My eyes fell to Finnick's left hand.
On his ring finger sat a simple silver band.
The exact one I had bought yesterday.
For a few seconds, I just stood there staring at it. My mind went blank. I hadn't even sat down yet.
Finnick slowly lifted his head and looked at me. His gaze moved from my face to my empty finger. One brow rose slightly.
"What's wrong?" he asked calmly. "Where's your ring?"
Heat rushed up my neck.
I had taken mine off last night because I felt it was too plain. Too cheap. An Alpha of his standing led one of the most powerful packs in Sunshine City. The band I chose looked like something a college couple would wear.
What I didn't expect was for him to find his and actually put it on.
Flustered, I hurriedly dug into my bag, pulled out my ring, and slipped it onto my finger. "Sorry," I muttered. "I just picked the design randomly."
His lips curved faintly. "It's fine. It looks good."
There was no mockery in his tone. No disappointment. Just simple acceptance.
That unsettled me more than if he had criticized it.
I quickly sat down and focused on my breakfast, trying to steady the strange warmth spreading through my chest. The bond between us felt quiet this morning, but present like a thread resting under the skin.
After we finished eating, Finnick folded his newspaper neatly. "I'll take you to work."
I looked up instantly. "There's no need. I can take the subway or call a taxi."
Absolutely not. If anyone at the magazine sees me stepping out of his car, the entire female department will tear me apart.
"There are no subway stations nearby," he said evenly. "And you won't get a taxi in this territory."
He was right. This part of the city belonged to elite bloodlines and Alpha households. Every family had multiple cars. Public transport didn't even pass through here.
I checked the time and realized I was already cutting it close. "Then… could you drop me at the nearest subway station on your way?"
He stared at me for several seconds, his expression unreadable. The air felt tense, as if my answer mattered more than I understood.
Finally, he gave a short nod.
Outside the villa, a black Bentley was waiting. The scent of polished leather and cold metal greeted us. A young man stood beside it.
"I'm Noah Lotte," he introduced himself politely. "Alpha Finnick's assistant."
He opened the car door but didn't rush to help Finnick. Instead, a smooth ramp extended from the side of the vehicle. Finnick guided his chair up effortlessly. The movement was practiced. Controlled. There was no helplessness in it.
I got into the car and noticed the interior had been modified to accommodate him. Everything was intentional. Nothing about him felt weak.
The drive was quiet.
When we stopped outside the subway station, Finnick looked through the window at the crowded entrance. His brows drew together slightly.
"It's inconvenient for you to travel like this," he said. "If you don't want me to drive you daily, I'll get you a car."
I blinked in surprise. "That's really not necessary."
To him, buying a car probably felt like buying coffee. But accepting something like that felt dangerous. In pack culture, gifts from an Alpha weren't just gifts. They created invisible obligations.
His eyes darkened at my immediate refusal. "I'm not always at the villa," he said quietly. "How will you get to work?"
I lifted my phone and gave a small smile. "Ride apps are easy. I'll just wake up earlier to book one. I'm going to be late. I should go."
Before he could respond, I opened the door and stepped out quickly.
I didn't look back.
But I could feel his gaze on me.
Inside the car, Finnick watched me disappear into the crowd. His expression didn't change, but something in the air around him tightened.
Noah cleared his throat lightly. "Alpha, is it just me, or is Mrs. Norton different from what our investigation suggested?"
Finnick's voice was thoughtful. "She is different."
From the information Noah had gathered, I was supposed to be shallow. A woman who valued money and status above all else. Easy to satisfy. Easy to control.
That had been one of the reasons he chose me.
A mate who wouldn't challenge him. A woman who would accept a comfortable life without asking for more. Safer than daughters from powerful packs who only wanted his territory and influence.
But I had refused a car without hesitation.
It didn't fit the profile.
Was I pretending? Playing some long game? Or did I truly not care about his wealth?
His jaw tightened slightly.
"Drive," he ordered at last.
At the top floor of Finnor Group's headquarters, the energy of dominance was almost tangible. The financial district below buzzed with human business, unaware that most of the city's power deals were sealed by pack alliances and Alpha authority.
Finnick sat at his desk, fingers moving swiftly over his keyboard. Charts and data shifted across the screen bond markets, territory investments, strategic acquisitions between packs.
His phone rang.
"Noah," he answered.
"Alpha, Mr. Lawson is here."
"Let him in."
Moments later, the office door swung open and a man in an outrageous pink shirt walked in like he owned the place.
"Finnick!" Stiles called dramatically. "You finally take a mate and you're still working? No honeymoon? No marking ceremony celebration? What kind of Alpha are you?"
Finnick didn't look up. "A busy one."
Stiles dropped into the chair opposite him, grinning. "Your poor mate. Married to the most boring dominant male in Sunshine City."
At that, Finnick finally raised his head. His stare was flat and steady. "What are you implying, Stiles?"
"I'm bored," Stiles admitted easily. "I want to meet her."
"Forget it." The refusal came instantly. "You know why I married her."
"Yes, I do." Stiles' smile faded slightly. "Still, you have a family now. It's time to stop living in the past."
Finnick's fingers paused above the keyboard.
The temperature in the room seemed to drop.
"There's no letting go," he said quietly. "The dead don't come back."
Silence stretched between them.
After a moment, Stiles shifted. "What about the little girl from years ago? Any news?"
Finnick's gaze darkened, something old and sharp flashing briefly beneath the surface.
"Not yet," he said.
But he was still searching.
Always searching.