Contract Mate: The Rejected Luna and Her Cursed Alpha.

Chapter 11: No Precaution Is Too Much.

Tomas should’ve known that nothing with Mia would ever be simple.

Across the break room, she stared him down, arms tightly crossed over her chest, chin slightly raised, expression stern. Funny how that tough-girl stance of hers still got under his skin, even after all those years of silent war between them.

For a second, Tomas felt the urge to walk over, look deep into those intense brown eyes, and ask if—just once—they could actually work as a team. Like they used to. Back when they were best friends, when what they had ran so deep it almost seemed strong enough to survive even the stupid bet his teenage self had thought was a good idea to make about her.

But Tomas knew the past was long gone, buried the day Mia—still for reasons he didn’t understand—cut him off completely.

Eventually, Tomas had just stopped trying to make sense of it. Just like now, he was giving up on trying to create any sort of peaceful alliance with her.

They weren’t like that anymore. And if Mia wanted to turn this fake relationship into just another battlefield between them, fine. Tomas would play along.

“We can keep it strictly contractual, same as I would with whichever candidate ended up being chosen.” His hands slipped into his pockets, the casual posture gone, replaced by a cooler, more professional edge. After all, Mia had made it crystal clear—this was just business.

“Great idea.” Her tone was clipped as she turned to refill her coffee. She always had that habit of downing it like water when stressed, and Tomas could only imagine how wound up she must’ve been right now. After all those years of pushing him away, avoiding him at all costs, here she was, about to officially become his fake mate.

For a second, Tomas almost smiled. But of course, he didn’t.

“Do you still have a copy of the contract you were planning to use, or did your cousin steal all of them?” Her voice floated back with a bite of sarcasm, and when she looked over her shoulder, a smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth. “By the way, genius move leaving the contract—aka solid evidence of what you were up to—inside your office. You know, the one located inside your family’s company.” She shook her head, disbelief flickering in her eyes. “Really brilliant.”

“How was I supposed to know they’d go through my office?” Tomas shrugged, masking how much the whole thing infuriated him. James, his nosy, obnoxious cousin, was going to pay for that little invasion of privacy—but Tomas would deal with him later.

“They’re your family, Tomas. You should know by now they’re capable of anything.” Mia brushed past him, her steaming coffee cradled between both hands.

Tomas watched her as she walked away. He hated admitting she was right—but she was absolutely right. His family was capable of anything. Proof of that was how his mother had used the death of his twin sister against him earlier. Even knowing how much it hurt. Even knowing that back then, Tomas had only been a child—powerless to do anything to help his sister.

“So, do you actually have a private place for us to talk, or are we going to have to leave the building?”

Mia’s voice snapped him back to reality. Tomas blinked and adjusted the already straight sleeves of his suit. When he turned to her, that ambiguous smile was tugging at his lips—the kind he knew drove her absolutely mad.

“We can talk at my apartment. I promise it’s very secure.” He added a wink, and, as expected, a flush crept up Mia’s face while her eyes sparked with irritation.

“If you start with that, I swear I’ll—”

“This way, darling.” He walked past her, tone suddenly all business. “The company has a private room. Top-tier stuff. It’s where the confidential meetings happen.”

“And how do you know no one will hear us in there?”

Her footsteps echoed behind him as he led the way, but he didn’t glance back.

“The walls are soundproof, and the place is regularly swept for bugs and surveillance,” he replied evenly. “The Akello would never allow the kind of conversations that happen in that room to leak.”

***

The conference room on the second-to-last floor of the building—fondly nicknamed the secret dome by Tomas’s father—felt cold. And not just from the temperature controlled by the metal-paneled walls. The whole atmosphere seemed designed for conversations that demanded emotional distance, which made it the perfect setting for the little meeting they were about to have.

Though there was a long table in the center surrounded by comfortable chairs, Mia had chosen to remain standing. The white ceiling light cast sharp shadows across her face, her eyes looked colder than usual, the wall she kept between them feeling even higher now.

Tomas crossed his arms and let himself sink into one of the angular chairs, making a point to keep his gaze fixed on her.

She flipped through the contract papers with steady fingers, like she was closing some random business deal—and maybe, to her, that’s all it really was. No hesitation. No unnecessary pleasantries.

Of course not. This wasn’t personal for her—it was professional. She’d made it clear she wasn’t doing this for him. It wasn’t compassion or some old sense of loyalty. It was strategy. Mia was always calculating. Always thinking three steps ahead.

“Clause five: no physical contact beyond what’s necessary to keep up the illusion. I want that added in as a precaution.” Her voice came cool and composed as she slid the papers toward him.

Tomas nodded slowly, his eyes scanning her face as he pretended to read. She’d pulled her hair into a ponytail the moment they arrived—something she’d done since they were teenagers, like every loose strand was a threat to her authority. That, and something else in her movements—some barely-contained hesitation, maybe a memory lingering in her fingertips—was something he still recognized all too well. The ghost of the girl who used to laugh easily and run barefoot through the woods with him. The girl who used to sneak out at night—on his worst nights—just so he wouldn’t be alone.

But that girl had disappeared years ago.

And the boy who waited up for her all those nights... he was gone too.

“Don’t you think this is a little... over the top?” He flipped the page in his hands.

Mia’s gaze locked onto his. “With you, no precaution is too much.”

Cold. The sharp edge beneath her words hit him like a slap.

And she pressed on, listing deadlines, boundaries for their staged public appearances, the need to prearrange times—all with the precision of someone planning a military operation.

Tomas did his best to stay focused, keeping his expression neutral. But his eyes betrayed him. They drifted to the contours of her face, to the subtle, almost imperceptible motion of her fingers tightening around the pen, like she was holding herself together the entire time. Her composed exterior was a shield, but he’d been trained to see through those.

And unfortunately for Mia, her defenses had always felt more like a challenge to him.

“What if... rumors start to spread?” His fingers laced together on the table.

She looked up for the first time in minutes, brows lifting slightly. “Rumors?”

He gave a small shrug. “With all these restrictions, things might come off too mechanical. People might start thinking we’re not a real couple.”

Her stare hardened. “And what do you suggest? We need rules.”

“Maybe not all of these.” He paused, searching for the right balance. As much as he liked to push her buttons—and he really did—he knew she had to be on board for this act to work. He’d never wanted the Akello alpha title, but now that it was his, losing it wasn’t an option—especially not because of a absurd fake mate arrangement. “When we’re in public, we’ll be a couple. We’ll put on our best show. No rules when it comes to acting.”

Mia’s posture stiffened, her eyes narrowing. “We will have rules.” The words were firm, final. Before he could argue, she added, “You better start thinking about your own. And by the way, I need a job.”

His brows furrowed. “What?”

“If I’m staying in this pack, I need a way to support myself.”

“I’m going to pay you to be my mate—”

“No, you’re not." She cut him off, her tone razor-sharp. "I’ve always thought this whole thing was insane, and I told you—I’m doing this for my people. I’m not taking a paycheck to pretend.”

“Mia, that’s not really necessary. You can just—”

“If you want me in this lie...” She leaned in, eyes unwavering. “Get me a damn job. And draw up the rules for our deal.” Then she straightened, turned toward the door, and walked out without a glance back.

Tomas remained seated, his gaze lingering on the space she’d just vacated. A quiet laugh slipped past his lips.

Well, she wanted rules. She wanted him to be professional.

He could do that.

Didn’t mean he couldn’t make this whole charade a little more interesting, though.