Zara

My head was spinning, and my heart sank as I silently watched the proceedings. Then the spotlights illuminated the main entrance, and a deathly silence reigned.

Alpha Kane strode proudly onto the ramp, and my heart pounded with delight at the sight of his broad frame in a stylish and refined outfit, radiating elegance and a modern gentlemanly air.

I couldn’t take my eyes off him as he strode confidently, his right hand in his pocket and his left hand hanging loosely at his side.

His suit consisted of a two-tone trench coat in burgundy and black: burgundy on the inside lapels and some panels, while black dominated the outer lining. It was tailored in such a way that it added a touch of drama to the look.

Underneath, he wore a perfectly tailored burgundy double-breasted blazer, giving him a polished appearance. Not that he needed it, but it certainly completed his look.

Underneath, he wore an elegant black shirt, buttoned to the chest, giving him a slightly daring and confident air.

Slim-fitting black trousers gave his legs a full, defined look.

The wristwatch I’d given him peeked out from under his coat, demonstrating attention to detail and sophistication, reminding him that he preferred my gift.

The black loafers completed his bold, sophisticated, and fashionable look.

But I was puzzled by the choice of color in combination with the black.

Burgundy, like my hair.

Was it intentional or just a coincidence?

And then his gaze darted feverishly to me, and I held my breath as he caught my gaze, and only mine.

***

Alpha Kane

She was sitting alone when I walked out onto the platform, and our eyes met. My heart sank because no one dared sit next to her.

Zara was friendly; she was easy to talk to and had a special gift for making people feel at ease.

So I could only assume she was sitting alone because of Amanda.

Everyone wanted to stay in her good graces just because I’d made her a star for two years running; everyone assumed we were sleeping together.

She earned her position through her work, not because we’d ever slept together.

I didn’t sleep with my employees, and I never had until Zara came along. This girl had made me break all my rules, and now she’d wormed her way into the very depths of my mind, a place I couldn’t shake no matter how hard I tried.

I couldn’t take my eyes off her as I walked down the runway.

A knowing smile played on her lips, as if she understood why my suit was that particular color, mixed with black.

"Sir, change your focus, pay attention to everyone. Try to smile," Halima, my events manager, commanded me from my side, carefully studying my attention, which was focused solely on Zara.

Zara chuckled, and I had to look away as I reached the end of the ramp and jumped off.

Halima rushed toward me, waving her tablet. Her chestnut hair was pulled back into a bun so tight it almost seemed painful. She began to explain.

"We’ll need a lot of rehearsals; you just need to work on your focus; your walk was perfect."

Zara stood up and walked toward me.

"Of course, but now I want to see everyone else’s walk. We need to choose a star so we can continue," I informed her, causing her to push her glasses up her nose and hurry with all seriousness.

She snapped her fingers and led the models backstage.

"Such a burgundy, huh? When did that become your color?" Zara teased, making me pay attention to her.

She looked at me with a slight hunger in her eyes, but most importantly, she couldn’t take her eyes off my outfit.

"This winter, it will be everyone’s color." I had already chosen a name for our event and planned to announce it in the coming days.

Her smile widened, lifting the tension in my heart a bit, like the morning sun dissolving yesterday’s frost. Her smile illuminated the world around me, making it brighter.

"I’d love that. Men don’t have to wear only gray, blue, and black. Red should be universal," she replied, crossing her arms with mine and moving closer so I could inhale a generous dose of her fruity scent.

The male models, having changed, began to take their seats to represent the audience, and many eyes were fixed on us.

"You’re right."

"And you were magnificent on the runway, like a professional model, my ruthless Alpha," she replied, as I stared at her, and only her.

"I’ll take your word for it. Come, let’s sit and watch. I’d love to hear your opinion on how we can improve this."

We sat next to each other in the front row. Taking her hand, I placed it on mine.

The thought of that bastard who had dared to hurt her popped into my head, and I instinctively squeezed her hand lightly.

"What happened?" she asked, watching me closely. She was beginning to understand my body language.

"Never mind, let’s see."

Soon, models began walking down the runway. Some of the suits were made from Swanzi Land cotton, especially the one Zara’s dad sent us.

I decided to tease her a little.

"Thanks to your father, we have dresses made from Swanzi Land cotton."

She looked straight ahead, but turned her head in my direction.

"Did you know?" she asked, trying to hide an embarrassed smile, biting her lower lip.

I leaned my head toward her ear and whispered,

"I put two and two together after you revealed your identity. That was very smart of you. I owe you both a lot. Neither of these costumes would have been ready in time if your father hadn’t come to our aid."

Zara beamed at my words, but I wasn’t expecting her next words.

I had to suppress a smile as I looked at her. I reacted to her mischievous actions, but I wasn’t going to back down. "What if I told your father I’m your mate?"

She snorted.

"Be prepared to be asked a million questions, judged even for the way you breathe, and have Dad look you over from head to toe. Good luck." She extended her free hand and sympathetically stroked my head.

Then she whispered,

"That’s scary... my dad could be a nightmare for men trying to woo his daughter."

I wasn’t going to back down.

"I bet I can charm him. Invite them to the Winter Gala."

***