maintaining my perfect, serene posture.

​Beside her, Reid’s father offered me another small, apologetic smile. For the rest of the meal, the conversation shifted entirely away from hockey.

Under the gentle guidance of the older Omega—Brad—the topic moved to harmless, neutral ground—the changing seasons, the estate’s gardens, and mild high-society happenings that required nothing more than polite nods from me.

Reid stayed mostly quiet, eating aggressively and only speaking in short, clipped grunts whenever his mother addressed him directly.

​Against all odds, the dinner went smoothly. The heavy, suffocating tension from earlier didn’t vanish, but it settled into a predictable, manageable rhythm. By the time the final dessert plates were cleared, the grandfather clock in the corner of the grand dining hall chimed a heavy, resonant nine o’clock.

​I secretly let out a breath, shifting slightly in my seat. We made it. We played the part, kept our distance, and gave them absolutely nothing to dig into. Now, we just had to get back to the car.

​"Well, the meal was wonderful, but we should start heading back," Reid said, pushing his chair back with a loud scrape, practically vibrating with the urge to escape the room. "Kain has to review tape early tomorrow morning, and—"

​"Don’t be ridiculous. It’s already late, and the drive back to the city center takes over an hour," his mother interrupted, setting her napkin down with precise, elegant folds. "The guest wing has already been prepared. You will both sleep over tonight."

​Reid’s entire face tightened, his frozen pine scent instantly turning sharp and rebellious. "Mom, no. We’re leaving. I’m not staying—"

​"Reid, please."

​The soft, fragile voice came from his right. Brad leaned forward slightly, his delicate fingers resting on the edge of the mahogany table.

He looked up at his son with wide, gentle eyes that carried a faint, wistful trace of sadness. "You haven’t been home in months, honey. Your room is exactly how you left it. This is the least you can do for us now that you’re finally here, isn’t it?"

​The stubborn, fierce aura radiating off Reid instantly fractured.