Chapter 307
Three hundred and nine
Isabella POV
The crowd erupted.
Wesley walked in wearing a charcoal jacket over a white shirt and dark jeans, his black hair slicked neatly away from his face. After everything I’d overheard about fevers, herbs, and treatments, I’d expected him to look exhausted. Instead he looked even better than I remembered.
Barbara walked beside him as though she’d been born for nights like this. Her dress hugged her figure without trying too hard, showing off long legs made even longer by impossible heels. Her makeup was flawless. Wesley rested a hand against the small of her back as he guided her through the crowd, steering her around cables and crowded tables without either of them needing to think about it.
My chest hurt, but not because of Barbara. She was the least frightening part of this. It hurt because Wesley never looked around.
My entire body was screaming mate, yet he walked past my booth as though I didn’t exist. I doubted he even knew I was sitting a few feet away.
Either Grandma Cassidy had been completely wrong about him never hiding his feelings or something was terribly wrong.
The other man, who I assumed was Alpha Charlie, was about Wesley’s height, though leaner, with mouse- brown hair and a quieter sort of confidence. A beautiful woman stayed close beside him, slipping naturally into their conversation. Together they looked like people who’d known each other for years. They settled into the VIP booth directly opposite ours, giving me a perfect view whether I wanted one or
not.
Waiters sprinted toward them. Barbara laughed at something Wesley said, her hand brushing his arm as
she leaned closer.
Beside me, Harrison followed my gaze and chuckled. “See? Rich people don’t just inherit money. They inherit each other. Their parents spend decades making sure they all end up marrying inside the same circles. It’s like watching luxury brands date other luxury brands p>
I smiled faintly and pretended to listen.
“Wait,” Harrison suddenly said. “Isn’t that Emma p>
I followed his gaze.
Emma had just arrived.
She looked completely different than she did at work. Tonight she wore bright colors that somehow made her look like walking candy. A massive bodyguard shadowed her every step as she headed straight toward Wesley’s booth.
Wesley immediately stood and wrapped her in a hug. She hugged him back, but I noticed the stiffness in
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her shoulders. Whatever he whispered made her hesitate before finally sitting down.
The tension was between her and Alpha Charlie. Every time Charlie spoke, Emma answered without looking at him.
Thankfully, Harrison had become distracted by the endless plates of sliders and fries appearing on the VIP tables. He was happily working his way through both while sipping whiskey and nodding along with the music, completely oblivious to the storm building inside me.
The lights suddenly dimmed. A roar swept through the club as Anita ran onto the stage.
People surged toward the dance floor with their phones raised while Anita slipped on her headphones and took command of the room. The first beat dropped, and the entire club seemed to jump with it.
Even from across the room, I could see the pride on Wesley’s face. He clapped, laughed, and shouted something toward the stage while Emma abandoned the booth altogether, moving closer to dance on
her own.
I kept stealing glances toward Wesley.
He still hadn’t looked at me.
After her set, Anita made her way around the VIP section, greeting guests one booth at a time. She stopped at Wesley’s table first, pulling off her headphones while Barbara immediately handed her a tissue. Wesley poured her a glass of water, which she finished in one long drink as everyone crowded around congratulating her.
I was so busy watching them that I didn’t notice Anita turning.
Her eyes landed on me. I looked away.
Harrison caught me.
“You know,” he said with a grin, “pretending you didn’t see your admirer only works if she didn’t already
see you p>
“I wasn’t pretending p>
“Mmm-hmm. If you keep looking that guilty, people will think you’re the one with the crush p>
Before I could answer, Anita was already walking toward us.
“You came!” she exclaimed, delight spreading across her face before she pulled me into a quick side hug. She was still warm from performing, strands of brightly dyed hair escaping around the dramatic silver liner framing her eyes. Glitter caught beneath the club lights every time she smiled.
“I had to,” I said, smiling back. “You were incredible. The transitions, the energy… I don’t know much about DJing, but everyone was completely hooked p>
Her grin widened. “You have no idea how much that means coming from you p>
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She asked if I was enjoying myself, whether anyone had been rude, whether I needed anything. It wasn’t until she finally looked beside me that she noticed Harrison.
Her smile faltered. “Wait…” She frowned. “Isn’t he from Accounting p>
Harrison waved. Anita looked from him to me. Her nose wrinkled.
“Is he your boyfriend p>
“My people!” Emma called with a laugh, lifting her drink toward us. “Accounting made it p>
She looked between Harrison and me, one eyebrow lifting. “Hold on, are you two together p>
Every head at Wesley’s table turned, including Wesley’s. His eyes locked onto mine before sliding toward
Harrison.
Wesley leaned back against the booth with the easiest smile in the room.
“So this is what’s happening in Accounting?” he called out lightly. “Office romance? Should HR be
worried p>
Emma laughed. Even Harrison chuckled awkwardly.
My stomach sank instead. To everyone else, it was harmless teasing, but to me it was a reminder that one careless rumor could cost Harrison his job because of a lie I’d started.
Barbara’s eyes stayed on me, calmly studying me from head to toe, lingering on my halter top before returning to my face.
She was assessing me, as if trying to figure out exactly how the girl she’d dismissed as a homeless stray had somehow found her way into the VIP section.
“That went… well,” Harrison muttered after Anita moved on to greet the next group of people.
“It really didn’t,” I said, unable to shake the knot forming in my stomach. “What if they decide to tamper with your job? What if this whole thing was a stupid idea p>
Harrison, to his credit, took another sip of his drink as though we weren’t discussing the possibility of his career ending.
“Then you tell HR why you started this in the first place,” he said with a shrug. “Avoiding workplace harassment and using fake dating as cover. Sounds like a reasonable explanation to me p>
I shot him a look. “You honestly think HR is going to want to hear another story from me after everything that happened p>
He grinned, refusing to let my anxiety infect him, and I gave up trying to make him understand.
Across the room, Barbara looked away from me and leaned toward Wesley to whisper something into
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his ear. Whatever she said made him nod before settling back against the booth, his attention apparently returning to everyone else.
Had that little exchange with Anita bothered Wesley at all? Had pretending Harrison was my boyfriend stirred anything inside him? Or was I still inventing meanings where there were none?
I looked at Harrison. “Let’s dance p>
“Huh? I thought you didn’t want to p>
“I’ve changed my mind p>
He stood and offered me his hand with an exaggerated gentleman’s bow, slipping back into the role of devoted boyfriend so naturally that I almost laughed.
Together we walked toward the edge of the VIP dance floor, where there was enough room to move without disappearing into the crowd. Wesley and Barbara watched us leave the booth, though I couldn’t tell whether they were watching us specifically or simply following the movement around the room.
The music pulsed through the floor beneath our feet. Even the VIP section had become crowded as more guests drifted toward Anita’s stage, everyone wanting to dance close enough to feel part of the celebration. People bumped shoulders, laughed, raised glasses overhead, and the shifting crowd naturally pushed us closer together.
At first we danced casually, nothing more than an easy rhythm to the music. Harrison kept one hand resting lightly against my waist. He was respectful and never pulled me closer than I allowed. But even that innocent contact made my wolf restless.
Wesley was only a few yards away, and my body knew the difference between an ordinary touch and the magnetic pull that came whenever my mate was near.
I tried not to look toward his booth.
I failed.
Every time I glanced over, I caught him doing the same, but it was never for long.
His eyes would find me, linger, then drift away again. He’d say something to Barbara or Charlie, lift his glass, only for those dark eyes to return a little later.
Something reckless took hold of me. Frustration or hurt, I didn’t know what it was, but I wanted proof that I wasn’t imagining any of this.
I caught Harrison’s wrist and guided his hand higher until it rested lightly against the back of my neck.
His eyebrows shot up. “Oh,” he laughed. “We’re upgrading the choreography now p>
“Just follow me p>
He did.
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The rhythm shifted, and so did we. We slipped into something faster, almost playful, borrowing a few salsa steps that made him laugh whenever I spun away before coming back into his arms. I hadn’t danced like this in years.
And then I stopped thinking.
My hips found the music naturally. My body remembered movements I’d buried long ago. Back in my mother’s pack, people used to tell me I was born with rhythm, that my tiny waist and the way I moved always drew attention. My grandmother hated hearing it. She would pull me aside afterward and tell me that beauty was loud enough already, and dancing only made dangerous men notice you faster. She’d always end with the same warning.
“The same attention that killed your mother will come looking for you too p>
Tonight I ignored her voice.
For the first time in years, I danced because I wanted to.
Wesley was watching. I didn’t need to look to feel it.
The mate bond tightened every time our eyes almost met across the crowded room, stretching thinner and thinner until it felt like it might snap. My wolf paced wildly beneath my skin, growing more agitated with every passing second, and suddenly the room felt too warm.
The lights blurred, and the music became too loud.
My chest tightened until every breath felt shallow.
“I need the restroom,” I shouted over the music.
Harrison let go. “You okay p>
I nodded. “I’ll be right back p>
Without waiting for another question, I slipped away from the dance floor and hurried toward the hallway marked RESTROOMS, desperate for a few minutes where I could breathe without feeling the bond clawing at my chest.
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Cedella
Cedella is a passionate storyteller known for her bold romantic and spicy novels that keep readers hooked from the very first chapter. With a flair for crafting emotionally intense plots and unforgettable characters, she blends love, desire, and drama into every story she writes. Cedella’s storytelling style is immersive and addictive—perfect for fans of heated romances and heart-pounding twists.