Alpha's Regret: Losing His True Mate-Chapter 91

ELODIE’S POV~

The content they’d worked so hard on, all the technical analyses, the detailed breakdowns, the stuff that would’ve been considered proprietary at any other company, Nolan had dismissed it like it was a high school book report. Even decided to call it worthless. 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝐰𝚎𝕓𝐧𝚘𝘃𝗲𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝕞

"Superficial. You barely scratched the surface."

So for the next two or three days, I and Johnny worked together, tearing apart our original submission and rebuilding it based on Nolan’s feedback.

More depth. More critical analysis. More of everything.

By Monday, my ankle had mostly healed. Still a little tender if I put too much weight on it, but functional. I wasn’t confident enough to drive yet, I didn’t trust my reaction time if I had to slam on the brakes but I could walk without limping.

Good enough to go back to the office.

When I got there, Johnny was waiting at my desk with coffee and news.

"Dante’s serious about the collaboration."

I stopped mid-step. "What?"

"He sent someone over last week. Initial contact, preliminary discussions." Johnny handed me the coffee. "I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to distract you while we were drowning in Nolan’s revisions."

Right. Because nothing said "focus" like finding out your estranged husband’s company wanted to work with yours.

"Someone from his team is coming by this afternoon," Johnny continued. "If it goes well, we can finalize a preliminary plan."

Great.

Just great.

The technical director Dante sent over wasn’t from the Wilson Group, it was from his personal tech company. A guy named Director Quinn. Mid-forties, with a sharp suit, and a confident handshake.

"Hello, Miss Miller," he said when Johnny introduced us.

"Hello."

I said professionally and polite. He had no idea I was married to his boss.

And I wasn’t about to enlighten him.

The afternoon went smoothly. Too smoothly, actually. Director Quinn knew his stuff, asked good questions, seemed genuinely interested in what Cole could bring to the table.

By lunchtime, Johnny suggested we all go grab food and continue the conversation in a more relaxed setting.

"There’s a good place nearby," he said. "My treat."

Director Quinn agreed, and we all piled into cars.

I rode with Johnny. Director Quinn and his team took their own vehicle.

The restaurant was one of those upscale places that catered to business lunches, with private rooms, and expensive menu, the kind of atmosphere that made deals happen.

We pulled into the parking lot and I was halfway out of the car when I saw them.

Well... Dante’s car. That sleek black thing he drove everywhere.

And getting out of it was Dante... and Sienna.

Of course.

Of. course.

I froze.

Johnny noticed immediately. "Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me."

But Director Quinn had already spotted them. His face lit up and he called out, "President Wilson!"

Dante and Sienna turned around.

For a second, nobody moved.

Dante’s expression flickered with surprise, maybe? Or just annoyance at the coincidence.

Sienna’s face did something more complicated. Confusion, I think. Then recognition. Then that smooth, blank mask she always wore when I was around.

Director Quinn was already walking toward them, oblivious to the tension.

"What a coincidence! We were just discussing the collaboration with Cole."

Dante recovered quickly. Smiled and shook Director Quinn’s hand. "Good. I’m glad it’s going well."

Johnny and I exchanged a look.

We couldn’t just stand here. We still had business to discuss. And Dante had already seen us.

So we followed.

I kept my face neutral. Professional. Like running into my husband and his, whatever Sienna was, at a business lunch was perfectly normal.

Director Quinn seemed to know Sienna too. His face brightened when he saw her. "Miss Brown."

"Hello," Sienna replied.

Her tone was cool and distant. But not rude.

Director Quinn didn’t seem bothered. It made sense, Sienna was with Dante, and Dante was his boss. In his mind, she was probably going to be his boss too eventually. Better to stay respectful and keep his distance.

He turned back to Dante, gesturing toward Johnny and me. "I had a meeting with Cole this morning. We’re discussing a potential partnership. Just finished up, so I’m joining President Gray and his team for lunch."

Dante nodded and shook Director Quinn’s hand. "Good. Thank you for your work on this."

"Not a problem at all, President Wilson."

Then Dante’s eyes shifted to Johnny and me.

He acknowledged Johnny with a nod. "President Gray."

But when his gaze landed on me, he said nothing.

Just looked right through me.

Like I wasn’t even there.

My jaw tightened, but I kept my face neutral.

Johnny stepped in smoothly. "Since we’ve all run into each other, why don’t we have lunch together? Continue the discussion?"

For a second, I thought Dante might agree. Thought he might actually be professional enough to sit through one meal.

But then he shook his head.

"No, this is a private arrangement. Not really appropriate." He smiled, politely, although the smile looked distant. "But next time, I’ll definitely take you up on that offer, President Gray."

Private arrangement. Right.

A date. With Sienna.

And he didn’t want it interrupted.

Didn’t want ‘me’ there ruining his romantic lunch.

Johnny’s smile didn’t falter, but I could see the tension in his shoulders. "Of course. You’re too kind, President Wilson."

Sienna had been quiet this whole time, watching the exchange with that carefully blank expression.

She probably wanted to network with Johnny, of course he was a valuable connection, after all. But compared to that, she clearly wanted Dante’s attention more.

And Dante had just made it clear he was prioritizing their "private time."

She looked pleased. Satisfied.

Like she’d won something.

Dante turned without another word, and Sienna followed him toward the restaurant entrance.

Leaving us standing there in the parking lot.

Director Quinn watched them go, then turned back to us with an apologetic smile. "Well. Shall we head in?"

"Yeah," Johnny said. "Let’s go."

We started walking toward the entrance. Director Quinn fell into step beside Johnny, already talking about the collaboration again.

And I walked a few steps behind, trying to keep my face together.

Trying not to think about how Dante had just blown off a business lunch to protect his date with Sienna.

Trying not to care.

Once we were inside and settled at our table, Johnny leaned over and asked Director Quinn casually, "So you know Miss Brown as well?"

"Oh, yes. I’ve met her a few times." Director Quinn smiled. "President Wilson is very attentive to her. He’s brought her to the office several times."

The words hit me like a slap.

Brought her to the office.

Several times.

I’d been married to Dante for years. Years! And I’d never once been to any of his companies. Personally.

Not the Wilson Group. Not his personal tech firm. Nowhere.

Because he didn’t allow it.

"The office isn’t a place for family," he’d said once, early in our marriage, when I’d suggested visiting. "It’s not appropriate."

And I’d believed him. I Thought he was just being professional. Keeping work and personal life separate.

But apparently that rule only applied to me.

Because Sienna got to visit. Got to see his world. Got to be part of his professional life in ways I never had.

Director Quinn was still talking, oblivious to the knife he’d just twisted in my chest.

"President Wilson seems quite serious about her. It’s nice to see."

"Mm," Johnny said noncommittally.

He glanced at me, concern flickering across his face.

I looked down at my menu. Pretended to study it even though the words were blurring together.

He brought her to the office. Several times.

He never let me.

My throat felt tight.

I swallowed hard and forced myself to breathe normally.

This was fine. I was fine.

Just another reminder of where I stood. Another confirmation that I’d never mattered to him the way she did.

The waiter came over and started taking orders.

I picked something at random. Didn’t even know what I’d said.

Johnny was watching me. I could feel it.

But I didn’t look at him. Didn’t acknowledge the concern in his eyes.

Just sat there, menu closed, hands folded in my lap.

Professionally. Composed.

Completely fine.

Even though inside, I was breaking all over again.