Tristan is an alpha, strong and silent, with control over everything around him, he only screws omegas, everyone knows that, he is a perfectionist, everyone knows that, Dylan Harper is the only assistant he tolerates, everyone knows that, but what everyone doesn’t know is Tristan is the Alpha under Dylan’s sheets. Dylan is just a beta, kind and invisible. When they’re forced together by work, tension builds between them, but Dylan knows his place. Alphas don’t look at betas like him. There’s no room for dreams or hope. But after waking up one day with an Alpha under his sheets, Dylan starts to wonder if he’s been wrong about everything. Will he remain just a shadow to Tristian, or is there more to his story? ••• Tristan’s breath was steady, but I could feel the tension in the air between us. I stood too close. My fingers brushed against his arm, just enough to make the heat between us undeniable. “Don’t…” he murmured, his voice a low growl that sent a shiver down my spine. But I didn’t move away. I couldn’t. His presence was too much, too magnetic. My body hummed with a hunger I didn’t know how to quiet. His eyes locked with mine, intense, searching, like he knew what I was feeling before I did. “You’re too close,” he whispered. I stayed silent, caught between the urge to pull away and the need to be closer. His breath, warm on my skin, made it harder to think. “Do you intend to trigger your heat again, my pretty little thing?” He breathed out and I could have climaxed right there and then.
Lihat lebih banyakDylan’s POVThe second the words had left my lips—"I accept."—it was like the whole fucking room shifted.No going back. No pretending this had never happened.And Tristan? He didn't say a word.Not a single goddamn thing.But his face—fuck. If looks were deadly, I'd have been a pile of smoldering ash on the high-end marble. His jaw was so tight, I knew he was going to snap a tooth, and his fists—oh, those were curled up like he was about to shatter something. Or someone.Probably me.Good. Let him break the fuck out.Oliver, on the other hand, was the epitome of smug contentment. That sly smile—too easy, too smooth—spread at the corners of his mouth like he'd already got what he wanted. And perhaps he had. I mean, I agreed, didn't I?Fuck it.I spun on my heel, making a beeline for the door before my idiot, traitor heart could change its mind."Dylan."His low, slicing voice cut across the room, freezing me in my tracks.Of course. Of fucking course.I didn't turn around. I should ha
Dylan’s POVI should’ve said no.I wanted to say no.But standing there, caught between Tristan’s impossible gaze and Oliver’s quiet, waiting confidence, my mouth wouldn’t cooperate. My heart was a fucking mess, hammering too fast, too loud, drowning out the one part of me still clinging to reason.The silence stretched—awkward, heavy, choking. Neither of them moved. Neither of them spoke. And me? My brain was spinning out in a million different directions at once.I should walk. Should pack my shit, toss Tristan’s precious files on his desk, and leave this entire mess behind. I should.But I didn’t.Because even now—especially now—I couldn’t stop remembering.Every moment. Every mistake. Every fucking time I let myself hope—only to get burned.I remembered the first time I met him. Suit crisp, voice cold, eyes sharp enough to cut through steel. He didn’t smile. Didn’t look at me twice. I was just another assistant—another cog in the machine. But even then—even then—he got under my sk
Tristan’s PovI hadn't expected they would be together.And I definitely did not expect they would be so in each other's faces and so relaxed looking—too close, too fucking intimate.The moment I walked into the office, tension was in the air. My blood boiled, a jealous anger seeping into my pores as I took it all in. Oliver was reclining over the chair in front of Dylan's desk, grinning that infuriating smile of his reserved especially for moments such as these—moments when he knew he was provoking me.And Dylan…Dylan was relaxed. Too relaxed. His head was tilted to one side, lips twisted into a wry smile as if Oliver's drivel was actually hilarious to him.I hated it.I hated everything."No. What's going on here?" My voice cut through the room like a blade—tensed, cold, barely on the leash.Dylan glanced up, his face instantly falling into something guarded. "Nothing," he said quickly. "Oliver was just leaving."Was I? Oliver drawled, not even wincing at all. He leaned his head in
Dylan’s PovI had barely finished gasping for air from the whole art show fiasco when my life decided to get even more complicated.The office was its usual circus—phones jangling, emails piling up, and the subtle scent of high-end coffee lingering in the air. I was neck-deep in scheduling hell, coordinating yet another last-minute meeting Tristan hadn't bothered to inform me about, when a voice I knew called out above the chaos."Morning, sunshine."Fucking hell.I looked up, and there he was. Oliver Sinclair. Leaning on the reception desk like he was king of the world, dressed in a navy business suit that probably cost more than I spent on the entire apartment lease. His hair was perfectly disheveled in that I rolled out of bed this way and you'll never be cooler than me type of way, and his smile? Tolerable.I sighed, already bracing myself for whatever kind of devastation he was about to unleash. "Mr. Wolfe is in a meeting," I said bluntly. "You'll have to wait."A slow, self-sati
Dylan’s PovI managed to get the exact second the asshole made his move. He walked over, eyes glinting with predatory interest. "I didn't think you'd be here," he drawled, voice smooth and condescending. "Slumming it?"Oliver's smile fell just short of his eyes. "What can I say? I like to support the arts."The alpha chuckled, creeping closer—too close. His scent was stronger now, thick and overwhelming, designed to make one nervous. "Playing house with Wolfe still, hmm?"Something sharp caught Oliver's face, but I got there before he could. "Back off," I said, keeping my voice steady and low.The two men turned to face me. The alpha blinked in surprise—like he hadn't even seen I was there until now. "And you are?"I leaned my head, letting myself calm down, I wasn’t an omega who reacted intensely to an Alpha’s scent. "Someone who doesn't appreciate bullies."His eyebrows drew together. "This isn't your business.""Make it mine," I snapped back. "Or you can walk away while I'm still
Dylan’s Pov"You. Me. Dinner." He stepped away from the wall, standing a little closer—close enough I could pick up on the rich whiff of his cologne, bitter and expensive. "Unless you have something else you want to do."What the actual fuck???I chuckled without humor, shaking my head. "Why the hell should I have dinner with you?"“Because you're curious," he stated bluntly, as if announcing the most obvious fact on earth. "And because you know I'm not going to take no from you until you learn to say yes."He was crazy. "I'm not interested," I snarled at me.He wrapped his hand around my wrist. Not tight—tight enough to keep me still. "Come on," he growled, low in his voice. "It's just dinner, Dylan. I don't bite."I raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, right."His grin grew broader, and for a nauseating moment, I could have sworn he was enjoying himself. "Perhaps I simply want to meet the man who's been driving my fiancé to the edge."I seethed.Bastard. He knew which buttons to press."I'm no
Dylan’s PovI glanced across at the bag on the ground in front of me. "And what's that then?""Open it," he teased, his voice husky and sensual, like he was telling a dirty secret to me.I ripped the bag open against my will and yanked out a box. It was velvet-covered, tiny, with—shit.I opened the top.A cufflink. Just one. Silver, beautifully burnished to a blindingly brilliant shine, with a very small little wolf's head punched into the center."You—" My jaws were clenched. "You're kidding me."Oliver laughed, deep and smooth. "What? I figured you'd earned well enough for a little reward. You're as much second in command as this place has right now."I slammed the box closed and jammed it at him. "I don't want it."His smile just widened, as if he'd had a clear bet that it would be his response. "Relax, Dylan. It's just a gift."Never 'just' anything, incidentally, with rich people, anyone with half a sense knew that.“You should save your generosity for your fiancé,” I snapped.He
Dylan’s POVThis month was purgatory. It’s been bloody hell. Swear, I died and went to hell.I fooled myself it would be easy—measuring the seconds until I could get away from Tristan Wolfe and the lunacy he lured me into behind me. I was lying to myself and thought I could, that a single month would not kill me. It was a fucking lie.Every day crawled by at a snail's pace, as if it were some sort of sick torture. And Tristan? He made it harder. Much harder.He wasn't cold—he was ice. Cutthroat, bitter, and inscrutable. He stopped growling at me like he once did, stopped leaving me stranded behind in his office late with pretext, and for the first time in his life, let HR schedule interviews without automatically rejecting every abject failure to fall on his desk.It ought to have been a relief. It wasn't.Because in some way, the silence—the emptiness—was so much worse. It didn’t help that I felt a little guilty the way I’d gone off on him, I couldn’t help the thought that I was pr
Dylan’s PovI sprinted down the corridor, my own heart pounding so furiously that I could hear it in my own head. My fists stung from hitting him, but I didn't feel a moment's regret—not a single iota.The nerve of him. The sheer, goddamn nerve.I should have walked. Should have thrown his keys in his face and walked away and left him to his own devices to get himself home. But no, because I was stupid—a broken, desperate stupid that never learned its lesson where Tristan Wolfe was concerned."Dylan," his voice behind me—deep, rough, and too damn close.I didn't.I couldn't.If I lost my temper, I'd say something I couldn't retract. And worse—feel things I couldn't control.But Tristan wasn't going to let me get away so cheap."Dylan!"His other hand wrapped around my wrist, and I was yanked up short inches from the bar. His warmth seeped into me through his fingers, stretched already-thin patience out all over again.Let go, I force through my teeth, not willing to turn around. If I
Dylan I was late. Again. Mr. Wolfe had requested me to bring an urgent document.I was already hurrying when his message arrived: "Pick up condoms along the way. "Large size." I froze on the tube, staring at my phone. My face burned. Was this my life now? Running errands for Mr. Wolfe as a personal assistant/pharmacist? I sighed and swore under my breath before typing back: "What brand?" He responded promptly, like if he had been waiting. "Any. "Just hurry." When I entered the pharmacy, I kept my head down. The cashier did not even blink. She simply called me up, handed me the bag, and grinned. However, it felt as if the entire store was watching. I carried the darn suitcase like it was a bomb!I made my way to Mr. Wolfe's place. My heart pounded. Was this what I had studied for? Despite being a Harvard graduate, I am only able to deliver this. I knocked, and the door opened slightly. Nobody greeted me. I stepped inside and asked, "Boss?"His voice came from upstairs. "Come up!"...
Welcome to GoodNovel world of fiction. If you like this novel, or you are an idealist hoping to explore a perfect world, and also want to become an original novel author online to increase income, you can join our family to read or create various types of books, such as romance novel, epic reading, werewolf novel, fantasy novel, history novel and so on. If you are a reader, high quality novels can be selected here. If you are an author, you can obtain more inspiration from others to create more brilliant works, what's more, your works on our platform will catch more attention and win more admiration from readers.
Komen