<h4>Chapter 149: Chapter 149 Zane Locke</h4>


    Cecilia’s pov


    I ended the call, turned around - and nearly collided with a man who clearly had no concept of personal space.


    Which was odd, because I could’ve sworn I saw him walk past just a minute ago.


    Now he was standing there like a ghost waiting for his cue in a very awkward off-Broadway show.


    "Uh, can I help you?" I asked, polite but wary.


    I did a quick mental scan of his face and came up nk.


    No recognition.


    Nothing.


    He just stared at me. Hard. Like I was a puzzle he was trying to solve using only his gut.


    Then, in a whisper so faint I almost missed it, he said, "Reba..."


    Okay. Creepy.


    "Sir?" I tried again, injecting some steel into my voice. "Is there something you need?"


    That seemed to snap him out of it.


    He blinked, cleared his throat like a man who’d just realized he was being weird in public. "Sorry. It’s my first time here. Bit turned around. I saw you and thought maybe you could help."


    "Sure," I said, keeping my tone friendly but alert. "This ce is a maze. Which private dining room are you trying to find?"


    "1623."


    "Take that hallway" - I pointed - "third door on the right. Can’t miss it."


    "Thank you," he said, nodding like an actual normal human for a second.


    He turned to go. I exhaled.


    Then he stopped.


    Of course he did.


    "Sorry, but... are you from Denver?"


    "Yes," I said slowly, already regretting my honesty.


    He paused. Tilted his head. "How old are you, if you don’t mind me asking?"


    Okay. We were officially off the map now.


    "I do mind, actually," I said sharply. "And I’m sure your dinner guests are wondering where you went. You should head over."


    His expression shifted - remorseful, maybe, or just socially clumsy. "Please don’t misunderstand. I had a daughter once. She passed a long time ago. But if she’d lived, I imagine she’d look a lot like you, beautiful and graceful as well."


    What the actual hell?


    I stared at him, caught somewhere between horror and secondhand embarrassment. My brain short-circuited in twelve directions at once.


    Nope.


    No thank you.


    Hard pass.


    Without another word, I turned and walked away.


    If he said anything else, I didn’t hear it. I was too busy mentally Googling "How to sage yourself after unsolicited ghost dad energy."


    I didn’t care who he was. As far as I was concerned, he was just another middle-aged man using the tragic-dead-daughter-card as a weird excuse to ask a young woman inappropriate questions in the middle of a restaurant hallway.


    ssic.


    I turned on my heel and speed-walked back toward the private dining room we’d reserved - ready to erase the past five minutes from my mental hard drive - when I nearly collided with someone rounding the corner.


    It was Alpha Yardley, Sebastian’s father, the original tall-dark-Alpha prototype.


    "Alpha Yardley," I said, straightening up and shifting into Professional Secretary Mode?.


    "Secretary Moore," he greeted me with that perfect blend of authority and charm, like a man who could close a business deal and host a charity g in the same breath.


    I’d seen him around thepany a few times - always sharp, alwaysposed. And despite all the spective office gossip about me and his son (thank you, local grapevine), he’d never so much as hinted at it.


    Before I could make a graceful exit, the sound of approaching footsteps made my stomach drop.


    No. No no no.


    Creepy Dead-Daughter Guy had followed me.


    "Yardley," he said with sudden confidence, like he’d just remembered how to be important. "You know this youngdy?"


    "She’s Sebastian’s secretary," Alpha Yardley replied smoothly, before turning to me. "Secretary Moore, this is Zane Locke. He’s the current leader of the Locke family."


    My brain short-circuited.


    Zane Locke?


    As in... Cassian’s "great-uncle"?


    The same family whose member was supposedly helping the Whites?


    And I - just twenty minutes ago - had been on the phone dragging his wife’s name through the metaphorical mud like I was auditioning for a Real Housewives confessional.


    Amazing. Just amazing.


    I turned back to him, instantly snapping into my most polished, boardroom-ready persona.


    "Mr. Locke, it’s a pleasure to meet you properly," I said with a smile that screamed damage control. "I apologize if I came off abrupt earlier."


    Zane Locke waved a hand dismissively, suddenly all gracious statesman. "Not at all. I should apologize for my... inappropriate questions. I wasn’t myself."


    Understatement of the year.


    "Truly, no offense taken," I said smoothly, even as my brain was screaming, Abort mission! Save yourself!


    I turned back to Alpha Yardley. "I won’t keep you, sir. I should get back to my table."


    But of course, the universe wasn’t done toying with me.


    "No need," Yardley said with a smile. "I’ll call Sebastian to join us here. You shoulde with us."


    "...Of course," I replied, voice calm, soul internallybusting.


    And that’s how I found myself walking into private dining room 1623 with the literal patriarch of the Locke family and the father of my boss-sh-maybe-love-interest.


    As I sat down, I couldn’t help feelingpletely out of ce.


    "Secretary Moore," Zane Locke addressed me, "what’s your full name? Do you have a mate?"


    I nearly choked. Now that I knew his position, I couldn’t just ignore him.


    "My name is Cecilia Moore," I replied, deliberately avoiding his second question.


    Zane Locke nodded approvingly. "A beautiful name for a beautiful woman. You have both grace and intelligence - quite rare these days."


    "You’re too kind," I murmured, taking a sip of champagne to hide my difort.


    I could feel his eyes still studying me, and it took all my self-control not to squirm under his gaze.


    Alpha Yardley’s expression shifted subtly as he watched our interaction.


    "Secretary Moore," Zane Locke continued, "are you seeing anyone? My nephew is still unmated..."


    The door opened, saving me from having to respond.


    Alpha Sebastian and Cassian walked in, just in time to hear Zane’s matchmaking attempt.


    I whipped my head around, looking from Alpha Sebastian to Cassian, acutely aware of how bizarre this situation had be.


    Alpha Yardley nodded toward the neers, his expression growing more serious as he looked at Cassian. "Alpha Sebastian,e greet your Uncle Zane."


    Alpha Sebastian approached politely, addressing him with a respectful "Mr. Locke."


    In stark contrast, Cassian bounded over with casual familiarity. "Uncle Yardley! It’s been too long - you’re aging like fine bourbon, you know that?"


    Alpha Yardley eyed Cassian - who was built like a linebacker - with obvious disapproval.


    I could tell he was thinking about all those rumors about Cassian and Alpha Sebastian.


    His expression darkened with each passing second.


    "Cassian," he said, voice tight, "you’ve been spending far too much time in Denver. You’re not getting any younger, and your uncle is already exploring options for you."


    Cassian’s smile turned devilish. Oh no.


    He casually slung an arm around Alpha Sebastian’s shoulders like they were the leads in a supernatural buddyedy.


    "I just like hanging out with Sebastian," he said, stretching the word like taffy. "He’s more fun than any she-wolf I’ve ever met."


    He might as well have set off fireworks spelling out: I’M DOING THIS ON PURPOSE.


    Alpha Yardley’s face paled so fast, I half-expected someone to call a medic.


    "What is he ying at?" wondered, watching Cassian deliberately provoke Alpha Sebastian’s father.


    Zane cleared his throat awkwardly and attempted to defuse the tension. "Children will find their own path. Alpha Sebastian and Cassian are both fine young men, and as for their preferences... well, we shouldn’t be too old-fashioned about these things."


    That was the moment Alpha Yardley entered full crisis mode.


    Then his eyes locked onto me - sharp, desperate, and wildly inappropriate. Like a man spotting a life raft and deciding, Yep, I’m jumping.


    Then, as if struck by sudden inspiration, his gazended on me like a drowning man spotting a life preserver.


    "My son is interested in women!" he blurted. "Everyone at thepany says he’s dating Secretary Moore!"


    Excuse me, WHAT?


    I had been minding my own business - quietly sipping champagne, fullymitted to staying out of this soap opera - when suddenly I was cast as the female lead in a scandal I did not audition for.


    I choked.


    Hard.


    "NOPE," I said, nearly knocking over my cup. My hands iled like I was trying to swat away the usation itself.


    "No, no, absolutely not! We are not dating. Those are just rumors - I swear on my paycheck, they are NOT TRUE."