This shouldn’t have come as a surprise, Owen castigated himself as he slid into the leather car seat. He’d made the decision. They might not spend much time together at work, but he’d felt a deep glow of satisfaction when Gregory had reported Braith’s impressed reaction to the apartment. The chandelier had been a good choice.

Just one wall separated their bedrooms, and he was sure he’d slept better in the past week than he’d ever done in the Upper Realms before. He knew they’d bump into each other eventually.

His heart had just about ricocheted out of his chest when he’d seen Braith in the hallway. His pale skin was flushed from exertion. The sleeveless shirt showed off the smooth swell of his biceps, and a fine cord of muscle ran down each forearm. It was all Owen could do to grind out a half-coherent greeting.  

It wasn’t the way he’d planned to reveal their living arrangements, but at the same time he wouldn’t have exchanged that moment for anything.

Still, it might need some explaining.  

At his desk he sat staring at his steepled fingers. Gregory brought in a stack of documents for the board meeting. Chloe would be there, watching for any slip-ups. He couldn’t afford to be mooning over Braith.

“The board may ask about your life-token.” Gregory said tactfully. This wasn't unusual, the Tenebralian court was nigh obsessed with the eligibility of the Prince's only son. 

“I’ll bear that in mind.” Owen wasn’t intending to tell them anything, certainly not before he'd informed his parents. Which he would do soon, he told himself. After this morning, he was completely sure that he'd made the right choice.

A small voice in his head reminded him that it might not be the same for Braith. 

He cleared his throat. “Ahem. Have we got the invitations to this year's Chamber of Commerce gala dinner?”

Surprise flashed across Gregory’s handsome face. Owen normally avoided social events up here, especially ones that attracted photographers.

“I’ll check with Chloe’s people.”

Tenecore’s board was stacked with a coterie of high-ranking demonic families. The senior courtiers tended to avoid the Upper Realms, so it was mostly their youngish heirs. 

They gathered once a month, but weren’t interested in the human world beyond it’s asset potential. This was a weakness Owen was only too happy to exploit. 

“I’ve heard of this Thunderclap place. Don’t we normally just buy the opal from humans? Why do we need to go down and get it ourselves?” A young demon sneered. He still had the whiff of brimstone about him. Easy to deal with.

“The humans are indeed experts in mining. But this deposit has the potential to yield larger specimens, and we’d like to oversee extraction ourselves.”

“Your own self, you mean.” Chloe had been silent for most of the meeting, letting her minions do the talking. But now, she purred.

“As the CEO, I’m ultimately responsible for operations.” Owen batted back.

“Sounds like something the Strategic Ventures group should be involved in.”

Owen had long since trained himself not to roll his eyes in situations like this one. Tenecore existed for one reason. There was no real ‘Strategic Ventures’ group, any more than there was a ‘Customer Relations’ hotline.

They were just boxes on the organizational chart, run by some useless humans who were delighted to be well paid for doing absolutely nothing.

In other words, most of Tenecore was a front. Chloe’s real purpose was to watch Owen. And he had no intention of letting her see the inside of that mine.

Gregory cut in smoothly, sensitive to his boss’s frustration. “That’s an excellent suggestion. Perhaps a desktop analysis would be helpful, my Lord?”

A general murmur went around the table. It sounded vaguely agreeable.

Chloe snorted, but sat back. She might be gaining supporters, but Owen still had the Prince’s backing. Without the Dark Palace in her corner, there was little she could do.

The rest of the meeting proceeded smoothly, but Owen couldn’t keep the crease from between his brows. Should he explain things Braith, or just leave things be? The more he thought about it, the less happy Braith had seemed to see him this morning. Sure, he’d been surprised, but there had been something else in his face too. He'd looked almost… suspicious?

Owen didn’t do self-doubt. It would be a fatal flaw in any member of the Varanor family. A small heavy spot sat over his heart, though. His consort, the chosen spouse of the next Prince of Tenebralis, didn’t even know that the dark realm existed. Now he’d gotten so deep in the deception, it was going to be mighty hard to wriggle out of with his betrothal intact.

“My lord,” Gregory cut through his thoughts. The board members had already left, and Owen sat moodily staring out the plate glass windows, “about the Gala dinner. How many seats would you like to reserve?”

“Two.”

“Are you sure? Don’t you think Chloe might catch on if its just the two of y—”

“Fine. Organise a table.” Owen pinched his brows between thumb and forefinger.

“Will do.” Gregory flashed an excited grin.

Owen snarled back, but his heart wasn’t in it.