After letting Sylvie into her home, Miss Reed immediately felt the air shift. There was a faint awkwardness lingering, like the room itself sensed something unspoken between them. Sylvie followed her into the living room with that calm, self-assured air she always carried, and yet her eyes never seemed to leave Reed.
They settled on the couch, snacks spread across the coffee table, and a movie playing in the background. Reed tried to relax into the easy domesticity of it, but Sylvie's gaze was relentless. Where most people would at least pretend to watch the film, Sylvie didn't bother. Her dark eyes were fixed on Reed's profile, drinking in every expression, every small movement.
Reed shifted uncomfortably, pretending to adjust her blanket. She took a sip of her drink, anything to distract herself from that steady stare. But it was useless. No matter how hard she tried to focus on the screen, the weight of Sylvie's attention pressed on her skin like heat.
Finally, Reed couldn't take it anymore. With a sharp breath, she grabbed the remote and paused the movie. The sudden silence filled the room, the only sound the faint rustle of snack wrappers.
"Alright," Reed said, turning to face her guest. "You've barely glanced at the movie since we sat down. Why don't you just tell me what you're really here for instead of staring holes into me?"
Sylvie didn't flinch. If anything, her lips curled into the faintest smirk, like she had been waiting for this exact question. She shifted in her seat until she was fully facing Reed, her posture straight, her presence steady and unshaken. Then she inhaled slowly, as if to steady herself before diving in.
"I'll get straight to the point," Sylvie said. Her tone was calm but carried an edge of certainty that left no room for misunderstanding. "I like you. And I want to get to know you better."
Reed froze. She had expected this. She had seen it building in the way Sylvie looked at her, in the little moments of closeness that lingered too long. And yet, hearing it said aloud struck her like a sudden gust of wind.
Sylvie's eyes softened, but her words remained firm. "I don't mean to make you uncomfortable, but I want you to know I'm going to start courting you. From now on."
The declaration hung in the air, heavy and undeniable.
Reed exhaled slowly, her chest tightening with a mix of emotions. Fear. Longing. Resistance. She wanted to believe this could be something, but her past clawed at her, warning her not to fall too easily.
"I don't think this is going to work," she finally said, her voice quieter than she intended.
Sylvie tilted her head, studying her with an unreadable expression. "Why? Is it because I work for your younger brother?"
"That's part of it," Reed admitted, forcing the words past the lump in her throat. "But it's more than that. I don't think we're compatible, Sylvie. And you're younger than me. That kind of difference… it matters."
The truth was, Reed knew Sylvie's age had nothing to do with it. Her protest was armor, a shield she raised to protect herself from repeating old mistakes. The scars of her past relationship ran deep, whispering to her that love always came with loss, that letting someone in only led to pain.
Sylvie, however, didn't look discouraged. Instead, she gave a light, almost playful smile, her Alpha confidence radiating effortlessly. "If that's the best excuse you've got, Miss Reed, then I'm afraid you'll have to try harder. Because I'm not going to give up that easily."
Her tone wasn't boastful. It was steady. Certain. As if persistence was as natural to her as breathing. After all, she was an Alpha and a member of the Cheng family. Competition and determination were carved into her very being.
Reed's heart skipped despite herself, caught between the walls she'd built and the unyielding sincerity sitting right across from her.
________
It was evening, and Avery sat alone in the study, forcing his eyes to stay on the glowing monitor. He had buried himself in work, trying to smother the restless edge of his rut. At least Noël's heat had ebbed for now; the house was calmer, and that made control possible again. Still, the dull thrum of desire lingered like an itch beneath his skin, making concentration fragile.
A soft chime broke the silence. Avery's phone screen lit up with a message from Jay. He had reached out earlier to apologize for yesterday's disaster, telling Jay to keep his distance for a week. The reply looked harmless enough at first, but as Avery's eyes skimmed the words, his brow furrowed. The tone was too light, too sweet. Even the string of emojis—playful, almost flirty—gnawed at his nerves. Whatever sympathy or patience he had managed to summon drained away in an instant. His jaw tightened as he tossed the phone back onto the desk, the clatter sharp in the quiet room.
Five minutes later, as he scrolled through his inbox, something else caught his attention: an email from Noël's university. Avery opened it, eyes scanning quickly then pausing. His Omega had passed. Not just barely passed, but managed an average score, despite having crammed six months' worth of studies into only a few weeks. A faint, rare smile broke across Avery's lips. Pride swelled in his chest, easing the sour taste Jay had left behind.
Without hesitation, he picked up his phone again and texted Miss Reed: What gifts would be suitable for celebrating academic results? Something meaningful, not generic.
At that exact moment, Miss Reed was curled on the sofa, half-watching a film with Sylvie. She read Avery's message and immediately began searching on her tablet, her brows furrowed in concentration. Sylvie noticed the sudden distraction. She didn't pry at least, not until the phone in Miss Reed's hand began to ring. Avery's name flashed across the screen.
Miss Reed excused herself and answered, her voice slipping into her usual professional cadence as they exchanged ideas. After a brief discussion, Avery settled on a few options and hung up.
When Miss Reed returned to the sofa, Sylvie's sharp gaze followed her. She tilted her head, speaking casually but with an edge hidden beneath her words. "He makes you work even at this hour?"
Miss Reed blinked, caught off guard. "It's only six in the evening," she replied, trying to sound light.
But Sylvie wasn't reassured. A cool note had crept into her tone, one that Miss Reed couldn't miss. Sylvie rose from the sofa, stretching her arms. "Then I should let you work. It's getting late anyway."
Miss Reed felt the shift immediately. The warmth of the afternoon had dissolved into something tense and unspoken. Concern flickered in her eyes, but before she could speak, Sylvie added, her voice softer yet restrained, "I don't want to be unreasonable. If you need to work, then you should work. Don't worry about me. I've watched enough movies for the month, and I really did have a great time today."
There was sincerity in her words, but also disappointment carefully tucked beneath her calm exterior.
Miss Reed nodded, silently guiding her toward the door. At the threshold, they lingered for a heartbeat, the air thick with everything unsaid. Finally, Miss Reed opened the door, and Sylvie stepped out into the evening, leaving the house quieter but emptier than before.