⋆ Chapter 55

“Matilda…”

I glared at Rafael first—the nerve of this man. I let out a sharp laugh. “You want me to hang up on *my boss*?”

“You’re already done for the day.”

“Okay, first of all, you don’t get to tell me what I can and can’t do. I just met you, like, *ten hours ago*, Rafael. You don’t know anything about me, or my job, or my life. You don’t even know what this call’s about.”

“I know it’s not good for you.”

“Oh, and you’re suddenly the expert on what’s good for me?” I stood, my chair scraping back. “I need a minute.”

Before he could argue, I grabbed my bag and made a beeline for the ladies’ room, pressing the answer button as soon as I slipped inside.

Cillian’s voice came through, low and immediately agitated. “What took you so long to answer?”

I rolled my eyes at the mirror. “Nice to hear from you too.”

“Don’t be coy, Pet.”

I took a breath. “I was in the middle of something.”

“Really? Like what? I heard you left in a rush today. Where are you?”

“Why do you need to know?”

“Because you’re not in your apartment.”

“Wait…” I narrowed my eyes. “Are you in my apartment *right now*?”

“No,” he said, a beat too dry. “Leo is.”

“What?” My voice pitched up. “That cretin! *Why*?”

“To give you the dress you’ll be wearing for tonight’s date with Madelaine Shrew.” His voice sharpened. “Or have you already forgotten the date you forced me into going?”

My brain did a backflip. “Of course I didn’t forget.”

There was a pause on the other end. “You set the date, Tilly.”

I groaned into my hand. “I know. My alarm just literally went off—forget it!.”

“I can tell. Where are you and what are you doing?”

Instead of answering, I replied instead, “I’m sorry I have a life that doesn’t just revolve around your blood-sucking calendar.”

“Then maybe don’t schedule my dates for me.”

“Maybe don’t be a complete pain in the ass!”

There was another pause. Then, strangely, a low chuckle.

I hated how warm it made my chest feel.

“I don’t have time to go home and change,” I hissed into the phone as I stalked back toward the ladies’ room exit. “I’ve sent you the address. I’ll head there now.”

“No,” Cillian replied flatly. “You’re not showing up in whatever you’re wearing right now.”

“I look fine!”

“I don’t care if you’re dressed like Cleopatra, Pet. You’re wearing the dress.”

“Are you seriously doing this right now?”

“I warned you. You’re the one who insisted on setting this date up. The least you can do is stick to the plan.”

I closed my eyes and swore under my breath. “Fine. Tell Leo to leave the damn thing outside my door. I’ll go home and change, happy?”

“Thrilled,” he said. “And, again, where are you?”

“None of your business,” I snapped, jabbing the red button to end the call before he could say anything else.

I hung up and leaned on the sink for a second, staring at my reflection.

What is my life?

I splashed some water on my face and headed back out to Rafael, who was still sitting there, looking like a very handsome, very disapproving statue.

“That was Cillian,” he said, not even bothering to make it a question.

I sat down and grabbed my half-finished shake. “Yes. And don’t start.”

“Tell me. Really. Is there something going on between the two of you?”

“No,” I said quickly. Too quickly. “It’s just work.”

He didn’t look convinced. “It doesn’t look like just work.”

“Enough about Cillian.” I leaned back in my chair and crossed my arms. “Okay, so, what exactly was so important that Xavier had to run off to France without giving me a straight answer? What was this mysterious ‘pack business’ that he couldn’t even tell me when he’d be back?”

Rafael didn’t answer right away. Just gave me that unreadable look, the one Xavier was so damn good at. Apparently, it was a skill they all shared.

“Let me guess,” I continued, my voice sharper now. “One—he’s on some secret werewolf mission where everyone has to pretend I don’t exist for my own safety.”

Still nothing from Rafael. He was watching me calmly, but I could see the tension creeping into his shoulders.

“Two—he’s being initiated into some ancient supernatural brotherhood where telling humans anything gets you kicked out.”

His mouth twitched, but he still didn’t speak.

I leaned forward. “Or three—he met his mate, didn’t he?”

That did it.

Rafael shifted slightly in his seat. It was small—barely noticeable—but I caught it. My chest tightened, a lump forming in my throat I didn’t want to deal with.

I stared at him. “That’s it, isn’t it? He found his mate?”

“I didn’t say that,” Rafael replied smoothly, but he wouldn’t meet my eyes anymore.

“You didn’t have to,” I muttered, sitting back.

“He’ll explain everything once he’s back,” Rafael said gently.

“When?” I asked.

He hesitated. “I don’t know.”

I huffed out a bitter laugh. “Of course you don’t. Rafael—look.” I ran a hand through my hair. “Xavier left without telling me what was really going on. And now you show up out of nowhere, acting like I owe you both answers. Do you really expect me to explain everything to you, when he couldn’t even bother to explain it to me?”

He said nothing, just watched me quietly.

“You can tell him…” I started, then hesitated. For a second, I considered telling him the truth. About the Keeper thing. The deal. The app. The dates. But something in me didn’t trust him—not yet. I barely knew him.

So instead, I finished with, “Just tell him I’m going to see him again soon.” Then I stood, grabbing my bag. “I’ve got to go.”

“Tilly—”

“Thanks for the sandwich,” I said, already walking out the door.

Outside, I flagged the first cab I saw and gave my address. There was no way I was going to make it on time, not unless the cab sprouted wings and flew me over rush hour traffic.

I texted Cillian: I’m on my way.

No reply.

When I reached my apartment, true to his word, the dress was hanging in a garment bag on the door handle. I snatched it and let myself in, tossing everything aside. No time to shower. I stripped, threw on deodorant, and slid into the dress.

Red. Again. Of course.

But this one was… more daring. It hugged every curve, stopping high on my thighs. Sleeveless. A little glittery shimmer near the neckline that dipped just enough to hint, not scream.

I stared at myself in the mirror and groaned. “Why is it always red?”

Still, I had to admit—I looked good. Not exactly subtle, but good.

I grabbed my heels and rushed out the door.