Chapter 0024

I pulled my shoulders back and lifted my chin defiantly. “I wasn’t aware that I needed your permission to do interviews,” I said.

“You know how I feel about the media,” Noah replied through gritted teeth.

“Why don’t you enlighten me once again?”

Noah breathed in deeply, trying to remain calm. “For the Alpha family, maintaining distance from the media, especially tabloids, is the best approach. They’re nothing but boring gossip mills.”

I stood up, trying to appear bigger and braver than I felt. “Those ‘boring gossip mills’ are what the people really care about,” I countered. “That’s where they get their impressions of us, and that’s where they’ll look to see what kind of Alphas we are. Why else would they be covering every event we attend?”

Noah opened his mouth to protest but snapped it shut. He had no good retort. “Besides,” I continued, “it’s not my fault I was attacked by supporters of you and Zoe.”

Noah’s brow furrowed. “Well, it wasn’t my fault, either.”

“I didn’t anticipate how much trouble Zoe’s return would cause, and you didn’t provide enough security,” I argued. “You brought the trouble; I resolved it.”

“How did you resolve it?” Noah asked, aghast. “All you did was make our problems public—”

“Not our problems, Noah. My problems. And by doing so, I got people to see things from my perspective and sympathize with me.”

I placed my hands on my hips, feeling emboldened. “I don’t know about you, but I’d call that resolving the problem—part of it, at least.”

Noah looked about to explode. His face reddened; he raised a finger, his mouth opening wide. Then, changing his mind, he lowered his hand, the color slowly draining from his face.

“What do you want?” he asked. “What will make this right?”

I paused. If Noah was willing to compromise, I could get something to make the next month easier. “I want to live in our most heavily guarded house and have more bodyguards,” I said firmly, “to protect me from the Noah/Zoe zealots.”

Noah pursed his lips, his eyes moving rapidly as he calculated.

“Deal.”

My instinct was to shake hands, but I kept my hands on my hips to maintain control.

“Thank you,” I said, my voice emotionless. “Anything else?”

“Yes,” Noah replied. “The Lunar Festival is approaching. I was hoping you could spend it with Zoe and her son, hosting a family banquet.”

Every muscle tightened. The thought of being around Zoe and food sent ice through my veins. The last time, it hadn’t gone well.

In my previous life, Noah had invited Zoe and her son. He’d asked me to cook, but my eating disorder prevented it. That was my first mistake. My second was letting Zoe cook; she was a natural and brought a warmth I never could. Noah applauded her cooking, and Zoe called it a basic maternal skill. My third mistake was letting that comment wound me, making me think Noah hadn't seen me as a nurturer or mother. I didn’t know I was pregnant then, and his unspoken criticism cut me deeply. Then I tried to eat Zoe’s food—my final mistake. Between stress and my eating disorder, I couldn’t handle a single bite and threw up. Zoe cried, and Noah reprimanded me for humiliating her before leaving with her son. That was the last time they visited.

I pulled myself away from that memory. I had to focus on my goal. If playing nice with Zoe was necessary, I’d do it. “Of course,” I said with a forced smile. “Anything for the Lunar Festival.”

Noah eyed me, unsure of my cooperation, but nodded. “Good. Thank you.”

He picked up his messenger bag. “I have to go, but I’ll be in touch with the details. Remember to contact me before taking any more interviews.”

We’ll see about that, I thought.

Noah stared, waiting for confirmation. Getting none, he sighed and left.

The door closed, and I ran my hand through my hair, pacing. I had no idea how to handle the banquet. My vomiting had worsened since that night, and my appetite hadn’t improved.

I thought of the night at the bar, sharing nachos with Viona. I’d forced myself to eat, only for my baby’s sake.

I stopped pacing. My baby. I needed nutrients for both of us.

My hand fell to my stomach. I rubbed it gently, conveying my love and nurturing. I had to try harder. For my baby.

If I was going to host that banquet and overcome my problems, I needed help. I sighed and picked up my phone.

“Hello?” Viona answered.

“Hey, it’s me,” I said.

“Hannah! You don’t sound good. Is everything okay?”

“Yes and no.”

Viona’s voice grew concerned. “Is there anything I can do?”

“You know how you took those online cooking classes last year?”

“Yeah?”

“I was hoping you could refer me to them and…”

“And what else?”

Heat flushed my cheeks. I wasn’t sure why this was embarrassing, but it was. I supposed I didn’t want even my closest friends to know my secret—my worst-kept secret.

“And can you help me learn to cook food I’ll actually want to eat?”

There was a long pause. “Of course, Hannah. You know I always have your back.”