Status Quo

Chapter Eight

[Picture of Caleb above]

Caleb's POV

I'd expected a fight, an argument, a disagreement, something, yet there was nothing of the sort. Instead the Alpha only nodded his head and called his driver. Rather than being cramped in one of his many cars in a cargo plane like I was the first time, we instead pulled up on the runway of the airport and I was then guided to his private jet. Of course he has to have a private jet.

Luxurious isn't even the best word to describe it. It's prestigious in every way possible, and yet, something tells me there are others out there far more extravagant than this. The thought knocks me sick to the stomach. The interior is warm, soft oranges and browns that all compliment each other offering a welcoming ambiance, but in these moments, it only makes me feel colder.

I could be grateful for the two separating rooms, a conference or dining room on one side and the other a lounge with a sofa and television. Despite the separation, the glass didn't aid my desire to feel hidden from the Alphas gaze; at least the TV could offer a distraction, it's sounds could attempt to drown out my racing thoughts. His men all huddled around the conference table, their chatting humming through the glass as they spoke business and ventures, discussions that may have peaked my interest if my mind hadn't have been overloaded with such a bitter sadness.