Amber’s POV

    I was entirely frozen, unable to move even the slightest inch, not even to breathe. I stared at Julian like I would a ghost, because that was he was to me in this moment, a ghost of the life I left behind, back to haunt me once again.

    Julian’s face was calm and cool. He walked up to me like he expected something of me.

    I couldn’t fathom what that was. Hadn’t I ended things clearly enough? Didn’t he end things with me?

    Olivia could have children again. Why wasn’t he with her?

    What was he even doing here?

    And worse, was this project a lie just to get me to ept seeing him?

    I finally breathed as disappointment filled me. If that was true, if the project was a lie, I would be incredibly disappointed, not just for the sake of the project, but in Julian as a person. As an Alpha.

    Yet, I couldn’t quite believe the worst, not yet. That packet had been so thoroughly prepared, so detailed.

    And there had been enough glimmers of good in there that I believed it might actually work.

    Or maybe that was just wishful thinking.

    Julian nced down at the packet under my arm, then up to my face again. “Did you want to speak privately about my proposal?” he asked. “Or should we converse here in the lobby?”

    He was acting like he didn’t know who I was. Obviously, that had to be a lie.

    I didn’t like games, not anymore. Especially not under these circumstances.

    “Is the project real?” I asked him. I watched him closely, looking for even the slightest hint he might be

    lying to me.

    I didn’t see any. “It’s real.”

    With that assurance, I led him back to my office.

    As soon as Julian walked through the door, Anna was on her feet, her eyes wide, stunned. She gawked at him for a moment, as I moved around my desk and sat, then she looked at me for exnation.

    “Please give us a moment, Anna,” I said.

    “Very well,” she replied, but continued looking at Julian all the way until she walked out the door and

    closed it behind her.

    When we were alone, Julian moved closer and sat down on one of the chairs facing my desk. This office

    wasn’t as big as the one I used while I was at the hospital in his pack, and the chairs weren’t quite as nice.

    The one Julian sat in was folding medal that squeaked loudly as Julian sat, the hinges rusty. I tried very hard not to wince. None of this had to be what Julian was ustomed to.

    Still, his eyes were on me, not on the clutter of the room or the pictures on the walls that stayed crooked no matter how many times I tried to correct them.

    “The project is real,” Julian said again. “And with your agreement, we will move forward with it no matter what else is said here today.”

    “I agree,” I said. I had no idea what else he came here to say, but so long as we could move forward with this project, it felt like a victory. “I will support this project in whatever way bI /bcan.”

    “Good,” he said. He reached into his pocket and retrieved a folded up piece of paper. He unfolded it, but the crinkles remained, leaving small squares over the document. “Onto other matters,” he said and

    handed the document to me.

    I looked down at it. Immediately, all the blood drained from my face.

    This was a paternity test that showed Julian was Alice’s father.

    “I only found out after the crash that you were pregnant. First, I thought our child had died in that ne crash alongside you,” Julian said. “Then, when you returned, I thought only the baby had passed. Later, after Roman said he was the father, I had assumed you had an affair.”

    I swallowed thickly, guilt rising within me for having allowed him to feel those stages of grief and loss.