<b>Chapter </b><b>40 </b>
<b>Reba’s </b>POV
I stared at the envelope contents, my heart skipping several beats. A sleek ck credit card rested against the cream–colored paper, embossed with nothing but the Sterling logo and my name. Beside ity a handwritten note in Dominic’s sharp<b>, </b>decisive handwriting<b>: </b>“Use <b>as </b>needed. No limit. -D.S.”
My fingers trembled as I picked up the card, a cold sweat breaking on my forehead. Its weight felt substantial in my palm–heavier than any card I’d ever held. I’d seen these exclusive ck cards in movies, glimpsed them in the hands <b>of </b>celebrities, but never in my wildest dreams imagined holding one myself.
A storm of emotions crashed through me. Gratitude tangled with unease, appreciation wrestled with <b>suspicion</b>. Was this trust or ownership? I swallowed hard, my mouth suddenly dry. Whatever our arrangement, this gesture felt overwhelming, too <b>intimate</b>, too fast. I carefully returned the card to the envelope, my jaw tightening with resolve. I would use it only in absolute <b>emergencies</b><b>–</b>my pride
wouldn’t allow anything else<b>. </b>
My phone chimed with an email notification. I opened it, eyes widening as I read the confirmation from Sterling Private Medical Center about my father’s treatment n. The detailed schedule listed cutting–edge procedures I’d only read about in medical journals. Treatment would begin in three days–much faster than I’d anticipated. My shoulders rxed slightly. At least Dominic was keeping his word on that
front.
With renewed hope, I dialed my mother’s number. After several rings<b>, </b>she picked up.
“Reba? So you finally remembered to call home?” Her voice carried the familiar tone of usation that made my stomach clench.
I inhaled deeply, forcing brightness into my voice. “Hi, Mom. I have good news<b>! </b>I’ve secured a job, and Dad’s surgery <b>is </b>scheduled. It’s happening in three days at a top–tier hospital.”
“Oh?” Skepticism colored her response. “You’ve been gone for a week without a single call. We were starting to think something terrible happened.”
1 paced the room<b>, </b>fingers tightening around the phone. “I’m sorry. I’ve been incredibly busy sorting out the job and Dad’s medical
arrangements<b>.</b>”
“Too busy to call your parents?” She sighed heavily, the sound like a weight pressing on my chest. “Is that what happens when you move to the big city? You forget about family?<b>” </b>
Her words stabbed at me. I sat down hard on <b>the </b>edge <b>of </b>the bed, eyes burning. “Mom, that’s not fair. I’ve been working non–stop to help
you both.”
“Your father is very ill, and his only daughter can’t evene see him.” Her voice thickened with emotion, the familiar tactic that always worked. ‘He asks about you every day, wondering when you’ll visit.”
I closed my eyes, guilt washing over me like acid. My free hand curled into a fist, nails digging into my palm. Ille as soon as I can, once things settle with the new job.”
<b>“</b>Speaking of jobs, her tone shifted abruptly, this month’s bills arrived. Can you send some money home? Now that you’re employed, surely you can help with expenses.<b>” </b>
I bit my lip until I tasted blood. “Mom, I haven’t received my first paycheck yet. I’ll send money as soon <b>as </b><b>I </b>can.”
(64)
After hanging up, I sat motionless, feeling hollowed out. No matter what I did, it never seemed enough. My gaze drifted to the ck <b>card </b>peeking from the envelope. With it, I could easily solve my family’s financial problems with a single phone call, but my fingers refused <b>to </b>reach for it. Using Dominic’s money for this felt wrong, a line I wasn’t ready to cross. This was my responsibility, not his.
Hourster, I sat in a café near Sofia’s workce, waiting for her to finish her shift. I hadn’t ordered anything, just upying a table while lost in thought. The server had passed by several times, each nce growing increasingly impatient until her shadow fell across <b>my </b>
table.
“Ma’am, are you nning to order something?” she finally asked, her tone clipped, eyes flicking to other waiting customers.
I shrank in my seat, cheeks warming. “I’m waiting for someone, thank you,” I replied softly.
‘Tables are for paying customers<b>. </b><b>If </b>you’re not ordering, we’ll need this space for others.” Her meaning was <b>clear</b><b>, </b>her expression making me feel smaller by the second.
Heart sinking, I ordered the cheapest coffee on the menu, hating the waste of precious dors on something I didn’t really want. When it arrived, I stared into the dark liquid, then absently began sketching clothing designs on a napkin. A few simple lines formed the silhouette of a dress, and I found myself adding details, my fingers moving with muscle memory, imagination supplying fabric and
texture.
I would have to put my dream of studying fashion design on hold. The thought made my chest ache. My father’s health and my family’s financial situation had toe first. My pencil hesitated, then continued its path across the napkin. That didn’t mean I couldn’t keep practicing in my spare time.
“Is that a dress designed to make my hips look less like I’ve been smuggling watermelons<b>?</b>” a familiar voice asked.
I looked up, relief flooding through me as I saw Sofia standing beside my table, her bright smile instantly lifting the weight from my shoulders. “Sofia!” My voice cracked with genuine happiness<b>. </b>
She slid into the seat across from me, her eyes studying my face intently, missing nothing. “Your eyes look like a rain–soaked forest. What’s wrong?”
I tried to smile, but my lips trembled at the edges. “Just tired. Had a call with my mom.”
Sofia’s gaze softened with understanding. She reached across and squeezed my hand, her touch warm and grounding. ‘Let me guess–the you’ve forgotten your family‘ speech?”
1 nodded gratefully, throat too tight for words.
“Well, forget that for now, Sofia said, her expression turning mischievous, eyes sparkling. ‘Guess who I met? A very suitable man!”
‘Really?‘ My interest piqued despite my mood, grateful for the distraction.
Sofiaunched into an animated story about meeting a photographer at a fashion event–how charming and talented he was, and how obviously smitten with her. Her colorful descriptions and exaggerated gestures had meughing despite myself, the knot in my chest gradually loosening.
<b>“</b>…and then he tried to act all cool but tripped over his camera strap and crashed into the champagne tower!‘ She mimicked his <b>panicked </b>expression, eyes wide and mouth agape. “Drenched in champagne, he looked at me and said, ‘I just wanted to add some sparkle <b>to </b><b>the </b><b>party</b>.“”
Iughed until my sides hurt, temporarily forgetting my troubles. Sofia always knew exactly how to pull me from the darkness.
As our conversation wound down, she squeezed my hand again, her expression turning serious. “Whatever happens, I’m always here for you, Reba. Remember that.”
64
After leaving the café, I decided it was time to retrieve my personal belongings from William’s apartment, especially my design sketches. Raymond drove Dominic’s ck Bentley while I sat in the back seat, my heart pounding as I gave him William’s address.
“You’re going to Mr. Moretti’s apartment?” Raymond asked, eyebrows raised as he caught my gaze in the rearview mirror.
Mated by Contract to the Alpha
<b>Chapter </b><b>41 </b>
Reba’s POV