CHAPTER 6

1038 Words
XARION'S POV I'm in the backseat of one of my cars, my leg bouncing uncontrollably against the floor. Tap. Tap. Tap. The rhythm is maddening, but I can’t stop. My mind keeps circling the same damn question: Who the hell did they give the sponsorship deal to? The car weaves through Arkon’s congested morning traffic, but it's not fast enough. “Hurry up,” I snap at my driver. “Yes, Alpha,” my driver replies politely, tightening his grip on the steering wheel as he presses down on the accelerator without another word. Even he can probably feel the tension bleeding off me today. My jaw clenches as I glance down at my phone again. Still no updates from Brigg. No follow-up text. No call. Just radio silence. This deal was mine. I’ve fought for it, planned around it, bet millions on it. There’s no way someone swooped in and took it without me knowing, unless it wasn’t just a business move. Unless it was personal. "We're here, Alpha," my driver says as we pull into the private driveway of Valemont Enterprises, and before the tires even stop rolling, I’m out of the car. "Wait here," I say and turn toward the building. The glass doors swing open with a hiss as I stride through the lobby, ignoring the receptionist’s startled greeting as I take the elevator straight to the fifteenth floor. The numbers crawl up slower than a dying clock. Ding. The elevator opens to a hallway, and I make a beeline for the executive meeting room. I get there just in time to see half of the board members already packing up their files. Some are standing, laughing, and exchanging final words. The long mahogany table is littered with empty water bottles and used coffee cups. Not a good sign. "You’ve got to be kidding me," I snap, my voice echoing off the walls as I walk into the room. “Why wasn’t I informed that the meeting had already started?” The remaining sponsors freeze mid-motion. A few look guilty. One of the senior sponsors, Harvey Tran, raises a hand like he’s trying to calm a wild animal. "Alpha Xarion," he says gently. "Please, let’s not cause a scene." "Cause a scene?" I laugh humorlessly. "The meeting was scheduled for now. And yet I walk in to find it already concluded. Without me." "It was... rescheduled," another man mutters, fumbling with his glasses. "Emails went out last night. There was a scheduling conflict with another party." "I didn’t receive any damn email," I growl. Harvey sighs, folding his arms. "It may have been a technical error. But the board couldn’t be delayed again. We had to proceed." My hands curl into fists at my sides. "And what exactly was decided in my absence?" I ask, bracing myself. The room goes quiet. Harvey hesitates, then clears his throat. "We awarded the sponsorship." "To whom?" I press, trying to keep my voice steady. “Who got the deal? Which company?” He hesitates again as he takes a deep breath. “Stone Corporations." The name hits me hard, leaving me breathless. Stone Corporations. Andrew’s voice echoes in my head. 'Megan's their regional lead now.’ My heart races. "And who represented Stone Corporations in the meeting?" I ask with a low and dangerous voice. Harvey sighs. “A woman named Megan Pierce. Their regional lead. She was... impressive. She led the pitch.” Boom. A cannonball straight to the chest. Megan's the reason I lost the biggest deal I’ve chased in years? I stare at him in shock. Of course she did. Megan, my ex-wife and ex-Luna. The woman who disappeared four years ago, carrying my unborn children, I'd thought were aborted. The same woman who returned to Arkon like a ghost only to shake my world again. I exhale sharply as I glance around, then I ask quietly, “Where is she?” "She just left a few minutes before you came in. She might still be in the building if you’re quick." I turn on my heel without another word. The elevator's slow, so I take the stairs, leaping down them two at a time. Every step I take through the halls of the building is quick and focused. My eyes scan the space like a hawk. People greet me, some bow slightly, while some smile, but I don't slow down. I scan the wide corridor until… there. I see her. Megan. Dressed in a white blazer and heels that could kill a man. She’s standing near the entrance of the west wing, laughing and shaking hands with two of the board members, her smile polite and professional. Her hair is pulled back into a sleek twist, her glasses frame her eyes, and her presence commands attention. My heart stutters. She hasn’t seen me yet. Not until I step forward. Then our eyes meet. She freezes, and her smile fades. Then I notice it, the shift in her shoulders, the way her eyes move to the exit behind her. She mumbles something quickly, flashing a fake smile at the men before turning to leave. She’s running from me. Again. No. Not this time. I quicken my pace as I call after her. "Megan." She doesn’t slow down or look back but increases her steps. “Megan, wait,” I catch up with her just as she reaches the exit. Before she can slip away, I reach out and gently grab her wrist. “Don’t,” she says through gritted teeth. “Don’t touch me.” “I just want to talk.” “You’ve said enough yesterday. Now let go.” I scan the hallway. Too many people. There’s a side door nearby. A small sign reads ‘Executive Lounge: Staff Only' I pull her gently toward it. She struggles with me for a second, then huffs and follows, probably to avoid making a scene. Once inside, I close the door behind us. The room is calm and nice. Leather chairs, warm lighting, and a floor-to-ceiling window that shows part of the city. She yanks her wrist free and spins around to face me. “What the hell do you want, Xarion?” she snaps.
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