Aliana POV:
I stared through the gap in the curtains, my chest tight.
Ivan, the ruthless Alpha CEO who wore ten-thousand-dollar suits like armor, was on his hands and knees. He was crawling across the Persian rug.
A little boy, no older than four or five, was sitting squarely on Ivan's back. The child’s tiny fists were tangled in the collar of Ivan's crisp white dress shirt, yanking on the expensive fabric.
Ivan didn't snarl. He didn't snap. Instead, a deep, rumbling laugh vibrated from his chest. He shook his shoulders, playing the obedient beast of burden, crawling faster to make the boy squeal with delight.
The woman on the sofa turned her head. The warm light caught her face.
Kiera.
Her exquisite features were twisted into a smug, lazy smile. She held a crystal glass of red wine, swirling the dark liquid as she looked down at the man and the boy with the absolute authority of a queen.
My hands started to shake. The heavy thermos slipped from my grip. I lunged, catching it against my stomach just before it hit the stone ledge. The impact bruised my ribs, but I didn't make a sound.
Inside my mind, my wolf threw her head back and let out a bloodcurdling howl. She slammed against the mental barriers of my consciousness, her claws tearing at my sanity. She wanted to shift. She wanted to smash through the glass and rip their throats out.
I bit down on the side of my tongue. Hard.
The sharp, metallic taste of my own blood flooded my mouth. The sudden burst of physical pain acted like a circuit breaker, shocking my brain back into absolute, cold rationality. I forced the wolf down, chaining her in the darkest corner of my mind.
I looked back through the glass.
The boy yanked on Ivan's dark hair. "Faster, Daddy! Run!"
Ivan stopped crawling. He turned his head, his face softening into an expression I had never seen in the three years we had been together. He pressed a long, affectionate kiss to the boy's chubby cheek.
The image felt like a jagged piece of glass twisting directly into my heart.
Ivan hated children. He had told me a hundred times that pups were noisy, useless distractions. He had made me swear we wouldn't even discuss breeding until five years after our mating ceremony.
Kiera stood up from the sofa. She walked over to where Ivan was kneeling on the rug. She raised her bare foot and lightly tapped her toes against his broad shoulder.
Ivan didn't flinch. He reached up, his large hand wrapping securely around her slender ankle. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to her lower leg, right above the bone.
A violent wave of nausea hit me. My stomach violently contracted. Acid burned the back of my throat.
I took a step backward. I needed to run. I needed to get back to my car, drive away, and scrub my skin until it bled. But my boots felt like they were cast in lead, sinking deep into the muddy grass. I couldn't move.
The freezing rain slid down the metal spokes of my umbrella, dripping steadily onto my shoulders. The cold was seeping through my coat, sinking directly into my marrow.
Inside the warm, bright room, the boy grew bored. He slid off Ivan's back and ran toward the pile of plastic blocks in the corner.
Ivan stood up. He casually brushed the lint off his ruined shirt. He reached out and pulled Kiera flush against his chest. She melted into him, her arms wrapping around his neck. She rested her head against his heart, her manicured finger tracing lazy circles on his chest.
As she moved, Kiera's gaze drifted toward the window. Her eyes seemed to lock directly onto the gap in the curtains. The corner of her mouth twitched upward into a faint, knowing smirk.
My breath hitched. I froze, my muscles locking tight. She saw me.
But she didn't scream. She didn't alert him. She just let her eyes slide past the glass, acting as if she had seen nothing but the storm.
Ivan dipped his head, taking Kiera's earlobe between his teeth. He whispered something against her skin. Kiera giggled, swatting his chest playfully.
The bulletproof, soundproof glass muted their voices into a dull hum. I needed to hear them. I needed to know exactly what this was.
I leaned closer, pressing my ear against the freezing, wet frame where the window met the brick.
The wind suddenly shifted. A violent gust ripped across the lawn, catching the tiny gap in the window seal and carrying the acoustics of the room straight to my ear.
Ivan's voice cut through the sound of the rain. It was low, cold, and dripping with the arrogant cruelty I knew so well.
"Stop being jealous. Aliana is just a placeholder."
