Christina’s POV
"Do you like seafood?" I asked, desperate to break the silence that had settled between us.
"Why do you ask?" Hudson’s gaze was direct, unblinking.
I didn’t really know why I was asking these random questions.
This man sitting across from was legally my husband, yet I knew embarrassingly little about him. Professional courtesy dictated I should at least know the basics. After all, we had signed a contract—a partnership of sorts.
"Just curious," I said with a casual shrug.
"It depends on the preparation," he answered thoughtfully, not dismissing my question as I’d half-expected.
"Noted. Coffee or tea?"
He paused briefly. "Black coffee, no sugar."
"So I’m guessing you wouldn’t order one of those tiny oat milk lattes with heart-shaped foam art?"
His eyebrow twitched slightly. "I wouldn’t be particularly opposed."
I couldn’t help but smile. "Of course not."
He tilted his head slightly. "What does that an?"
"Nothing specific... just... good to know you don’t need fancy foam designs."
Hudson was easier to talk to than I’d imagined. He answered each question with consideration, showing no signs of impatience. Like interviewing a sowhat emotionally reserved successful businessman—interesting, but not exactly tabloid material.
Speaking of gossip... I rembered Alpha Cassian ntioning that Hudson had been interested in so woman for years.
My curiosity suddenly deflated. My stomach twisted like I’d swallowed a particularly sour lemon while watching soone else enjoy chocolate cake.
Plus, he’d gone quiet after I ntioned repaying him. Maybe I’d said sothing wrong.
Silence enveloped us again.
Not uncomfortable silence.
Just... strange.
As if we were carefully circling each other in an oversized room.
Just as I was contemplating what to say next, Hudson spoke.
"While you were in the restroom, a young woman approached for my contact information," he said matter-of-factly. "I declined."
I blinked, surprised he’d bring this up voluntarily.
"You don’t need to explain that to . We might be mates, but this is fundantally a partnership arrangent, isn’t it?"
A flash of displeasure crossed his face. "Even in a partnership, you’re still my wife. I don’t want my wife feeling emotionally insecure, so regardless of whether you think it matters, I’m explaining anyway."
My heart skipped a beat unexpectedly.
"Wow," Akira comnted in my head, "turns out he can string together full sentences."
Before I could formulate a response, Hudson stood up.
"Let’s head back."
Without my noticing, the server had already cleared our plates.
The car waited outside.
We slid into the backseat in silence.
As we approached the mansion, I imdiately spotted soone standing by the entrance.
He was tall, wearing a gray suit jacket, arms hanging awkwardly at his sides, his stomach slightly protruding over his belt.
I leaned forward, squinting.
Franklin Vance.
I’d been dodging his calls all week.
He’d switched numbers, calling daily, leaving voicemails, even sending a few half-hearted texts.
I’d blocked each new number.
Yet here he was, having tracked down anyway.
I climbed out of the car.
"What are you doing here?"
He held up a gift box in each hand like peace offerings.
I made no move to take them.
"Just thought I’d drop these off," he said with a forced grin. "Wanted to chat."
I remained silent.
I knew he’d contacted Nyx Collective first, discovering I hadn’t shown up for days.
No one had revealed my new studio’s location, so he’d settled for the next best thing: LGH headquarters.
I could imagine the scene: Franklin yelling at the receptionist, emphasizing he was "your boss’s father-in-law" as if that mattered, until security escorted him out.
Any reasonable person would take the hint and leave.
But Franklin was never reasonable.
"What do you want?" I blocked the doorway, preventing his entry.
"Chrissy," he said with feigned hurt, "can’t I visit my daughter without needing a reason?"
I glared at him, jaw tight.
"Didn’t get enough ti at the police station? Stay a few more nights and maybe you won’t have ti to stalk ."
To his credit, he didn’t flinch, imdiately plastering that rigid smile back on his face.
"Even there, I was thinking about you. The weather’s getting colder, flu season’s starting. I just wanted to make sure you’re staying warm."
"Amazing what two nights in a cell can do. You pretend I don’t exist for twenty-three years, now suddenly you’re worried I might catch a cold."
He hesitated, blinking. "I an it. I really care."
"Save it. What do you really want?"
"I just ca to see you."
I crossed my arms. "You ca to butter up Alpha Hudson. Drop the act."
His smile vanished.
He spotted Hudson erging from the car, and his entire deanor shifted. He straightened, brushed off nonexistent dust, then pushed past heading straight for him.
"Alpha Hudson!" he called with a wide smile. "How’s your evening? I ca to congratulate you, though I’m a bit late. Never expected you and Chrissy to marry! If only I’d known sooner..."
His smile for Hudson was brighter than any he’d given , eyes crinkled, voice artificially warm.
He thrust the gift boxes forward.
Hudson’s brow furrowed.
Franklin either didn’t notice or didn’t care.
"Chrissy has always been sowhat... shy," he continued, raising his voice. "Not very social, few close friends, and those suitors... well, nothing ever ca of them. But now? She’s finally found true love. I’m so happy for her. I trust you’ll treat her well."
At that mont, I felt genuinely embarrassed. From what I knew,the Crescent Pack might not be one of the top packs in the northern territories, but it was still substantial. After all, even Ysolde’s Carlisle Pack relied on our pack’s resources. It was only because Franklin had threatened using Ysolde that I’d agreed to find a better mate to escape the fate of marrying that old man.
And now here was my father, the Alpha who seed so powerful and commanding in front of , groveling before Hudson, hoping to catch whatever scraps of resources might fall from Hudson’s fingers for his company.
I seriously wondered if the Crescent Pack ’s business was on the verge of bankruptcy.
Unable to tolerate Franklin any longer, I moved to Hudson’s side, linking my arm with his. "Ignore him. Let’s go inside."
We turned and took several steps before Franklin hurried after us.
"Chrissy! I went through so much trouble to find you. Can’t you spare ten minutes? Just coffee. It’s windy out here, don’t be so cold."
I gripped Hudson’s hand tighter, quickening my pace.
Franklin shouted behind us, "I’m still your father. You can’t avoid forever. I might even drop by your studio soti."
Hudson hesitated, his steps slowing.
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