66. Alpha Javier

Aella

Two days later, we find ourselves in a black Escalade, driving toward the restaurant where the meeting is to take place. Roman’s knuckles are white on the steering wheel, and Kaden has an air of alertness that borders on tension.

Roman decided to meet Alpha Javier in his own territory as a sign of respect. Both Kaden and I hate this, but Roman was adamant it had to be done.

The car is filled with the smell of Roman’s cologne, a woodsy aroma that usually comforts me, but today it seems to amplify the gravity of the situation.

“We’ll be alright, Aella,” he says. “Trust me.”

Kaden, sitting shotgun, looks over his shoulder and nods in agreement. “We’ve faced worse, right? A sit-down with another Alpha should be a cakewalk.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Roman murmurs, pulling the Escalade into the valet area.

“What are the odds that Javier is setting us up?” I can’t help but ask, breaking the silence that has enveloped the vehicle.

“Low, but not non-existent,” Roman answers, ey