The restaurant wasn't far from where he was, just a thirty-minute walk at most, and Alex welcomed the distance. The morning had left him emotionally frayed, and he needed the air, the sun, the simple rhythm of footsteps to ground himself.
By the time he reached the modest, ivy-wrapped bistro nestled on the corner of the street, he could almost pretend his world wasn't unraveling. Almost.
"Alex!" Leo stood from the table as soon as he spotted him, waving with a bright, open smile that lit up his entire face. The guy had a warm, almost boyish charm, a welcome contrast to the intensity Alex had been surrounded by lately.
Alex gave a faint smile, enough to be polite. "Hey, Leo."
Leo pulled out the chair for him. "You look better than the last time I saw you," he said, his eyes quickly scanning Alex's face, searching for any sign of distress.
"Do I?" Alex chuckled dryly as he sat down. "That's good to hear."
He didn't bother mentioning that he'd spent the earlier part of the day crying his eyes out, curled up in bed and in a state of panic. There were some truths best left unspoken over lunch.
"So," Leo sat down, flipping the menu toward Alex, "you hungry? The steak here is phenomenal. Or… would you rather dive into the stuff I found on Sandbrook first?"
Alex glanced at the menu. The sight of food made his stomach churn for a second before instinct kicked in—he hadn't eaten since the previous evening. That wasn't a luxury he could afford anymore. He had someone else to think about now.
"Let's eat first," Alex said, placing the menu down. "I'm starving."
"Excellent." Leo flagged down the waiter with ease. They both ordered the same: steak, medium rare, with a side salad. Leo went for a glass of red wine. When he offered the same to Alex, he politely declined.
"Cranberry juice for me. I… don't drink much," Alex said quickly.
"Fair enough." Leo leaned back, watching him with a curious expression. "Eric told me you've been hard to reach lately. Said he hadn't seen you in ages and that you mostly text. I wasn't sure if you were actually going to show up."
"Yeah, I've been... caught up with a lot of things," Alex replied, voice deliberately vague. "But I had time today."
"Well, lucky me then," Leo grinned. "I get to have lunch with the elusive Alex Masterson."
They made small talk while they waited—music, movies, books... Leo had a way of making a conversation feel effortless, breezy even, despite the undercurrents of tension flowing just beneath Alex's calm exterior.
Their steaks arrived hot and sizzling, rich aromas wafting between them. For a few moments, they ate in relative silence, the kind that wasn't uncomfortable. But once their plates were half-empty and the edge of hunger had dulled, Leo wiped his mouth and reached for his satchel.
"Alright," he said, pulling out a slim tablet and unlocking it. "I wish I had more for you, but Sandbrook's like a damn ghost."
He handed the tablet to Alex. On the screen, a document loaded with data, redacted files, screenshots, and a timeline. Alex scrolled through slowly.
"There's almost nothing on him before age thirteen. He was adopted around then. Before that? No trace. Personally, I think he had his records scrubbed."
"Perhaps he is trying to hide something," Alex murmured, his thumb pausing on a blurry photo of Damien as a teenager.
Leo nodded. "Most likely. Either way, his true rise and influence started about four years ago. That's when he began targeting the Masterson empire. Quietly at first. Buying up shares under shell companies, influencing board members, setting up false investment opportunities for your father..."
Alex felt a cold pit settle in his stomach. "He planned this for four years?"
"Longer, probably," Leo said. "But that's when the first real moves started showing. And he's not just anyone, Alex. He's respected, feared even. The kind of guy who makes people say yes before they even hear the question."
Alex stared at the screen. It felt surreal, knowing Damien had been weaving this web for so long, with such precision. His fingers tightened slightly around the tablet.
Leo hesitated for a second before mentioning an even more sensitive issue. "There's more. I didn't mean to pry, but I stumbled across files Damien has been collecting. On your family. He's got enough on your brother and sister to bury them."
Alex slowly scrolled down. The screen filled with evidence—documents, footage, testimonies. His brother's violent offenses against omegas. His sister's use of illegal pheromone enhancers, the disappearance of some of her partners. It was damning. Disgusting.
His breath hitched. "God... I knew they were awful, but this..."
"I'm sorry," Leo said softly.
Alex shook his head. "They deserve whatever's coming to them. Every bit of it."
"There's also—" Leo's voice faltered a bit, "something about your mother. I wasn't sure if I should even show you."
But Alex was already swiping through the next set of images. Photos of men. Dozens. All attractive, powerful-looking alphas. Some in suits, some shirtless…. One photo stopped him cold.
Amber eyes.
He had seen that face before. Years ago. He didn't know the name, but it was etched into his memory like a scar. He studied the name below the picture and stored it away.
"I knew she wasn't faithful," Alex muttered. "But this is... excessive."
"You okay?" Leo asked, reaching across the table.
"Yeah. Just... numb. I don't care about her anymore. Or them. My entire family could rot for all I care."
He was done with them. Completely, irreversibly done. The very thought of his family—the Mastersons—filled him with a bitter taste that curled in his mouth like bile. He was sick of pretending, of making excuses, of carrying their name like some cursed inheritance. His parents? Manipulative and selfish. His siblings? Monsters hiding behind manicured smiles and gilded reputations. And whatever sins they had committed against Damien—whatever cruelty, betrayal, or deceit they had inflicted—Alex no longer cared. Let them be dragged into the abyss Damien had been carefully crafting for them. Let them burn. They deserved it.
But he didn't.
He was just another victim of those monsters, born into the wrong house, the wrong bloodline, wearing a name that had become synonymous with rot. And yet Damien... Damien seemed unable—or unwilling—to separate Alex from the rest. To Damien, he was just another Masterson, and in his eyes, that was enough. Enough to punish. Enough to use. Enough to destroy.
It was a cruel and narrow way to see the world.
Did Damien truly believe that blood alone dictated guilt? That Alex's DNA, his surname, damned him by default?
And then a darker thought surfaced, uninvited and ice-cold: What if Damien extended that same twisted logic to their child?
Alex's heart stuttered in his chest.
The baby. Their baby.
What if Damien decided that the child, too—an innocent not yet born—needed to atone for the Mastersons' sins? What if he looked into their child's eyes and saw nothing but echoes of a bloodline he wanted to erase? Alex couldn't stomach the idea. Couldn't imagine letting his child be raised in a house haunted by vengeance, by cold silence and controlled affection. That was no life.
He'd been there—trapped in a place where pain was served with a smile. He remembered too well the sting of his father's words and violence, the bruises that never made it to the surface, the constant walking-on-eggshells that came with growing up in the Masterson household. He remembered feeling like a burden, a blemish, something to be hidden rather than cherished. That was not going to be his child's fate.
No. He wouldn't allow history to repeat itself.
He couldn't let Damien become the kind of father his father had been—detached, punishing, emotionally sadistic. And he certainly couldn't allow his child to carry the Masterson name like a chain around their neck. That name wasn't a legacy—it was a warning. A red flag in the shape of a surname.
His child would be born free of that.
Free of the Mastersons.
Free of Damien.
Free of all of it.
Alex would find a way—no matter what it took. Even if it meant severing every last tie to his past. Even if it meant walking away from the bond he shared with Damien. Even if it meant doing it alone.
Because his child didn't ask to be a pawn in anyone's revenge. And Alex would move heaven and earth to make sure they never became one.
Alex turned his gaze to Leo and said, "Thank you for all of this. I mean it. How much do I owe you for your time?"
Leo looked scandalized. "Owe me? Alex, I wasn't doing this for money. I was helping a friend."
"Still," Alex started.
Leo raised a hand. "Okay, if you really insist... How about dinner? A few times. My treat the first, yours the second."
Alex blinked. "Leo... I can agree to dinner, but I need to be clear. I'm not looking to date. I'm not ready for... anything like that."
"Oh god, no!" Leo laughed, hands flying up. "No, no, no! I didn't mean it like that. I just meant... I don't have many people I connect with. I travel a lot. Work keeps me moving. And... it gets lonely, you know? Not in a romantic way. Just... human contact. Someone to talk to."
Alex understood that far too well.
"Okay," he said softly. "Dinner it is, then. Just say when."
Leo smiled like a kid who'd just won a prize. "Awesome. Really. I'm glad we did this."
Alex stood. "I should head back."
They exchanged a brief hug, warm but platonic. Alex tried not to be too awkward about it since he wasn't used to hugging people that much.
"Take care," Leo said.
"You too."
Alex stepped out into the street and called for a cab. His mind was buzzing with everything he'd just learned. When he reached the estate and walked toward his bedroom door, he froze.
Damien was there.
Leaning casually against the frame, arms folded.
"Just fucking great..." Alex cursed inwardly.