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Louis's POV
I stared at the blue suit he held up, the one he was so proud of. By now, it was already 9:30, but Alistair insisted I look my best while doing business. He was so excited — I couldn't help but tag along with his energy.
"This blue suit really suits your eyes," he said, smiling brightly. "It matches that deep ocean color. The dark blue jacket, the black t-shirt underneath — it's perfect. Everything matches. Oh, and these shoes too!"
He pointed to another outfit next. "This red one is really nice, too. I like it. It's more mellow. The blue looks plain and formal, but the red feels… strong, you know?"
I didn't know what to say. Watching Alistair so happy made it hard to interrupt him. Finally, I asked quietly, "Weren't you the one angry that I was leaving?"
He stopped for a second, then smiled softly. "When your man is doing something that'll make him successful, would you not encourage him?"
His answer made me pause — and smile. It made me happy.
He picked up a black turtleneck and matched it with some pants. "Ah, Charles bought that one," I said, smiling faintly. The maid stood in the corner, carefully packing all the outfits Alistair had chosen. By this point, three suitcases were already full.
"I'm only going to be gone for a month," I reminded him gently as he reached for another shirt.
He looked at me for a moment, puzzled, then sighed. "Fine."
Then, suddenly, tears slipped down his face as he wrapped his arms around me.
"I'm going to miss you," he said. "Even though you're annoying, a jerk, and you hide things from me — I'm still going to miss you. Alistair and Louis, that's what we are."
I couldn't help but laugh softly and flick his forehead. "I'll come back safely," I promised. "I'll come back home."
But deep down, I knew the truth — that when I returned, I might not be the same. I might come back tainted, stripped of a part of my conscience or my virtues.
Still, I would come back.
Even if I came back a different person.
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Charles' POV
The party was lively — as always.
Anna had a way of lighting up an entire room. Her laughter spilled through the air like champagne, bright and effervescent. Standing beside her, it was hard not to get swept up in it. For a moment, I forgot all my worries — all the thoughts I tried so hard to bury.
She was a troublemaker when she wanted to be, and that was exactly what I needed: someone reckless enough to make me forget everything. And it helped that she was a pureblood Alpha — full of energy, impossible to tire, impossible to ignore.
"Charles, what are you thinking about?" she shouted suddenly over the music. Then, without waiting for an answer, she threw her arms up and sang at the top of her lungs,
"Acting on your worst behavior_,Turn your back on all the haters_,Everybody wants to rule the world!."
Her voice wasn't perfect — far from it — but it was loud, alive, and real.
"Come on!" she laughed, spinning toward me. "Won't you sing with me? Use that angelic voice you always taunt me with, please? It's my favorite song!"
I couldn't help but smile. Anna's enthusiasm was contagious.
"In fact," she continued, eyes gleaming, "let's make this even better! I already set up a karaoke session. We're not just dancing tonight — we're singing too! Though…" she leaned closer, lowering her voice mischievously, "…I doubt the gang will agree. Most of them sound like frogs when they try to sing."
She pointed toward a group of Alphas laughing and drinking near the stage, and I couldn't hold back a small chuckle.
That was Anna — bold, loud, and unapologetically alive. The kind of person who could make chaos feel like comfort.
The music was so loud that I barely heard my own thoughts — but then I felt a vibration in my pocket.
Anna noticed. Her gaze followed my hand as I pulled out my phone.
"My mother," I muttered.
Anna leaned in, grinning. "Go on, pick it up! You don't want your mom to get mad. Remember last time you tried ignoring her? She reported to my mom, saying I was a bad influence. I am not going through that again."
I glared at her. "Do you have to remind me of that? That was when we were kids, Anna — I was sneaking out to see that girl who cheated on me with my cousin. That's why I avoided Mom."
Anna just laughed. "Still, go take it, lover boy."
I sighed, rolling my eyes, and left for a quieter corner of the hall.
The moment I picked up, my mother's voice rang through, sharp and familiar.
"Charles! Where are you? I hope you're not hanging around that Anna girl again. If you are, tell me so I can talk to her mother. You know she can be such a handful."
I rubbed the bridge of my nose. "Yes, Mother. I'm with Anna. She's not that bad, okay? She's… a good person."
"I know, I know," she said with a dramatic sigh. "She's just too much sometimes. Anyway, that's not what I called for. I just got back from lunch with the girls — Anna's mother included, of course — and Alistair told me that Louis has gone on a business trip for a month! Can you believe that? Your father didn't even tell me either. I'm so disappointed in both of them! I know I've been staying out of things lately because I wanted to give you boys your independence, but a whole month? Without telling me?"
I froze.
Louis… gone?
Gone for a month?
I didn't know what to feel. Shock first. Then disbelief. Then something much deeper — something that hurt.
I thought I'd be relieved when he left. Happy, even. He was infuriating — always calm, always looking at Alistair like he hung the stars himself. He made me feel invisible, inferior… jealous.
But instead of relief, I felt hollow. Empty.
His presence, for all its irritation, was… grounding. I didn't realize how much I'd gotten used to it — the sound of his voice, his quiet footsteps in the hall, the faint way he'd look at me like he knew something I didn't.
I'd sworn to get back at him — to steal Alistair's attention, to make Louis feel what I felt. But how could I do that when he wasn't here? How could I hate someone who'd already left?
How could I feel so lost without the person I swore I despised?
I didn't realize I'd gone silent until my mother's voice snapped me back.
"Charles? Are you even listening? You're probably playing charades with that Anna girl again!"
I cleared my throat. "No, Mother. I'm listening."
My gaze dropped to my shoes — worn, comfortable sneakers. Purple ones. Louis's favorite color.
I let out a shaky laugh under my breath.
Yeah. I was cooked. Completely and utterly cooked.