“Cyn! Sweets, how are you? I’ve been meaning to touch base about the ball but—”
“George, who was the alpha that attacked me all those years ago? The one you—”
“I know who you mean. Bloody hell, I couldn’t exactly forget, could I? You’ve never asked me about that night, not once. Not during your recovery, not when you were forced to attend the balls. Never.”
“And I need you to tell me now,” I replied, but secretly, I knew.
“Darling, this doesn’t change anything. That was a long time ago and—”
“Just tell me.”
I heard his sigh, catching the nervous tremor of it, like he feared even saying his name.
“Benson, sweets. It was Benson Ratcliffe.”
Chapter 35
Orion was right—the guys did look stunning in formal wear. Pants off the rack, which managed to look tailored on both of them, skimmed over powerful thighs and perfectly formed arses, held up with leather belts, topped by crisp shirts in shades of grey that managed to make Rhys’ eyes glow and warm Brendan’s colouring further. They caught me checking them out as we got out of the car, trading smug looks before they each took an arm and escorted me into the restaurant.
It was beautiful inside, someone having been paid a lot by the owners to place a mural of elegant women on the walls, each wearing full sleeve tattoos. The lighting was low, the carpet a warm grey that swallowed our steps as we walked in. A woman in a high-necked black blouse saw us approach and smiled.
“Mr Ratcliffe’s party? He instructed me to keep an eye out for you. You’re in one of the private dining rooms at the back. Mr Ratcliffe has already ordered drinks for you, but if you wish for something else, please let me know.”
We walked down the length of the dining room, betas and omegas alike casting their eyes over my alphas as we went. My grip on the boys tightened, making them chuckle.
“Well, Rhys, you look a helluva lot better than when I carried you upstairs the other day.”
Orion wasn’t in the room alone, which was perhaps why he’d gone for private. She sat at his end of the table, young, like really young, eyes downcast. He smiled while the maître d’ seated us, asking if we wanted anything else to drink before waving her away. I ignored the G&T waiting for me and poured a glass of water, offering the same to the guys. Rhys shook his head, twisted the top of his Corona off, and then shoved the lime in before taking a swig.
When the door clicked shut and we were left alone, Orion said, “I’d like to introduce you to—”
“What the fuck, Orion?” Rhys snapped.
There was a whole lot in that. Why the subterfuge, and why the lies? Why the restaurant, why not be straight with us, what was his dad’s deal, and most of all, what the hell was the girl doing here, sitting so close to him? I flared my nose, confirming what we all knew—she was an omega.
“This is Ariadne, my sister.”
So she was a stranger to me, but to the guys? I frowned, taking in each man’s expression. They hadn’t changed, the same wary, barely simmering anger sitting there.
“You don’t have a sister, O.” Brendan bit off the words as he sat back, pulling my hand into his lap to stroke the back of it conspicuously. “There’s just you.”
“My mother has one child.” Orion’s arm went to the back of the girl’s chair. “My father has more. Not recognised, not allowed all the privileges of the name, but…”
He looked up, his gaze moving from one mate to the next before meeting my eyes. So we’d see it, I was willing to bet. The same unusual colouring, green eyes, dark hair, skin on her that looked like porcelain, it was easy to see the resemblance, but a part of me that had become way too suspicious wondered if that was deliberate.
“I took the liberty of ordering a tasting menu. There’ll be samples of almost everything for us to enjoy.”
As if summoned, in came several waiters and a trolley full of food.
There ain’t no silence like the interrupted uncomfortable conversation silence. We were all perfectly quiet, sitting stiffly in our seats, as the many dishes were put before us. It smelled and looked amazing, which felt weird. The staff seemed to sense this, shooting us polite smiles before scurrying out the door.
“It looks great, Orion,” I said, tilting my head at the table, “but I’d rather a whole lot of answers and a kebab from a food van on the way home, if it’s all the same.”
“That’s my girl,” Bren said in a low tone.
“What the fuck is going on? I’ve been led around by the nose from one story to the next, and apparently, yours is next, so spill,” I snapped.
“Not my story,” he replied, staring back at me, that very specific kind of white upper-class pain on his face. It wasn’t real obvious, just there in the slight tightness around his mouth, his eyes. “Ari’s.”