Chapter 167: Because I Know My Alpha Loves Me...

The office is quiet, almost unnaturally so.

Files are scattered across the desk like the remains of a careful battle. Open. Half-read. The silence presses in from all sides, thick and patient, waiting for something to break it.

I sit in my chair, leaning back against the soft leather, the weight of the day settling deep in my bones. One file rests open in my hand, but my eyes have stopped reading. The words blur at the edges, slipping away from meaning like water through my fingers. I rub my eyes lightly, the pads of my fingers pressing against the tired ache behind my lids.

I feel sleepy.

The thought arrives gently, unbidden, like a visitor who knows they’re welcome. I’ve been pushing through for a while.

I need to focus. The new project is waiting. But my body is pulling me elsewhere, toward a rest I cannot seem to reach.

I slept well last night, yet somehow, I still feel exhausted. For just a moment, I let myself close my eyes.

Just a moment. Just to rest.

Then I feel them.

Two hands. Warm. Deliberate. Settling on my shoulders with a weight that is both grounding and unsettling. The pressure is gentle at first—soft, almost questioning—then begins to move in slow, intentional circles, working through the tightness with practiced patience.

The familiar scent wraps around me like a second skin—soft, warm, carrying something that tugs at the edges of my consciousness.

Silas.

I don’t open my eyes. My voice emerges low, rough from the stillness.

"What are you doing here?"

His breath ghosts against my ear, warm and intimate, his voice a low murmur that seems to vibrate through the air between us.

"Do I need a reason to come see my Alpha?"

I open my eyes slowly, letting the world come back into focus. I tilt my head, looking up at him. His face hovers above mine—too close, close enough to see the flecks of gold in his brown eyes, the soft curve of his smile, the way his gaze lingers on me.

"Didn’t I tell you not to disturb me when I’m working?"

His smile deepens. He pouts—exaggerated and theatrical, like a child who’s been denied his favorite toy. His lower lip pushes out in a way that is both ridiculous and utterly disarming.

"But I can’t live without my Honey."

I straighten in my chair, setting the file aside with a soft, deliberate thud. He moves around to stand in front of me, leaning back against the edge of the desk, his hands resting casually on the polished wood. The pose is effortless, practiced—as if he belongs here, as if the space between us has always been his to fill.

"I was missing you," he says simply, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. "So I came to see you."

He gestures toward the bag resting on the low table between the couches—a simple, unassuming thing, but somehow carrying the weight of his attention.

"I brought you fresh juice. I made it myself." A pause, a soft emphasis. "Vitamins, proteins—everything you need."

I glance at the bag, then back at him. His eyes are bright and expectant, like a child waiting for approval.

"It’s been barely three hours since we parted." My voice is flat. "And you were already missing me?"

He nods without hesitation, completely unashamed.

"You’re like a stray dog," I say, the words sharp, but the edge softened by something I refuse to name. "Don’t you have anything better to do than cling to me?"

He shakes his head quickly.

"No. I have one goal in life." His voice drops, soft and earnest. "To make my Alpha happy."

I stare at him for a moment. Then, slowly, a smirk curls at the corner of my mouth.

"If you keep neglecting your business like this," I say, "you’ll end up on the street."

His smile doesn’t waver. He leans forward, reaching for my hand and holding it gently between his palms.

"If I go homeless," he says, his voice light, almost teasing, "my Alpha will protect me."

"Why would I protect you?"

He lifts my hand to his lips and presses a kiss to my knuckles, his eyes never leaving mine.

"Because I know my Alpha loves me."

The words land like a stone dropped into still water. I feel my eyes widen—just slightly, just enough for him to notice. The space between us tightens, charged with something I refuse to name.

Before I can respond—

A knock sounds at the door, and it opens.

Ian steps in, a file held carefully in his hands. He stops mid-stride as soon as he sees us, his eyes taking in the scene—Silas leaning close, my hand still caught in his. He quickly lowers his gaze, his professional composure settling back into place.

"Sir, I sincerely apologize for disturbing you, but..." He hesitates for a moment, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features. "These are the details for the International Alpha Leadership Conference. Mr. Chairman’s secretary sent them for your review. They’re urgent, so please take a look."

I quickly withdraw my hand from Silas’s and nod slowly.

Ian steps forward, setting the file on the desk with careful precision.

"The conference is being held in Wii Country, as usual. Your departure is scheduled for tomorrow morning."

"Understood."

He bows again—a quick, respectful dip of his head. "I apologize again for the interruption."

His eyes flicker briefly toward Silas before he lowers them again. Then he steps back and closes the door behind him with a soft, careful click.

I reach for the file, flipping it open and scanning the details with practiced efficiency. The words are familiar, routine—a distraction from the weight of Silas’s gaze still resting on me.

His voice is calm, but I can hear the curiosity beneath it, the barely contained eagerness.

"Where are you going?"

"Alpha Leadership Conference." I turn a page, my eyes tracing lines I don’t fully see. "This year, I’m going in Dad’s place."

His voice shifts, a subtle current of intention running beneath it.

"I want to come with you."

I don’t look up. "No. I’m going alone."

"I want to go with you."

"No means no."

"I want to—"

I close the file slowly, setting it aside with deliberate care. Then I meet his gaze.

"Alpha Leadership Conference—they invite all the major business empires." I pause. "Doesn’t Stoneheart Holdings receive an invitation?"

He nods, his expression unreadable.

"They do."

I lean back in my chair, resting my chin on my hand, my head tilting slightly.

"Then go there yourself."

He crosses his arms, his jaw tightening with stubbornness.

"But I want to go with you. As your partner."

"No."

He looks away, clearly annoyed now, his fingers tapping lightly against his arm.

"But I want to..."

Again?

A teasing smile touches my lips.

"What if I don’t take you?"

His arms slowly fall to his sides. He turns back to me, and something in his expression changes. The childish frustration disappears, replaced by something quieter. More deliberate.

His voice drops to a near whisper.

"What would I do..."

He steps forward, gripping both armrests of my chair as he leans closer. His face hovers inches from mine, his warm breath brushing against my lips.

"What would I do..."

The words are barely a whisper now, intimate enough to make the space between us feel suddenly smaller.

"I’d tie you up. And keep you by my side."

Our eyes lock.

The distance between us feels almost nonexistent, charged with something I don’t want to name.

Tie me up?

I push his chest firmly, sending him stumbling back against the desk, his hips meeting the edge with a soft thud. I rise from my chair, stepping into the space he left, closing the distance between us, the movement fluid and deliberate.

Without thinking, my hand moves to my tie. I loosen it slowly, deliberately, savoring the moment. Then I slide it free from my neck in one smooth motion, the silk whispering against my collar.

I lean over him, my voice low and calm, the words falling like stones into still water.

"Are you threatening me?"

He stays silent, his eyes still locked on mine, unblinking, unwavering.

I take both his wrists, wrapping the silk around them, binding them together in a smooth, practiced movement. My face hovers inches from his, close enough to feel the warmth of his skin, the soft rhythm of his breath.

"Why are you so desperate to come with me?"

My thumb finds his lower lip, tracing it gently, parting it just slightly. The touch is deliberate, unhurried, a question wrapped in silk.

"Answer me."

Before he can speak—

The door opens without a knock. Footsteps echo into the room—too fast, too careless, too loud, breaking the stillness like a stone through glass.

We both turn and look.

Sum stands there, a bouquet of flowers in his hand. His eyes widen, his face frozen in shock as he takes in the scene—me leaning over Silas, his wrists bound with silk, my thumb resting against his parted lips.

The bouquet slips from his fingers and falls to the floor with a soft, muffled thud, petals scattering across the polished marble like fallen stars.

"Ellis..."