After Six Years The Alpha Begs For My Return Chapter 19
I’d asked him why he was helping me.
He stood in the doorway, an unlit cigarette between his lips, and thought for a moment.
“You took a hit for me once. I remember.”
I hadn’t taken a bullet for him.
All I’d done was uncover three years of falsified accounts planted by the financial director, helping Tidewatch preserve a territorial contract tied to winter supply distribution.
To him, losing that contract would have cost the entire Paris branch its credibility. To me, it had just been a month of relentless overtime.
But Reese Beaumont was not a man who liked to owe anyone.
That business card he’d given me in the restaurant was less a job offer than an excuse to grant me legal territorial status.
But over the next six years, the help he gave me added up, until even he probably no longer knew if he was repaying an old debt—or something else entirely.
The sound of a hospital room door opening came from down the corridor.
I turned my head.
Gideon stepped out. At some point, the shoulders of his suit had gone askew, his tie hanging loose. The Alpha aura he usually held in such tight control was fractured, and he looked like a man who had suddenly lost his footing.
When he saw me, his steps faltered. Then he walked straight toward me.