Page 26 of Beautifully Scarred Omega

“Here we are.” She turns to face me, her expression encouraging. “Mr. Cavill is in a meeting right now, but he said to send you right in when you arrived.”

She gives my arm a light squeeze, and I resist the instinct to pull away.

“Good luck,” she says. “I’m sure you’ll do great.”

I thank her and watch her disappear back down the corridor. Then I take a breath and push open the door.

I’d braced for a big office with expensive art and designer furniture. Instead, there’s a large wooden desk by the window, shelves, two leather couches, and not much else. No frills. Everything exactly in its place, down to the black pen lying parallel to the edge of the desk. It feels like the office of a man who doesn’t tolerate chaos, and somehow that unsettles me more.

My eyes land on the man standing by the window.

Blue eyes. Dirty blond hair, perfectly styled. A charcoal suit that fits him like it was sewn directly onto his body.

Finn.

The world tilts.

No. No, no, no.

I freeze in the doorway as those blue eyes meet mine. The same eyes that watched me across a moonlit terrace, then darkened in his suite when I leaned in to kiss him. The same eyes that have haunted my sleep for the past two weeks, no matter how hard I tried to forget them.

Finn Preston. Pack Cavill.

He looks as shocked as I feel, but only for a moment. Then his expression smooths into something polite and distant, and he straightens from his position by the window.

“Hello, Sophie.” His voice is cool and even, nothing like the warm, easy tone that I remember so well from that night.

I realize I’ve stopped breathing. I force air into my lungs, grateful beyond words for the suppressants dulling my senses. If I could smell him right now, that sunlight and honey scent that almost made me forget myself, I don’t know what I’d do.

I glance around the office, desperately hoping someone else is here, a secretary, a cleaning person, anyone at all.

We’re alone.

“Are you—” My voice comes out strangled. I clear my throat and try again. “Please don’t tell me you’re Pack Cavill.”

“Yep.” The word is flat. “My name is still Finn Preston, and yes, I’m Pack Cavill.” He tilts his head, his eyes moving over my face slowly, like he’s trying to work something out. “Small world.”

Small world. Right.

The universe is fucking with me. There’s no other explanation. The universe looked at my life and decided it wasn’t complicated enough, so it arranged for me to be assigned to the pack of the alpha I accidentally kissed while hunting a different alpha.

“Max and Ethan are in meetings,” Finn continues. “They should be here soon.”

He doesn’t offer his hand or move closer, just stands there watching me, his eyes colder than they ever were that night.

Something about his distance makes my hackles rise.

“You said you worked in marketing,” I say, the words coming out more accusatory than I intended. “For a medical company.”

“I do.” A ghost of a smile crosses his face, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “I’m the Chief Marketing Officer of Synthera. So technically, I wasn’t lying.”

Technically. The word grates against my nerves.

“And you work in accounting?” He raises an eyebrow. “Or was that also... technically true?”

I deserve that. I know I deserve that. But it still stings.

“I was undercover when we met.” The admission comes out stiff. “Working a case.”