The Alpha Behind The Mask-Chapter 103: Talk his way out

Oliver’s POV

​I sat perfectly still, my fork resting against the edge of my plate, watching the color drain from Aurora’s face.

My heart hammered against my ribs, a heavy, panicked rhythm that I refused to let show in my expression. I saw the way she chewed that second bite, the way her brow furrowed in a confusion that was rapidly turning into suspicion.

​I knew she had recognized it. It was a habit, a reflex of my hands that I hadn’t even thought to hide. I had made this for her in that small kitchen when I was just Raymond, the masked Dom.

​My wolf was snarling, pacing a tight circle in the back of my mind. I had been too careless. I had cooked with my heart instead of my head, and now it was betraying me. 𝗳𝗿𝐞𝕖𝘄𝗲𝕓𝗻𝚘𝚟𝕖𝐥.𝚌𝕠𝕞

​"What is it?" I asked, keeping my voice low and steady. "You don’t like it?"

​I reached for my water glass, taking a slow sip to mask the sudden dryness in my throat. I could feel her eyes searching mine, looking for the puzzle to fix. The kitchen, which had felt so warm and intimate just moments ago, now felt tense.

​"Can I ask you something?" she whispered, her voice trembling just enough to make my blood run cold.

​I set the glass down with a fake calmness. I didn’t blink. I didn’t look nervous. I had spent my entire life wearing masks, and I wasn’t about to let this one slip over a plate of pasta. I forced my muscles to relax, leaning forward slightly as if I were nothing more than a curious lover.

​"Of course, Aurora," I said, my tone smooth and reassuring. "You can ask me anything."

​Inside, my mind was already spinning, weaving a story about the personal chef who had served my family for a decade. I would tell her it was a signature dish of the packhouse, something I had grown up eating. I would give her any lie she needed to hear to keep the truth from shattering the fragile peace we had built.

​I watched her take a breath, her lips parting as she prepared to voice the doubt that was screaming in her head.

​"What is on your mind, darling?" I prompted, still acting relaxed.

​I saw the way her hand trembled as she set her fork down.

​"Where did you learn to cook like that?" she asked. Her voice was full of confusion.

​I didn’t flinch. I had spent years training my expression, and I used every ounce of that discipline now. I kept my blue eyes calm, reflecting nothing but mild curiosity, even as my pulse thundered in my ears.

​"It is a simple dish, Aurora," I said, sounding casual. "I have had the same personal chef at the packhouse for over a decade. He taught me the basics when I was younger. Why do you ask?"

​I reached for my water glass, taking a slow sip to ground myself. I could feel her eyes searching mine, looking for the man she had known in the mask.

​"Because it tastes exactly like someone I used to know," she said, her brow furrowing as she stared at the pasta. "Not just similar. Exactly. There is a specific way the garlic is toasted, a specific heat."

​She looked back up at me, and for a second, I saw the raw terror and confusion in her gaze. It nearly broke me. It was a painful pill to swallow, realizing that she actually missed him. She missed Raymond. She missed me, but a version of me that was built on lies. Seeing her this haunted by a ghost I had created made a knot of guilt tighten in my gut. I had really hurt her. I had left her with a memory so vivid she could taste it in a simple plate of pasta, and I couldn’t even reach out to comfort her as the man she truly longed for.

​Come out clean, Oliver, my wolf growled, pacing with a restless, frustrated energy. Tell her. End this. Tell her you are one person.

​I silenced the beast with a mental snarl. I couldn’t. I was scared... scared of losing her.

​In order to kill the suspicion before it took root, I leaned back and tilted my head, my expression shifting into one of mild, protective curiosity.

​"Who was it?" I asked, my voice calm and full of curiosity. "This person...who cooked for you?"

​I watched the way her posture immediately stiffened. The boldness she had shown a second ago vanished, replaced by a visible nervousness. She picked up her fork with trembling fingers and began to eat again, her movements hurried and forced, as if she could bury the question under the food.

​"No one," she said quickly, her eyes fixed firmly on her plate. "No one of importance. Just... someone from before. It was a long time ago."

​She was obviously scared. She was terrified that I, the Alpha King, would find out about her past with a masked man from the BDSM club. She didn’t realize that the "jealous King" she was trying to appease was the very man she was trying to hide.

​I reached across the table, not to take the plate away, but to gently brush a stray lock of hair behind her ear. She flinched slightly at the touch before relaxing into it, her gaze still carefully averted.

​"Aurora," I murmured softly. "You do not have to be afraid of your past with me. Whatever happened before you came into my life... stays there. I only care about the woman sitting in front of me now."

​I watched her swallow hard, a small flicker of relief crossing her face, though the tension didn’t fully leave her shoulders.

​I watched her take another few bites, the tension in her small frame slowly beginning to uncoil. I had successfully steered her away from the edge of the truth, but the air in the kitchen still felt awkward.

​"Eat, Aurora," I said gently. "I have something to show you once you are finished. Something I’ve never shared with anyone else.