Chapter 119 – Zander POV
I don't know why my fiancé came into my office, dropped to his knees, and sucked the literal soul out of me—but I'm not about to question it.
Now he's perched comfortably in my lap, nestled against my chest like a satisfied cat, his fingers playing lazily with my collar. I'm boneless in my chair, half-asleep, half-blissed-out, holding him like he's the cure for stress. Which—honestly—he might be.
Lately, Ivan's presence has become synonymous with peace. With rest. With satisfaction.
My body's begun to form a dangerous habit. It's started linking Ivan's scent, his warmth, his touch—and our increasingly frequent office rendezvous—with end-of-day calm. Now, all it takes is one brush of his fingers and I feel like I could knock out for hours.
And just as I'm on the verge of drifting off—
"So," Ivan says casually, "I met your fiancée before I came over."
And just like that, my sleep packs its bags and leaps out the window.
I crack one eye open. "How was he doing? Because I just met my fiancée too. Gave me a spectacular surprise. On his knees, no less."
Ivan lightly smacks my chest, trying not to smile. "You know that's not what I meant."
"I'm serious," I murmur, holding him tighter. "I only have one fiancée. And he's currently in my arms, being incredibly distracting and gorgeous."
He sighs and rolls his eyes like I'm being difficult, but I can feel the warmth in his chest where it presses to mine.
"Anyway," he continues, tone light but eyes sharp, "she told me to break up with you. Said I should be your side piece instead."
My mood shifts instantly.
Just like that, the haze of pleasure vanishes.
I tense, and Ivan notices.
"Don't scowl," he says gently, brushing his thumb over the wrinkle forming between my brows. "It mars your handsome face. Though you're still devastatingly handsome either way."
I exhale slowly, trying to keep my voice steady. "I made it clear to them. "
"Apparently not clear enough," he mutters.
I close my eyes and tilt my forehead against his. "I'm sorry."
"I'm not blaming you," he says, cupping my cheek. "It's not your fault you're handsome and perfect and come from a stuffy legacy family that can't mind their own business."
I huff a dry laugh at that, but there's a knot forming in my chest. I know Ivan loves me. I know he's not going anywhere. But it's one thing to say that—and another thing entirely to watch someone try to chip away at him like he's less-than. Like he's temporary.
He's not.
He's everything.
Which means it might be time for me to pay the Browns a little visit.
"Anyway," Ivan says, pushing off my chest, "I should be going."
"What? Already?" I ask, reluctantly loosening my arms.
"I saw that hand, Zander. You're not fooling me." He lifts a brow as he hops off my lap. "I'm not falling for your not so subtle seduction."
"It wasn't seduction," I protest, even though, okay—maybe I was slowly sliding my fingers up the inside of his thigh while we were talking.
Ivan crosses his arms and gives me a look.
"Okay, maybe it was," I admit. "But what's wrong with that? It's not like we haven't fooled around in my office before. We literally just did a few minutes ago."
"I've changed my mind," he announces dramatically, brushing invisible dust off his shirt. "See you at home, Zander."
And with that, he turns and walks away with an exaggerated sway of his hips, tossing a teasing smile over his shoulder.
I sit there, stunned, watching him go—and then burst into laughter. A real one. One that comes from the chest and leaves me lighter.
My omega just declared war with a wink and a sway, and I fully intend to retaliate. He's going to regret his actions when I get home later today.