"Mr. Claude, your designs and the overall concept of this gala are simply stunning. Clearly, a lot of thought went into it."
A journalist approached Claude, who stood at the entrance, his smile polished and effortless. The faint trace of his omega pheromones clung to the air, subtle but alluring, drawing people in without them realizing.
The Ulrick Jewels Gala had drawn prominent alphas, omegas, and betas alike—businessmen, reporters, and socialites. Everyone was captivated by the shimmering displays, the evening resembling more an exhibition than a celebration.
Every entry from the design competition, starting from the preliminary rounds, was presented for the guests. The ten finalist pieces, dazzling under the lights, commanded the center stage.
"These designs prove, without a shadow of doubt, that Ulrick's employees are truly top-notch," the journalist added.
Claude offered a practiced smile, radiant yet measured. "I imagine tonight will be very interesting."
"Of course. Please, look forward to it," Claude replied smoothly.
After a polite handshake, the journalist excused himself and stepped into the function hall. Claude's smile lingered only until his back was turned. Then he shifted toward Eren, who stood a few steps behind him.
"I'll head inside to make sure everything is ready for the program. Stay here and continue welcoming the guests," Claude said lightly, though his tone carried the faint edge of command, the kind that made Eren's instincts bristle.
"Yes, I will," Eren answered quietly, fighting to keep his scent steady.
With a graceful nod, Claud emoved toward the entrance. Just before slipping inside, his expression softened into something unreadable—part satisfaction, part calculation—quickly gone before anyone could notice.
For Claude, it was enough to know Eren would be occupied. Some matters, especially those concerning Adriel, required space to be handled without interruption.
"Eren?"
The omega turned at the sound of a familiar voice. Laylah stood at the doorway with her husband, Akira.
"What are you doing here?" Laylah asked, puzzled to find Eren in business attire, dutifully welcoming guests at such an event. The air around him still carried the faintest unsteady trace of exhaustion in his pheromones, though he tried to mask it.
"Hi," Eren replied quietly as the couple approached—friends of Adriel, now catching him in a role he never truly wanted.
"Hi?" Laylah's brows furrowed the moment she spotted him. Her gaze sharpened, and her omega instincts prickled with protective indignation. "Don't tell me Adriel made you work again. Honestly—your mate leaves his unbonded, pregnant omega standing at the door like some greeter?" She turned on her husband, her voice rising. "Akira, your friend has no idea how to take care of what's his. Where is he when he should be shielding Eren from this?"
"How should I know? I'm not glued to him twenty-four-seven," Akira replied, lifting his hands in mock surrender.
"You alphas are all the same," Laylah shot back, her irritation crackling like sparks. "No care for how your omegas are treated. If my instincts are flaring just looking at this, what does that say about him?"
"Why am I suddenly dragged into this?" Akira chuckled, though there was tension beneath his voice. "Adriel's your only target, not me."
"You're his best friend. Birds of a feather," Laylah retorted. "And honestly, what kind of alpha lets his carrying omega play hostess at the door? Pregnant, unbonded, and exposed to every stranger's scent—do you know how dangerous that is? It makes my blood boil."
Eren bit his lip, forcing a faint smile, choosing silence over defense. His scent trembled faintly—sweet but thin, betraying his unease.
"So what exactly are you doing here?" Akira asked, shifting his gaze to him.
"I'm the secretary of the new chief designer who organized this event. Of course, I have to follow his instructions," Eren replied softly.
"Claude?" Akira blinked. "You're his secretary? Adriel never mentioned that to me."
"Claude?" Laylah repeated, her eyes widening as she looked from her husband to Eren. The name hung in the air like a spark before fire.
Eren glanced uneasily at them both, his silence confirming what Laylah already feared.
"That arrogant omega actually came back?" Laylah's voice sharpened with disbelief and fury. "He has the audacity to show his face after what he did to Adriel?" Her anger burned through every word, her pheromones spiking sharp with protectiveness.
"And your friend," she snapped at Akira. "What was he thinking? He lets his ex-fiancé into the company—an omega, no less—and allows him to boss Eren around like a servant? Honestly, Akira, Adriel is testing every ounce of my patience. Best friend or not, I don't think I can forgive him for this."
"Relax," Akira said, catching her hand gently, though his expression was tight. "I'm sure Adriel has his reasons for bringing Claude back into the company."
Eren's chest tightened again. Reasons. There were always reasons. And yet, standing at the door, smiling at strangers while carrying Adriel's child, he couldn't help but wonder if that's all he was to him—just another reason. Never truly a choice.
"I can't relax," Laylah snapped, her voice sharp enough to cut. "Adriel is draining every ounce of my patience. You and I both know what he went through when that Claude walked out on him. And now, just like that, he lets Claude back into his orbit? What does he think you are, Eren—some placeholder Omega, waiting obediently while he toys with ghosts of the past? Claude may have been his first love, and yes, I understand how hard that is to forget… especially after three years spent thinking only of him—"
Laylah froze, the words hanging in the charged air like a flare. Her eyes widened as she realized who stood before her, who she had just spoken them to.
"Eren—I didn't mean—"
"It's fine," Eren interrupted softly, his voice steady but too quiet, like thin glass before a crack. "I'm not blind to the history they share."
But inside, his chest ached as though her words had clawed something raw open again. His scent wavered, betraying him—a faint, distressed tang of crushed violets bleeding into the air before he managed to pull it back under control.
Silence stretched, heavy and brittle. Eren's mind caught on Laylah's tone—her fury was too sharp, too personal. The way she said Claude's name wasn't just anger. There was something more in it. Something that felt closer to betrayal than simple hatred.
"Forgive me," Laylah said, her face still tight, shoulders rigid with emotion. "I just… I can't help myself. Knowing how Adriel suffered because of him—"
Eren forced a small smile, easier than showing how unsteady he felt inside. But as Laylah's scent burned sharp with anger, his own curiosity gnawed harder. What exactly had happened in the past between Claude, Adriel… and Laylah?