Chapter 6

Laila

As I sat in the back of the cab, I let out a slow breath, feeling a wave of relief wash over me. I was glad to be away from that place. The encounter had been intense—though not with Mrs. Montgomery. No, it was with Mr. Playboy. Or, more precisely, James.

Things with him had been… awkward. Very awkward. Why had he wanted to know where I lived? Maybe he had noticed my accent, or my odd surname. What were those intense stares all about? And what was with all the cheesy lines? Was he flirting with me? God, that’s the last thing I need right now—a playboy hitting on me. A shiver ran down my spine as I recalled his face. I tried to push it out of my mind. My intuition was rarely wrong, and it was warning me. I should stay away from him.

Still, there was a small part of me that couldn’t help but feel flattered. He was rich, handsome—everything women supposedly want. The fact that he was showing interest made me wonder if I was just imagining things. Was I being arrogant, thinking he might be hitting on me?

He was undeniably attractive, and he certainly knew it. He flashed those charming, almost mischievous smiles at me far too often. No, I wasn’t going down that road. I wasn’t going to start fantasizing about him. I didn’t even know him. He might be nothing but a pretty face—an empty shell inside. Maybe he was immature, selfish, or even narcissistic. Who needs that? Not me.

But my mind kept drifting back to him. I replayed every moment of our brief encounter. When he walked me to the door, he looked so... sad. It was a look that tugged at my heart, though I had no idea what could have been troubling him. And then there was his hand. When he shook mine, it was so warm, and the sensation made my skin tingle. The warmth spread through my body, and I felt like butterflies were fluttering in my stomach. When that warmth began to travel lower, I quickly pulled my hand away. Was it just static electricity? Or was it the heat of his touch?

Sometimes, it must be nice to be a guy—always warm, radiating heat. I was a northern girl, and my hands and feet were almost always cold. I couldn’t help but envy how warm he was.

I thought about his hand again, feeling that familiar stir in my gut. I had known from the start that shaking his hand was a bad idea, but I didn’t want to be rude. And now, look at how it made me feel. I rubbed my hand against the other, trying to shake off the lingering warmth.

What the hell was wrong with me? I shook my head, frowning at myself. Laila, really? Is it such a bad thing to shake someone’s hand? He was partially my client—it was just a polite gesture. Why was I obsessing over every little detail? I was making a mountain out of a molehill.

No, no. I wasn’t going down this road. I didn’t need a crush, or a fling. I was here for work. That’s it. I mentally pushed images of James out of my head, focusing instead on the tasks at hand. It always helped to cut out distractions and get back to what mattered. Besides, Mr. Playboy would probably forget about me by tomorrow.

I was so lost in my thoughts of James that I hadn’t even noticed the cab had arrived at my place. I quickly paid and rushed out, eager to shake off the lingering feelings. I went upstairs to my apartment, ate lunch, and pushed all thoughts of him from my mind. He was just a brief distraction. I had work to focus on.

I dove back into the project details I had discussed earlier with Mrs. Montgomery and contacted the construction company again. As I ticked off tasks, a sense of accomplishment washed over me. I was managing everything well—despite the fact that, somewhere at the back of my mind, James still lingered. I ignored it for now. I would keep ignoring it.

James

The moment I closed the door, my head dropped. I could still smell her and then another familiar, comforting scent hit my nose —my mom. I lifted my head and met her eyes. There was that unmistakable twinkle, the same one I saw in my sister every day, the one she got from her.

"So, what’s with the girl?" she asked, her voice laced with a teasing smirk. She already suspected, of course. I shook my head, a small smile tugging at my lips.

"Was I that obvious?" I chuckled lightly, knowing exactly what she meant.

"Well, let me think..." She leaned back, tapping her chin dramatically, pretending to think deeply.

"You skipped breakfast, which you never do. Suddenly, you're interested in things like furniture, wall colors, curtains, and tiles... You never care about that. And yet, you didn’t hear a word Laila said, but you couldn’t take your eyes off her. So, do I need to guess, or will you just tell me?"

She quirked an eyebrow, her amusement clearly written on her face.

"Yes, Laila is my mate."

The words slipped out slowly, almost too easily. But as soon as I said it, just mentioning her name and the word “mate” made my heart race with excitement and swell in joy. It was like the world had shifted into place. My mom’s face softened, and a bright smile bloomed across her face. She clasped her hands together in front of her and mouthed, "Thank you!" Then, without a moment’s hesitation, she pulled me into a tight hug, her hands barely reaching around my broad shoulders.

"Oh, thank the Moon Goddess! That is so wonderful! I’m so happy for you, James! At last, you’ve found her!"

She pulled away, her hands still resting on my arms. Her eyes were filled with pride, pure joy radiating from her.

"We’ve been waiting for this for years. You meeting your mate is a gift we’ve all been hoping for. And Laila—she’s such a beautiful, smart young lady. Very talented, too. I already love her. I’ll be honored to have her as my daughter-in-law."

"What?!" A voice from the top of the stairs cut through the moment, sharp and disbelieving.

"Did I hear Mom say 'daughter-in-law'?"

My mom turned her head toward the stairs, looking up at my younger sister, Fay, who was standing there, clearly surprised.

"Yes, my dear. Come down! James has found his mate! And she’s wonderful!"

My mom waved enthusiastically for Fay to come down, her voice bubbling with happiness. I knew that look. That smile wouldn’t leave her face for weeks. She’d been waiting for this moment—hell, she’d been dropping hints about wanting grandchildren for a while now.

"What? Does that douchebag actually have a mate?! He doesn’t deserve one!"

Fay’s voice was filled with disgust, and I could feel my temper flare up. I growled low in my throat, my wolf stirring, too.

"Shut up."

My tone was low and warning, but Fay didn’t seem to care.

"James."

Mom’s voice held a firm warning.

"Fay! You should be happy for your brother!" she scolded, her tone soft but stern. I knew the way my mom was—her love for us was unconditional, but she had no tolerance for disrespect.

I stayed silent, feeling the tension in the air. But I didn’t want to argue with Fay. Not now. Not when I was on the verge of something so much more important. And I wasn’t going to let her ruin this moment for me.

"Phhe... He will ruin her! Will you even be able to stay loyal to her? You do everything that has a hole between their legs."

My sister spat with disgust in her voice. Her words stung, but they only fueled the fire inside me. I growled low, biting back my anger. The idea that I’d betray Laila was laughable.

"Shut up, Fay," I snapped, my voice steady but cold. "You don’t know anything about her, or about me."

The last part of her statement was partly true. I did have standards. There were limits I never crossed. But Laila was my mate. The moment my eyes landed on her, every other woman faded into nothing. My past, those meaningless flings—they didn’t matter anymore. Now, Laila was my everything.

There was no one else, no distractions. Just remembering the others I’d been with made my stomach turn. Nausea rose in my throat. Why had I slept with so many random girls? What a waste. My mate deserved so much more than that. Laila—pure, elegant, everything I needed—was the complete opposite of those empty encounters.

"Fay Montgomery! Watch your tongue!"

My mother scolded Fay, and I couldn’t help but feel a sense of justice. It was about time.

"That’s not true, Fay. Of course, I’ll be loyal to her. She’s my mate. There is no one else for me anymore. She is everything." I added with a softer tone, "But then again, you wouldn’t understand... You don’t have a mate."

I taunted her, and I saw the pain flash across her face. I immediately felt a pang of guilt. But she needed to understand that this wasn’t just a fling or a passing crush—it was something much deeper.

"F.uck you, James!"

Fay spat back, her voice sharp with frustration. She was twenty-one and still hadn’t found her mate. I knew that hurt her, just as it had hurt me not so long ago. That ache never quite faded. Still, here I was, twisting the knife deeper into the wound.

"That’s it, you two. Stop this crude bickering, or I’m going to make you clean this house from the basement to the rooftop for a week!"

Mom's voice rang out with authority, and she shook her finger at us, her expression firm.

"We have maids for that,"

Fay shot back, trying not to let our mother's threats get to her. Mom could be intimidating when she wanted to be.

"Doesn’t mean they don’t need a vacation from time to time,"

Mom smirked, crossing her arms over her chest as she glanced at Fay. Fay visibly gulped. I stayed silent, watching them. We all knew we could behave if we really tried, but we didn’t always want to.

Truth be told, I loved both of my sisters more than anything. I’d punched every guy who dared to look at them the wrong way. I even beat up their st.upid boyfriends in high school when they eventually broke up—whether my sisters were the ones to end it or not. To me, if they were the ones to break up a relationship, there was always a good reason behind it. I was that protective over them.

Still, as much as I protected them, we teased each other constantly. Our bickering was legendary within the pack, and everyone knew we’d never take anything too seriously.