Alpha's Regret: Losing His True Mate-Chapter 166

The swing set creaked. Back and forth. Back and forth.

Liora stared at her shoes, scuffing the woodchips on the ground. It hadn’t always been like this. When she was abroad, sometimes she wouldn’t see Mom for two, maybe three months. But the phone never stopped ringing. Every single day, like clockwork. And whenever she called, even if it was the middle of the night there, Mom would pick up. She’d rush home just to cook Liora’s favorite soup.

But now? She has called four times and mom had given her four days of silence.

This had never happened before. Not ever.

Harry watched her from the next swing over. He felt like an intruder in a grief he wasn’t supposed to know about. He knew, of course. Everyone in their circle knew the divorce papers were signed. He knew Dante had taken full custody. But hearing it from a six-year-old’s mouth, seeing that raw, confused look in her eyes... it was different. It was ugly.

"Your mom definitely isn’t ignoring your calls on purpose," Harry said, his voice sounding too loud, too fake in the quietness. "She’s probably just... swamped. You know how work gets. It’ll be okay after a while."

Liora nodded slowly. "Yeah. Dad said the same."

Harry’s jaw tightened. He looked away.

Daisy, sensing the heavy cloud, tugged on Liora’s sleeve. "I wanna see Auntie too," she whispered, trying to be brave. "But Uncle Harry says Auntie’s busy. Adults are always busy. It’s ’cause they have to buy us toys, right? It’ll be okay."

"Okay," Liora mumbled.

Harry didn’t say anything else. He hadn’t called Elodie. Not because he thought she was busy. goddess, no. He was terrified to call. The divorce had just gone through. She’d lost custody. If he called, if he asked her to come hang out with Daisy... wouldn’t that just be rubbing salt in the wound? Hey, look at the kid you can’t see anymore. Want to babysit? He wasn’t that cruel. He was just... useless.

Five o’clock hit. The sun was starting to dip, painting the sky a bruised purple. A sleek, black Bentley pulled up to the curb, and Dante got out.

He left his long wool coat in the car, standing there in a charcoal suit that fit him like a second skin. He didn’t walk; he prowled. Even in a theme park, he looked like he owned the place.

"Dad!"

It was like a switch flipped. Liora launched herself off the swing, forgetting Harry, forgetting Daisy, forgetting the silence of the last week.

Dante’s face, usually a mask of cold indifference, cracked just a fraction. He bent down, sweeping her up into his arms like she weighed nothing. He pinched her cheek, which was a rare, and tender gesture. "Did you have fun today with Uncle Harry and Daisy?"

Liora buried her face in his neck, breathing him in. "Yeah! It was fun!"

She refused to be put down. Dante didn’t seem to mind. He carried her, heavy as she was, all the way into the restaurant.

Inside the private room, the air was warm, smelling of truffle oil and expensive wine. Dante finally set her down, smoothing her hair. He turned to Harry, his expression shutting down again, the friendly father vanishing to reveal the CEO. "Thanks for taking care of her today."

"No trouble," Harry said, leaning back in his chair, swirling the ice in his glass. "They played by themselves most of the time. I was just the wallet."

He watched Dante pour juice for Liora, the picture of the doting father. The two kids were huddled over a menu, whispering. Harry leaned forward, lowering his voice. The casual act was over.

"I know the custody is with you," Harry said, keeping his eyes locked on Dante’s. "But... how did you both arrange her visitation rights?"

The room went quiet. Not scary quiet. Just... heavy.

Dante paused. He looked up, and a slow, sharp smile spread across his face. It wasn’t a nice smile. It was the smile of a man who just heard a challenge.

"Do you think," Dante said, his voice silky smooth, and dangerous, "I’m not letting her come see the child?"

Harry didn’t blink. He held Dante’s gaze, unbothered. He picked up his glass and took a slow sip.

Harry had thought that. He’d absolutely thought Dante was the kind of man who’d change the locks just to prove a point.

Dante picked up his porcelain cup, the fine china clinking softly against the saucer and then he took a slow sip of his tea, his eyes hooded, unreadable. "Although the custody is with me," he said, setting the cup down with a sharp click, "the agreement clearly states that as long as she wants to see the child, she can see her. Anytime. Without restrictions."

Harry blinked. He hadn’t expected that. He’d expected a fight, a legal loophole, something. Not... open doors.

Just then, Liora let out a giggle from the other side of the table, pointing at a drawing Daisy had made. The conversation died instantly. The wall between the men went back up.

Dante turned his gaze to the window, then back to Harry, his tone shifting, becoming casual. Too casual. "I heard you’ve been in touch with Cole recently?"

Harry froze for a split second. "Yeah." He recovered quickly, tilting his head. "What about you? No intentions there?"

Dante leaned back, draping an arm over the back of his chair as a picture of a man with all the time in the world. "Not decided yet," he said, a small, enigmatic smile playing on his lips. "It’s still early. I’m not in a hurry."

"Mm," Harry hummed. He didn’t believe a word of it.

Elodie’s thesis was a monster that refused to die.

She spent a day and a half drowning in it, surrounded by empty coffee cups and the blue light of her laptop. By Sunday evening, her eyes were burning. She met Cara for dinner, at some noisy place with good wine and they walked for two hours through the city, just moving, not talking about anything important. It was quiet. Peaceful. No phones ringing.

And then Monday morning came too fast.

Elodie walked into Cole Technologies like she owned the place. Because, technically, she kind of did. Johnny was gone, he flew out Wednesday for some emergency investor meeting in the European Pack. Left her holding the fort.

And everyone decided this was the week to attack.

Rex Hardin showed up Thursday.

Elodie was in the middle of debugging a line of code when her assistant buzzed. "Miss Miller? Mr. Hardin is here. He doesn’t have an appointment, but he’s... insistent."

Elodie sighed, and saved her work, and stood up. She smoothed down her blouse. "Send him to Meeting Room B. I’ll be right there."

She walked down the hall, her heels clicking a steady rhythm. When she pushed the door open, Rex was standing by the window, looking impatient. He turned, expecting Johnny.

When he saw her, his face fell. Just an inch. But she saw it.

"Hello, Mr. Hardin," Elodie said, walking straight to the head of the table. She didn’t wait for him to sit. She extended a hand, her expression polite, professional, yet ice-cold. "My name is Elodie Miller. Johnny flew out of town yesterday. He’s not at Cole. I’m handling all matters here now. If you have anything to discuss, you can talk to me just as well."

Handling everything? Rex’s brain practically screamed the words.

He shook her hand. It was a limp, perfunctory shake. Who the hell is she? he thought, pulling his hand back. Johnny’s girlfriend? His secretary with delusions of grandeur?

He sat down slowly, eyeing her. Does she even know what we do?

It was laughable. Absolutely laughable. He was here to discuss a multi-million dollar tech merger, and she came in alone. No laptop. No notepad. No tech team. Just... her.

But Johnny was obsessed with her. The whole Pack knew it. So Rex swallowed his scoff. He sat back, crossing his legs, and slid a thick manila folder across the glass table. It landed with a heavy thwack.

"Then I’ll trouble you, Miss Miller," he said, the skepticism dripping from his voice.

He gestured to the folder. "This is our company’s proposal. Lots of technical specs. It’s... dense. Take a look."

Elodie pulled the folder toward her. She didn’t open it. Not yet. She just looked at him, her gaze was unimpressed.

"Okay," she said, her voice even. "I’ll take a look."