It seemed Elliot needed to leash his jealousy, or it would keep tightening around my life like an overprotective Alpha refusing to release his chosen mate from sight.
After he left, I returned to Francis' office, only to find Erica already there, clinging to my father's sleeve with calculated sweetness, her scent sharp with ambition.
"Dad, I swear I can do everything Anastasia can. Let me work here!" Erica's voice carried forced confidence, but her pack energy trembled beneath it.
"No. Enough. Go home," Francis said firmly, his Alpha tone cutting through the room.
"You're so biased!" Erica snapped, pulling away. "You don't love me at all. All you care about is Anastasia!"
She turned sharply, only to freeze when she saw me. Her resentment hit instantly, raw and territorial.
Francis sighed when he noticed me. "Alright, calm down. We'll talk later."
Then he shifted focus. "Anastasia, has Young Master Presgrave left? Clients are coming this afternoon. You should prepare yourself."
