Marked by the Alpha

Across the Table

I didn’t sleep.

Not even for a second.

The suppressant dulled the worst of the heat, but the ache still lingered under my skin. I spent the entire night pacing the hotel suite, replaying every word Rowan had said. His voice. His scent. The look in his eyes when he said I couldn’t fool him anymore.

He had seen everything.

Worse, he had touched something inside me I didn’t want to acknowledge.

When the morning light broke through the curtains, I was already dressed. My suit was perfect, pressed and dark. My hair was styled. My tie, sharp. Everything about me screamed confidence and control.

But inside, I was a storm.

I arrived at the conference floor before anyone else. The room was high above the city, the windows stretching wide across the skyline. The long polished table stood like a battlefield. At one end, a chair with my name on it. At the other, his.

I stood by the window, trying to slow my breathing.

This meeting meant everything. The investors would decide today whether Reeve Corporation or Vale Industries would win the merger project. Years of work, power, and pride had brought me here.

I would not let last night ruin it.

People began to file in. Suits. Laptops. Papers rustling. Handshakes. Smiles with hidden daggers.

Then he walked in.

Rowan Vale.

Confident. Sharp. His expression calm, unreadable. He wore a navy suit that fit him like it was made for him alone. His hair was slightly tousled, like he hadn’t bothered to tame it completely. But his eyes—they locked onto mine the moment he entered.

He didn’t look surprised to see me standing strong.

But he looked satisfied.

He moved past the others and took his seat at the far end. I sat opposite him without hesitation. Our eyes met for a single, electric second.

The room quieted as the lead investor cleared his throat.

“Let’s begin.”

The meeting started. Figures were presented. Questions were asked. I answered every one clearly, confidently. No one in the room could tell what had happened the night before. Not from me.

But Rowan... he was watching.

Not the way an opponent watches. The way a predator studies.

Every time I glanced at him, he was already looking at me. Calm. Composed. And underneath that, something darker. Like he was remembering things I wished he would forget.

At one point, we were asked to present our final pitches side by side. I stood beside him, facing the investors. I didn’t look at him, not once.

But he leaned just slightly closer, voice too low for anyone else to hear.

“You wore that same suit last night.”

I stiffened.

He chuckled under his breath. “Still smells like you.”

I gritted my teeth. “Focus on the pitch.”

“I am,” he murmured. “But it’s hard to focus when I know how you sound when you fall apart.”

My hand tightened on the remote for the presentation.

I wanted to elbow him. Or walk out. Or say something that would shut him up for good.

Instead, I forced a smile for the investors and delivered my final statement with perfect clarity.

When we returned to our seats, the lead investor turned to us.

“We’ll take the next hour to deliberate.”

The room began to clear.

As I gathered my papers, Rowan stood and walked around the table. He stopped beside me.

“You held it together,” he said quietly.

“I always do,” I replied without looking at him.

He leaned closer. “But for how long?”

I didn’t answer.

I refused to give him the satisfaction.

But the truth was, I wasn’t sure either.

I stayed in the conference room long after the others left. The silence felt safer than the chaos waiting outside. My fingers hovered over the glass of water in front of me, untouched since the meeting began. Everything had gone exactly how it was supposed to. I gave the perfect pitch. My numbers were solid. My voice had not wavered.

But Rowan’s voice still rang in my head.

How you sound when you fall apart.

I pressed my palm against the cool surface of the table, grounding myself. He had no right to speak to me that way, not here. Not when everything I had built was hanging by a thread.

I heard footsteps behind me and didn’t have to look to know who it was.

Rowan always walked like he owned the floor beneath him.

"You should be celebrating," he said casually as he leaned against the wall near the door.

"I will," I answered without emotion. "After they announce the results."

"They’ll choose you," he said. "Your pitch was cleaner. Sharper. You played the room like you always do."

I narrowed my eyes. "So why are you still here?"

"Because I want to know what you're going to do next."

I stood slowly and gathered my papers. "I'm going to win this deal. Then I’m going to keep running my company. Then I’m going to pretend you never saw me lose control."

Rowan didn’t move from the door. His arms were crossed, expression unreadable.

"You act like I have something over you. But I don’t."

I looked at him sharply.

"Don’t lie."

"I’m not," he said simply. "You think I’m going to run to the media? Tell the board? Use it to ruin you?"

"Aren’t you?"

He shook his head. "No. I’m not interested in destroying you. I’m interested in something else."

"And what is that?" I asked quietly.

Rowan stepped forward, slowly, deliberately. He stopped in front of me, his presence like a weight in the air.

"You."

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t.

He stepped closer. His voice dropped lower.

"Not the version you pretend to be. Not the cold executive. I mean you. The one who forgets how to breathe when I get too close. The one who flinched when I said your name last night."

My heartbeat quickened. I hated that he could feel it. Sense it. Read it on me.

"You’re not going to win," I said, barely above a whisper.

He smiled.

"I already am."

The door opened before I could respond. One of the investors peeked in.

"We’re ready to announce the results."

I turned toward the man and nodded once. Then I looked back at Rowan.

His gaze didn’t waver.

Whatever happened next, the battle between us was no longer about business.

It was personal now.