Dane’s POV
The knock on Hailee’s window snapped both of us out of the tense mont. She startled, her head jerking toward the sound. I frowned, leaning slightly to see who it was.
Her mother.
She stood there in a fitted coat, arms crossed, her eyes sharp enough to cut glass. Even through the glass, I could feel the weight of her stare.
Hailee quickly rolled the window down halfway. "Mom—"
"Get out of the car, Hailee," her mother said, her voice calm but laced with steel. "Now."
Hailee hesitated, glancing at for a split second like she was looking for backup. I could already tell this wasn’t going to be a friendly chat.
I leaned slightly toward the open window. "Ma’am, we were just—"
"I didn’t ask you, Dane." Her words were clipped, her eyes flicking to for barely a second before settling back on her daughter. "I’m speaking to Hailee."
Hailee pressed her lips together and unbuckled her seatbelt. "Mom, it’s not what it looks like—"
Her mother’s expression didn’t change. "Then it’s worse than it looks." Her tone sharpened as she added, "And before you start making excuses, go ahead and invite your friend inside. I want to talk to him."
I felt my brows lift slightly. So, she wasn’t just here to pull Hailee away—she wanted to talk to .
Hailee looked between us, clearly uneasy. "Mom, seriously, there’s nothing—"
"Hailee." Her voice dropped into that deadly calm mothers use when they’re not asking—they’re ordering. "Invite him inside."
Hailee exhaled hard and turned to . "Co on... she wants to talk to you."
My jaw tightened. This was about to be interesting.
I shut off the engine, got out of the car, and followed them toward the house, my eyes fixed on Hailee’s mother’s stiff stride.
The mont I stepped inside, the first thing that hit was how clean everything was. Not just tidy—it was ticulously neat. Every cushion on the couch was perfectly aligned, not a speck of dust anywhere.
But it wasn’t just the neatness that caught my eye.
It was... the house itself.
For soone who was supposed to be an oga, this place didn’t look like it. The staircase curved elegantly upward, the railing polished to a smooth shine. The living room opened up into a spacious area that could’ve belonged to a Beta family—if not higher.
My gaze drifted across the room, taking in the details. A massive flat-screen TV mounted perfectly on the wall. A sound system that probably cost more than what most ogas make in a year.
Then there was the kitchen, visible from where I stood—shiny marble countertops, an espresso machine that looked like it belonged in a high-end café, and a refrigerator big enough to feed a small pack.
And the appliances weren’t the only things raising questions. The furniture glanced custom-made. Expensive rugs, flawless curtains... even the lighting fixtures were more luxurious than what you’d expect for soone in her rank.
My brow furrowed slightly. Ogas didn’t live like this. Not even if they had a second inco—or a very generous Alpha.
Hailee’s mom must have caught looking because her lips curved into a small, nervous smile. "The Alpha pays well," she said casually, almost like she was answering a question I hadn’t asked out loud.
I lifted a brow but didn’t respond right away. Pays you well... for an oga? That didn’t add up. Either she was exaggerating, or there was more to her story than she was letting on.
Still, I kept my expression neutral. No point in pushing—yet.
"Co on," she said, gesturing toward the kitchen table. "Sit. We need to talk."
I followed, but the thought lingered in my mind.
Sothing about this family didn’t quite fit the picture.
The kitchen slled faintly of coffee and cinnamon, but even that cozy scent didn’t take away from the tension in the air.
Hailee’s mom pulled a chair out at the table, but her eyes were still on her daughter. "Hailee, go upstairs. I need to speak to Dane alone."
Hailee frowned. "Mom—"
"Upstairs," her mother repeated, her voice calm but commanding.
Hailee’s lips pressed into a thin line. She shot one last look—half warning, half curiosity—before turning and heading for the stairs. Her footsteps faded, and the faint creak of a bedroom door closing told she was gone.
Her mother sat down opposite , folding her hands neatly on the table. "So," she began, her gaze fixed on , "what exactly are your intentions toward my daughter?"
I t her stare without flinching. "My intentions?" I leaned back slightly in my chair. "I like her. I want to see where things go. I’m not here to play gas with her."
Her mouth tightened, like she was weighing every word I said. "Hmm." She sat back, still watching closely. "I’ll tell you the sa thing I will be telling Nathan and Callum."
That caught off guard. My eyes narrowed slightly. "So... you know Nathan and Callum are after her too."
"I know more than you think," she said with a scoff. "And it changes nothing. My advice to you—no, my warning to you—is to give up now. Hailee will never end up with you... or Nathan... or Callum."
Her words landed like a punch to the gut. I held her gaze, trying to read her expression, to figure out if she was bluffing or if she genuinely believed that.
"Why?" I asked finally, my voice low. "Because we’re not her mates? Or is this just you not wanting your daughter to end up with a high-ranking male?"
Hailee’s mom stared at like I was being ridiculous.
"Far from that."
I frowned deeper. "You think none of us love her?"
She nodded slowly, like she was stating a fact she was certain of. "Exactly. None of you do."
The words stung, but she didn’t give a chance to speak before continuing. "You’re all just eighteen. Boys that age want adventure, wild passion, and sex. That’s it. After you’ve had your fill, you’ll move on. And my daughter will be left broken."
I leaned forward, my voice sharp. "That is never going to happen with . I love Hailee."
One of her brows lifted in challenge. "How many girls have you told that to?"
I didn’t even hesitate. "No one. Ever. Yes, I’ve had sex before, but I’ve never dated anyone seriously. I’ve never felt about anyone the way I feel about Hailee."
She studied for a long mont, like she was trying to decide whether to believe . Then she gave a short, humorless laugh. "You boys are all the sa when you want sothing. You think you’re different, you think you’re special... but you’re not. The mont sothing changes—when the real world gets in the way—you’ll walk away."
I shook my head firmly. "Not . Not with her."
Her lips pressed into a thin line, and her tone softened just slightly. "Maybe you believe that now. Maybe you even an it. But love isn’t just about what you feel at eighteen. It’s about what you choose when things get hard. And trust , Dane..." Her gaze hardened again. "Things will get hard. And when they do, I don’t think you—or Nathan, or Callum—will still be here."
I t her stare, unflinching. "Then I’ll prove you wrong."
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