Chapter 6: The Reminder

The accusation slams into me like a physical blow.

"I didn’t know!" I say, and god, I sound desperate even to my own ears. "I swear I had no idea who you were."

"Convenient."

"It’s the ’truth’." My hands curl into fists on my thighs. "You think I wanted this? You think I wanted to wake up and find out I’d..." I cut myself off, breathing hard.

"Fucked your sister’s fiance?" he supplies smoothly. "Yes, I imagine that was quite the shock."

"It was." The words come out bitter. "Trust me, it was."

"The truth," he says, and laughs without humor. "You expect me to believe that this was all just... what? Coincidence? Bad timing?"

"Yes! God, yes!" I lean forward without thinking. "What part of ’I was blackout drunk’ don’t you understand? I don’t even remember.." I stop, face burning, because that’s a lie. I remember every second of it.

His eyebrow arches. "Don’t you?"

Fuck.

"I mean Original.. I mean.." I’m fumbling, panicking, I force myself to stop, take a breath. "I was drunk, you were there, and it happened. That’s ’all’ it was."

"How stupid do you think I am?"

"I don’t.." Frustration explodes through me. "I don’t ’think’ about you at all! I didn’t even know you ’existed’ until this morning!"

Something flashes in his expression. Anger? Surprise?

"Is that so?"

"Yes!" My voice rises before I can stop it. I lower it, aware of the curtain, the people outside. "You think I planned this? You think I ’wanted’ to destroy my sister’s engagement? My family’s partnership? Everything?"

"People do worse for less."

"Not me." My jaw clenches so hard it hurts. "I’m not... I didn’t..."

"Then what do you want?"

The question throws me completely off balance.

"Want?"

"Everyone wants something, Runze." He picks up his glass again, swirls the amber liquid. "Money? A better position for your family in the partnership? Perhaps you’d like me to break off the engagement? Make it look like my choice, spare your sister’s feelings?"

"No!" The word comes out too loud, too harsh. "Are you insane? That would destroy..."

"Your family? Yes, it would."

"So why would I.." I press my hands against my face, trying to think through the panic. "Why would I possibly want that?"

"You tell me."

"I ’don’t’." I drop my hands, meet his eyes. "I don’t want anything from you, I just want to forget this ever happened."

"Everyone wants something."

"Well I fucking don’t!" My voice cracks again. "What do you want me to say? That I’ll keep my mouth shut? Fine. I’ll keep my mouth shut, that I won’t ruin your precious engagement? I won’t, I can’t, it would destroy my family too."

The silence that follows feels like drowning.

Then Bael laughs, and this time there’s something genuine in it, something almost... impressed?

"You’re either telling the truth," he says slowly, "or you’re the best actor I’ve ever met."

"I’m not acting." I’m so tired suddenly, exhausted. "I’m just... trying not to ruin everything."

"Good." His voice drops to something dangerous. "Because if you do, if I hear even a whisper of scandal, if my grandmother or my business partners or anyone who matters gets wind of this..." He pauses. "I will destroy you, your reputation, your family’s business, everything. Do you understand?"

I should probably feel more threatened, should probably be terrified.

But mostly I just feel... empty.

"Crystal clear," I say, and it comes out flat. Defeated.

"Excellent." He straightens, shifts back to that cold pleasantness. "Then we have an understanding."

He reaches across the table and picks up the watch.

For a moment, I think he’s going to pocket it and leave.

Instead, he holds it out to me.

"Your wrist."

"What?"

"Give me your wrist, omega."

I hate the way my body responds to that tone, I hate that some part of me ’wants’ to obey. But I extend my hand anyway, jaw clenched, meeting his eyes with all the defiance I can manage even as I give him what he wants.

Bael takes my wrist in his hand, fingers circling it completely, his touch is warm, firm, possessive.

He fastens the watch around my wrist with deliberate slowness, his fingers lingering on my skin.

"A reminder," he murmurs, and his thumb traces over my pulse point. "Of what happened, and what won’t happen again."

My heart is racing, I know he can feel it.

"I don’t want your watch."

"Keep it." His grip tightens slightly. "Consider it payment for your... discretion."

"I’m not a whore."

"No." His eyes meet mine, and there’s heat there now, barely banked. "You’re something far more dangerous."

He releases my wrist but doesn’t move back, we’re leaning across the table, so close I can smell his scent again. Cedar and something darker, that alpha pheromone that makes my body want to respond in ways my mind is screaming at it not to.

"The engagement party is in three days," he says softly. "I expect you to be on your best behavior, smile at your sister, be polite to my grandmother. And Runze..." His lips curve into something sharp and cruel. "Make sure not to open your legs for someone else, it would be terribly awkward to explain."

Heat floods my face. Anger, humiliation, and something else I don’t want to name.

"Fuck you."

"You already did." He leans back, smile widening. "Quite enthusiastically, if I recall."

I stand abruptly, the booth suddenly too small, too hot.

"We’re done here."

He picks up his glass again, completely at ease. "I suppose we are. For now."

I turn to leave, pushing past the curtain.

"Runze."

I stop, don’t turn around.

"Three days," he says quietly. "Don’t make me regret letting you walk out of here."

I don’t respond.

I just walk away, through the bar, past the beautiful people and expensive liquor, out into the cool night air.

My hands are shaking.

The watch sits heavy on my wrist, foreign and expensive and impossible to ignore.

A reminder, he said.

I want to throw it in the gutter.

Instead, I shove my hands in my pockets and start walking home, my heart still racing, my body still humming with that awful, traitorous want.

Three days until the engagement party.

Three days until I see him again.

God help me.