The Alpha Ceo's Escort Girl

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Chapter 5 05 Where Am I? 2

Lyra

I dragged in a breath and looked down at the T-shirt. It covered my backside, but barely. One wrong movement would make the morning even more humiliating than it already was.

I pulled the hem down as far as possible and stepped towards the bedroom door. This was the first time I had ever woken in a strange man’s home wearing his clothes. Despite what Chloe thought about women like me being fortunate whenever a high-ranking man showed interest, I did not make a habit of following powerful wolves into their bedrooms.

I had dated one man for eighteen months. I believed I was building a future with him.

Now, less than a day after discovering his betrayal, I was creeping through another man’s home without underwear. Life certainly moved fast when it was trying to destroy one’s dignity. The door opened into a wide hallway with polished floors and modern lighting built discreetly into the ceiling. I stepped out and listened.

Silence. The hallway seemed to stretch much farther than it had any right to. Several doors lined one side, and tall pieces of expensive artwork covered the other. Nothing was colourful enough to soften the space. Everything remained grey, black, cream or some artistic variation of those colours.

The Alpha scent was stronger outside the bedroom. My wolf remained attentive, although the hangover had left her far from impressed. Whoever owned the penthouse had enough dominance to make his presence linger even when he was not nearby. A lower-ranking wolf might have found it suffocating. I found it uncomfortable mostly because I had no idea what I had done with the Alpha carrying that scent.

I moved carefully through the hallway, trying to find the kitchen without opening every door like a burglar. The penthouse was enormous. I passed a private office behind glass walls, another sitting room that looked untouched and a dining area large enough to entertain twenty guests.

Mooncrest Towers crossed my mind. Sienna had mentioned that Lucien owned a penthouse there. The building was one of the most exclusive residential towers in Greyhaven, home to ruling-class families, corporate Alphas and government officials wealthy enough to live above the rest of the city in every possible sense.

Had I somehow ended up in Lucien’s penthouse? The thought offered a little relief until I remembered he had left with Sienna. If this was his home, perhaps Sienna was here too.

Then whose shirt was I wearing? I followed the faint sound of voices and emerged into a massive living room. The space had high ceilings, polished floors and tall glass windows offering a view of Greyhaven from so high above the streets that the cars looked like small moving dots. Morning light spread across the city and bounced off neighbouring skyscrapers. The furniture was modern, dark and arranged with the same controlled perfection as the bedroom.

My admiration lasted less than a second. There were two people in the room. One was Damon Blackridge. The other was a woman I did not know personally, although she looked vaguely familiar in the way many women from Greyhaven’s ruling families did. I had probably seen her photograph beside a charity announcement, company launch or society article I could not afford to care about.

She was tall, beautiful and elegantly dressed in a cream blouse and fitted trousers that probably cost more than my missing dress. Her dark hair was perfectly styled, and her perfume carried the subtle richness of something made specifically for her.

Her Alpha scent hit me next. Strong, polished and currently sharpened by fury. Damon stood near the windows wearing dark trousers and a fitted grey shirt. His hair was slightly untidy, but it somehow suited him. He looked far too awake for someone who had spent the previous night watching me drink myself senseless.

Both of them turned towards me. For the first time since waking, Damon looked surprised. The woman’s expression changed from surprise to disbelief, then settled into something much colder when her gaze dropped to the shirt I was wearing. Damon’s shirt. I recognised his scent now. It was the same dark, restrained Alpha scent that had lingered around him at Eclipse. The same scent clinging to the bed, the room and the material covering my naked body.

The pieces came together quickly, and none of them were comforting. This was Damon Blackridge’s penthouse. I had spent the night in Damon Blackridge’s bed. Wearing Damon Blackridge’s shirt. And I still had no idea what had happened. The Alpha woman stared at my bare legs. Her scent flared with jealousy and territorial offence, rolling through the room with enough force to make my wolf bare her teeth internally.

I was a Zeta in an unfamiliar Alpha’s home. My body recognised the difference in rank, but that did not mean I intended to bow my head while a stranger looked at me like dirt.

Her contempt was obvious. It was more than the anger of one woman finding another in a man’s shirt. She had caught my lower scent and could not understand how someone of my rank had ended up here. I fought the urge to pull down the T-shirt again. The woman turned towards Damon.

“You moved on quickly,” she observed coldly.

I looked between them. Moved on? I opened my mouth to explain that whatever she thought she was seeing was probably not what happened. Unfortunately, I could not confidently claim nothing had happened because I did not know. Before I could speak, Damon crossed the room. He reached me in a few long strides and wrapped one arm around my waist. My body collided with his.

“What are you...” I began.

Damon pulled me firmly against him before I could finish. His scent surrounded me. My wolf became instantly alert, confused by the sudden closeness of a powerful Alpha we barely knew. His body was warm and hard against mine, and the thin material of his shirt did little to protect me from the contact.

I placed one hand against his chest, caught between shoving him away and remaining still long enough to understand what madness I had walked into. Damon lowered his head. His lips brushed my neck. Every thought in my mind disappeared. The kiss was slow and deliberate, performed for the woman watching us. I understood that much. It was not romantic. It was not tender, and he had not asked my permission before dragging me into whatever battle existed between them.

Yet his lips were unexpectedly soft against my skin. A shiver travelled down my body before I could stop it. My wolf stirred in surprise, not recognition. There was no mate bond, no sudden supernatural certainty and no reason to respond to him beyond the fact that an extremely attractive man was kissing one of the most sensitive parts of my neck while holding me against his body.

Then I felt the hard pressure of his arousal against me. My breath caught. I doubted that part had been included in his plan. His body had reacted even if the rest of him remained cold and controlled. Heat rushed into my face. I pushed harder against his chest, but Damon kept his arm around me while lifting his gaze to the Alpha woman.

“You’re seeing your  Italian producer from Bellarive,” Damon told her. “Why does it bother you to see me with someone else, Vanessa?”

Vanessa. The name gave me the missing piece.  She was Vanessa Vargos. The on and of love interest of Damon.  Their story was all over social media. She came from one of Greyhaven’s old Alpha families. Their name had lost some of its former shine in recent years, but they still moved among the city’s ruling class as if nothing had changed. I knew nothing personal about her relationship with Damon, but I did not need private information to recognise jealousy when it filled an entire room. Vanessa’s gaze moved from his face to mine.

“You brought her here to punish me?” she asked.

Damon’s arm tightened slightly around my waist. “What makes you think anything I do is about you?”

Vanessa released a low, angry growl. Her Alpha scent sharpened, but she made no move to attack me. Perhaps she understood that I had no idea what was happening. More likely, she considered me too insignificant to be worth dirtying her hands. She looked at the oversized shirt again, and hatred flashed in her eyes.

“Keep her,” Vanessa snapped. “You and I are finished.”

Damon’s expression remained unreadable. “I thought we already were.”

“I’ll send my driver for my things,” Vanessa told him. “Make sure they’re ready.”

She picked up her handbag and strode towards the entrance. Her heels struck the polished floor hard enough to express everything else she had chosen not to say. A moment later, the front door slammed behind her.

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