Hudson’s POV
When Gwendolyn had shoved that photo in my face, I knew sothing was off. Christina and Daniel. The angle too perfect, the setup too deliberate.
Soone had posed for the cara.
Not Christina, so...
At the ti, I’d brushed it off. The guy worked at the studio.
According to Christina, Daniel was a good employee. Friendly, quiet, overly polite.
Christina treated him as a friend.
Ysolde did too.
Still, just to be safe, I’d ordered a background check. If it ca up clean, the file would be deleted.
Now I understood.
Daniel Williams was Niall Granger’s blood relative.
Which ant he had no business being anywhere near Christina.
The wipers moved slowly back and forth, snow piling up on the windshield.
Gino eased off the gas.
"Road’s slippery, Alpha. We’ll get there, just not fast." His eyes stayed on the red taillights ahead.
I stared at my phone, thumb tapping the screen again.
Still nothing.
Lycaon growled low in my mind. "Sothing’s wrong."
"I know," I muttered.
I exhaled and hit redial.
Straight to voicemail.
The car ahead hadn’t moved in minutes.
A row of hazard lights blinked ahead, casting orange shadows on the snowy street.
Two cars sat sideways in the middle of the intersection, their smashed front bumpers dragging.
A cop paced along the roadside, his flashlight beam sweeping over license plates.
"They’ve got the intersection blocked," Gino said quietly. "Probably another fifteen, twenty minutes—"
I was already unbuckling my seatbelt.
I pushed the door open, cold air rushing in.
"I’ll walk from here. It’s only two blocks."
Gino leaned across the console. "You sure? The snow’s really coming down."
I slamd the door, turned up my collar, and headed into the wind.
Christina’s POV
"You do realize the woman Niall was into was Beatrice, right?" I stared at Daniel. "Why did you really co here?"
His mouth tightened.
"I didn’t know that at first. I just knew he had a fiancée. When I got back to Highrise City, I found out he’d married soone else." He fidgeted uncomfortably. "I followed him and Beatrice for a while. They fight constantly. I don’t think he gives a damn about her. I think he’s still into you."
I shook my head, fighting the urge to roll my eyes. "You’re reading way too much into this. He’s not."
"We’re related. I know how he thinks," Daniel insisted. "He regrets everything. He wishes he hadn’t married her."
I couldn’t be bothered to argue about Niall’s feelings. "That’s between them. Let’s talk about you. I don’t buy that you ca here just to see what I looked like. What else were you after?"
He stared at the floor. "Nothing. I had nowhere to go. No money. Didn’t know anyone here. I saw the job listing and took a chance."
I crossed my arms. "You’re Clive Granger’s son. Don’t try telling you were broke."
His face changed instantly.
Sothing nasty crossed his face before disappearing.
His eyes filled with tears.
"Clive wanted us gone. After he shipped us overseas, he stopped answering calls. He paid my tuition and nothing else. My mom and I moved apartnts five tis in two years. I worked three jobs just to buy groceries. Every designer thing I wear is fake. I couldn’t even afford a damn phone when mine broke."
He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. "Clive didn’t want back. That’s why I ca. Just to piss him off."
"He’s really overdoing it," Akira growled in my mind.
"Way too much, "I agreed silently.
Daniel looked up at , eyes wet. "Christina... I know I say I hate Niall, but I must have the sa taste as him, because I think I like you too. And I don’t want to lie about it."
He lunged forward and grabbed my arm, his body shaking with sobs.
I pushed him back, but he just ca at again.
"I an it. You looked out for . Treated like I mattered. No one’s ever done that. I barely survived these last few years. This is the first ti I’ve felt—"
He cut himself off, sniffling hard.
"I like you. For real. And I’m not trying to use you or ss anything up."
He wouldn’t let go.
His nails dug into my sleeve.
My elbow ached where he squeezed it.
"Let go of ," I said firmly.
"I know you’re married. I know I shouldn’t feel like this. But don’t send away, please. I don’t have anywhere else. I won’t say anything again. I’ll act normal. Just don’t kick out."
He hugged my arm tighter.
I tried pulling free, but he locked both hands around my arm.
The front door slamd open.
We both turned.
Hudson stood there, coat half-open, his eyes locked on the scene in front of him.
He looked ready to kill soone.
I tried to stand, but Daniel had trapped.
My forearm throbbed where his grip tightened.
"What are you doing here?" I asked Hudson.
My husband walked over to us, grabbed Daniel’s wrist, and yanked hard.
"Ow!"
Daniel stared up at Hudson, tear-streaked and red-faced.
Hudson caught a handful of Daniel’s hair, hauled him to his feet, then shoved him backward hard.
Daniel stumbled and slamd into the edge of the drafting table.
The impact knocked a jar of pens off the side.
"Ow—fuck!" he yelled. "My back!"
He collapsed against the table like his spine had snapped in half.
He hunched over and whined, "Christina, I think my spine’s broken... Can you help up?"
"Don’t," Hudson’s voice cut across the room before I could move.
They both stared at .
"I wasn’t going to," I said, standing up next to Hudson with my arms crossed.
Daniel stayed slumped by the edge, wheezing dramatically.
From where I stood, I could see the small red patch spreading through his shirt where he’d hit the table.
Nothing looked broken.
His nose had stopped running.
His eyes were dry now, just puffy like a kid who’d lost his favorite toy.
I didn’t move. "You didn’t hit that hard. You barely bumped it. And my arm still hurts from how tight you grabbed it, so no, I’m not helping you."
Daniel shut up.
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