The Billionaire Alpha

Chapter 11: An Unexpected Deal

Grace spoke with enthusiasm, her eyes bright as she described the significance of one of the pieces she had handled earlier in the day. She leaned forward, her hands moving as she spoke, her excitement clear. It was rare that she got the chance to share her love for history with someone who seemed genuinely interested, and Damian watched her with an amused smile, his eyes never leaving her.

They were seated in a private room of an exclusive restaurant, the table elegantly set, soft music playing in the background. The lights were dim, the atmosphere intimate, but Grace was too wrapped up in her excitement to notice the luxury surrounding her.

“It was incredible,” she said, her voice breathless. “The craftsmanship, the detail—it tells a story about the people who made it, the culture, the time. It’s like holding a piece of history in your hands, and for just a moment, you can almost feel what it was like to be there.”

Damian nodded, his smile widening slightly. “You really do have a passion for this, don’t you?” he said, his voice smooth, almost indulgent.

Grace smiled, about to respond, when she felt her phone buzz in her bag. She glanced down, her smile fading as she pulled out her phone. The screen lit up, showing three missed calls. She frowned, her fingers swiping across the screen to investigate further. They were all from Ollie. A message popped up below the missed calls, and her heart sank as she read it:

Where are you? Townsend is upset. You’re supposed to be here tonight.

Grace’s stomach dropped, her eyes widening as the realization hit her. She had forgotten. She was supposed to be at the auction house, preparing for tomorrow’s auction. She felt a rush of panic, her hands trembling slightly as she put her phone down.

“I need to go,” she said, her voice flustered, her gaze flicking to Damian. “I was supposed to be working tonight. I completely forgot—”

Before she could stand, Damian reached out, his hand wrapping around her arm, pulling her back down to her seat. He waved his other hand dismissively, his expression calm, almost indifferent.

“Grace,” he said, his voice cool, “you no longer work in that meaningless, underpaid job.”

Grace blinked, her heart pounding. “What?” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “What do you mean I no longer work there?”

Damian’s gaze didn’t waver, his expression as controlled as ever. “I’ve taken care of it,” he said simply. “You don’t need to worry about that place anymore.”

Grace’s eyes widened, her anger bubbling up. “You quit my job for me?” she said, her voice rising. “Damian, that was my job. How am I supposed to find another one? I loved working with history—”

Damian cut her off, his voice still calm. “Tomorrow, you’ll meet with my business manager to discuss your options. You won’t be without work, Grace. Not with me.”

Grace shook her head, her thoughts racing. “I don’t want to rely on you, Damian,” she said, her voice cracking. “I don’t want to be dependent on you, or any man, for money.”

Damian’s gaze hardened, his eyes locking onto hers. There was a moment of silence, the air between them heavy, before he spoke, his voice firm. “You will only ever rely on me, Grace.”

Grace’s breath caught, her eyes searching his. His expression was unyielding, his eyes dark and intense. She felt a shiver run through her, her heart pounding, her protest dying on her lips.

Then, suddenly, his expression softened, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He leaned back slightly, his gaze still fixed on her. “Tell me,” he said, his voice almost playful. “Is ten a week enough?”

Grace frowned, her confusion evident. “Ten?” she repeated, her brow furrowing. “Ten what?”

Damian said nothing, just watched her, his smile widening ever so slightly.

Grace’s mind raced, trying to understand. And then it hit her—ten thousand. Her eyes widened, her face paling as she whispered, “Ten thousand? Dollars? A week?”

Damian chuckled softly, leaning in closer. He brushed a gentle kiss against her cheek, his lips warm against her skin. “That should be plenty to cover your daily needs,” he said, his voice smooth, almost teasing. “For anything larger, you only need to ask.”

Grace nodded slowly, her thoughts a jumble, the words ringing in her ears—ten thousand dollars. She felt herself sink back into her seat, her eyes staring blankly ahead as she tried to process it all. Damian’s control, his confidence, the money—it was all so much, so overwhelming.

She glanced at Damian, her heart pounding. His eyes were still on her, his expression satisfied, as if this was exactly the reaction he had expected. Grace swallowed hard, the realization settling in. She was stepping into a world she barely understood, a world where Damian Wolfe held all the power. And she didn’t know if she was ready for what that meant.

The waiter arrived with their food, setting down plates of exquisite dishes that looked more like works of art than meals. Grace managed a polite smile, but her thoughts were still reeling from Damian’s casual mention of ten thousand dollars a week. She couldn’t wrap her mind around it. How could someone live so casually with that kind of money? And more importantly, how had she stumbled into a life so far removed from her own?

She picked at her food, the rich aroma failing to rouse her appetite. Across the table, Damian seemed perfectly at ease, taking a sip of his wine, his movements unhurried, controlled. But then, his gaze shifted, his attention drawn across the room. His expression hardened, his jaw tightening as he set his glass down.

“Excuse me,” he said, his voice low. He stood abruptly, striding past Grace without waiting for a response.

Grace frowned, her confusion growing. She turned slightly, glancing over her shoulder, and spotted Damian walking toward someone—Sean, Damian's “Beta”. She recognized him instantly: the blonde-haired, blue-eyed man with the full moon tattoo on his neck. His presence exuded the same rough confidence as before, but this time, his face was tense, his movements sharp.

Grace watched as Damian approached Sean, the two of them speaking in low tones at first, their body language stiff, tense. Then the conversation escalated. Grace couldn’t make out every word, but their voices grew louder, their frustration clear.

“You’re distracted,” Sean’s voice carried across the room, sharp and accusatory. “You need to focus, Damian. The war doesn’t wait for anyone.”

Grace sat frozen at the table, her thoughts racing. The word Sean had shouted—war—echoed in her mind, sending a chill down her spine. What war? Damian’s wealth, his power, his control over everything around him—it all seemed so much darker now, so much more dangerous. For a fleeting moment, she wondered if she had made a mistake letting herself get pulled into Damian’s orbit. What if his fortune wasn’t tied to legitimate business ventures but something far worse? Drugs? Weapons? Organized crime?

The possibility sent a wave of unease washing over her. She’d always been careful, always avoided anything that felt even remotely risky. Yet here she was, tangled up with a man whose life seemed to be filled with secrets she couldn’t begin to understand.

Grace’s fingers tightened around the stem of her wineglass, her gaze flicking back toward Damian and Sean. Beta. Sean had been introduced as Damian’s “beta,” but that word didn’t make sense in any business context she could think of. What kind of operation used terms like that?

Her heart pounded as a thought took root in her mind—maybe she needed to find out for herself. Damian clearly wasn’t going to explain anything unless he wanted to, and she wasn’t the type to sit back and wait. If she could somehow speak to Sean, maybe he’d be more forthcoming. He didn’t seem like the type to sugarcoat things, and he’d already shown a willingness to challenge Damian.

But how could she do that? Grace doubted Damian would just let her have a casual chat with his so-called second-in-command. She’d have to be careful, subtle. She didn’t want to make Damian suspicious, not when she was already in so deep.

Grace leaned back in her chair, her mind spinning. She needed to know more—not just about Damian’s fortune, but about the world he seemed to be hiding from her.

Her eyes darted to Damian, who glanced briefly back at her. His expression was unreadable, but there was something in the way he looked at her—something that made her stomach twist. He turned back to Sean, his grip tightening on the man’s arm as he leaned in, his words low, controlled, but clearly meant to end the discussion.

Sean’s eyes flared with defiance, but he said nothing more. Damian steered him firmly toward the exit, his grip unrelenting. Grace sat frozen, watching as they disappeared through the door, leaving her alone at the table.