They ate together, sitting side-by-side at the vast kitchen island as the rising sun began to paint the sky in hues of gold and rose. It was their first meal that felt like a conversation, however strained. The silence was no longer hostile; it was thick with the shared knowledge of the nightmare, the secret breakfasts, and the charged proximity.

Haven ate with her usual clean efficiency. "Did the books arrive satisfactorily?"

"They did," Althea confirmed, pushing a piece of mango around her plate. "Thank you. Now I know I'm not just musically illiterate, but botanically challenged too. Just adding to the long list of my Omega deficiencies."

Haven looked at her then, a genuine, unguarded flicker of something that looked like concern in her stormy eyes. "You were not a failure, Althea. You were… exceptional."

"In writing songs about emotional domination? Maybe. In being a decent person? TBD." Althea shook her head, the nightmare's fear still clinging to her. "To be discussed."

After a few more minutes of tense quiet, Haven pushed her empty plate away. "I need to prepare for the office. I have an early presentation for the Hartwell Entertainment board."

"Wait," Althea said, stopping her before she could escape to the shower. "The library trip. I'm going today. And I don't need a security detail, Haven. That's overkill. I just want Mrs. Li to walk me and act as a chaperone. That's all. I plan to go today. Please."

Haven stared at a point on the far wall, her mind clearly racing through risk assessments and contingency plans. Althea could see the internal war: corporate safety protocols versus the volatile, unpredictable Dominant Omega who now held the "Secret Chef" card.

"Fine," Haven finally conceded, rubbing her temples as if warding off a migraine. "I will contact her agency and adjust the security clearance. No additional guards. Mrs. Li will accompany you. You will return before dusk."

She took a single step closer, leaning in slightly. Her voice dropped to a low, Alpha warning that vibrated in the space between them. "Do not misuse this privilege, Althea. And do not mention the pinboard. Or the breakfast. To anyone."

And then she was gone, the kitchen door swinging shut behind her, leaving Althea alone with the remnants of their meal and the lingering scent of grape old wine.

Althea let out a long, shaky breath, the tension draining from her shoulders. She leaned her elbow on the cool stone counter and gently patted Sushi, who had wandered in to clean up any potential crumbs.

"Sushi," Althea confided, her gaze still fixed on the spot where Haven had stood, slicing fruit with a warrior's focus. "Your other owner is kinda... devastatingly hot. My God. I am in so much trouble."

Sushi simply wagged his tail, a silent, happy conspirator in the beautiful, chaotic mess that was their life.

The Plant and Book Club Social

Later that afternoon, Althea felt a thrill of genuine excitement as she prepared for her outing. After securing Haven's grudging permission for the library trip, Althea pushed further, demanding that they walk instead of drive.

"The fresh air, Haven," Althea had argued over a secure text message, channeling Ms. Evelyn's language. "It's vital for my neural healing and muscle memory retention. Sitting in a car is counterproductive."

Haven had responded with a single, furious text: Fine. Mrs. Li will walk 10 paces behind you. Do not deviate from the main road. The Alpha scent of irritation had practically radiated through the glass screen.

The crisp, cool air of the Northwood Estates felt like a revelation after weeks of sterile mansion air. Althea, walking confidently in comfortable athleisure wear, felt the satisfying burn in her legs with every step. Mrs. Li, impeccably dressed in a simple, elegant suit, maintained a silent, watchful distance, an unobtrusive bodyguard.

Althea pushed herself, walking nearly a mile down the winding road until they reached the low, ornate, but publicly accessible gate that marked the edge of the estate. Just beyond lay the main community hub.

"This is it, Mrs. Li," Althea announced, a thrill of genuine excitement coursing through her. "The lair of suburban secrets and botanical wisdom. Prepare for… human interaction."

Mrs. Li offered a small, polite nod, maintaining her post.

Althea pushed open the double doors of the Northwood Community Center. The sound of gentle chatter, the rustle of paper, and the earthy, slightly damp scent of potting soil immediately enveloped her. It was a brightly lit room, filled with long tables covered in various plant specimens: delicate succulents in tiny pots, flourishing African violets, and a rather dramatic carnivorous plant display. A dozen or so women, ranging from lively grandmothers to earnest younger hobbyists, were gathered around, chatting.

As Althea stepped fully into the room, a hush fell. Conversation died. Heads turned. A collective gasp rippled through the room. It was the same reaction she got on red carpets, but here, it was infused with an element of startled, delighted disbelief.

"Hello," Althea said, her professional Omega smile automatically snapping into place. "I'm Althea Vale. I'm new to the area, and I was hoping to join your plant and book club."

A petite woman with bright, curious eyes and a shock of silver hair, clearly the matriarch of the group, broke the silence. "Oh my stars! It really is you! Welcome, welcome! We're so delighted to have you! I'm Martha, the club president." She bustled forward, her hand outstretched.

As Althea shook her hand, another woman, a bubbly Beta with a name tag that read 'Brenda,' exclaimed, "Oh my goodness! So you're that Althea Vale, the popstar! And the wife of Haven Hartwell! We've read so much about you!"

A chorus of excited whispers erupted. "Oh, the Hartwell marriage! It's just like a fairytale!" "And the way she vanished for a bit and now she's back! So mysterious!" "Haven Hartwell is just devastating in person, isn't she? So strong! So elegant! We always hoped you two would come out to the community events!"

(Internal Monologue) Fairytale? Oh, you sweet, naive suburban angels. If you only knew the 'fairytale' involves corporate contracts, amnesia, and a Secret Chef who nearly short-circuits at the touch of a hand. You guys have no idea.

Althea managed a graceful laugh, keeping her internal thoughts carefully shielded. "Well, I'm certainly back now! And I'm trying to reconnect with… my hobbies. My wife has been very supportive, even ordering me some rather intimidating plant books." She glanced pointedly at Mrs. Li, who stood by the entrance, observing the scene with her usual Sphinx-like stillness. "Mrs. Li here has been instrumental in my recovery journey too."

This was Althea's subtle nudge to integrate Mrs. Li, who had been an unwavering presence in her isolated world. Martha immediately turned to Mrs. Li. "Oh, welcome, welcome! Would you like a cup of tea, dear? We have chamomile and Earl Grey."

Mrs. Li's eyes widened slightly, a tiny but discernible crack in her professional armor. "Thank you, ma'am. Chamomile would be lovely."

As the grandmothers fussed over Mrs. Li, Althea found herself surrounded. The women were genuinely thrilled, not star-struck in a demanding way, but warm and eager to share.

"You're a plant enthusiast, too?" asked a woman named Carol, holding up a delicate fern. "This is a Maidenhair fern. Very particular about humidity."

"Oh, yes," Althea said, trying to recall snippets from her intensive greenhouse study. "I believe they require a very consistent moisture level. And filtered light, yes?"

"Precisely!" Carol beamed. "You're a natural! What kind of plants do you specialize in?"

"Well," Althea paused, remembering Haven's elaborate greenhouse. "I've been learning about carnivorous plants. And rare mosses. And succulents."

This elicited another round of delighted gasps. "Oh, how exotic! We usually stick to less demanding varieties here. But you must have such an incredible collection, being married to Mrs. Hartwell! She's so private, we never get to hear about her hobbies!"

(Internal Monologue) Her hobbies? You mean her secret life as my personal gourmet breakfast chef and the woman who turns beet red when I touch her hand? Trust me, ladies, the tabloids are missing the real scoops.

For the next hour, Althea was enveloped in a whirlwind of wholesome, plant-based gossip and instruction. Martha showed her how to properly re-pot a struggling peace lily, gently guiding Althea's hands. Brenda enthusiastically lectured her on the finer points of homemade compost, and another woman, Eleanor, shared intricate tips for cultivating orchids.

"You know, your wife, Mrs. Hartwell, she's such an inspiration," Eleanor sighed dreamily, looking at a picture of a flourishing rose bush on the wall. "To be so brilliant in business and so utterly devoted to her family. It's just so beautiful."

"Yes," another chimed in. "And the way she carried you out of the hospital, Althea, we saw the pictures! Such a strong Alpha! So protective! We just love a powerful Alpha who knows how to be gentle at home."

(Internal Monologue) Gentle? Sure. Unless you're a spreadsheet that needs to be crushed, or a mango that needs to be perfectly dissected. But yes, 'gentle' when I'm sobbing uncontrollably about my dead family at 1 AM. They don't know the half of it. They don't know she smells like danger and secrets beneath the wine.

Althea smiled, nodding along, her inner monologue a cacophony of amusement and poignant irony. She felt a strange, detached fondness for these women, whose innocent romanticizations of her life were so far from the complicated truth.

Mrs. Li, surprisingly, had slowly integrated into the group, quietly sipping her chamomile, and occasionally offering a precise, almost surgical piece of advice on plant care in her soft, calm voice. "The orchid requires specific light angles for optimal bloom," she might say, or "A well-drained soil mixture prevents root rot in succulents." The grandmothers listened, fascinated by her quiet expertise. Althea found herself smiling genuinely. This outing was doing everyone good.

As the meeting wound down, Martha pressed a small, potted succulent into Althea's hands. "A gift, dear. For your collection. Welcome to the club."

"A perfect addition," Althea said, genuinely touched. "I'll cherish it." She smiled at Mrs. Li. "And now, Mrs. Li, I think we have an appointment with a long, satisfying walk home, so I can test my agility with my new plant."

Back on the quiet, tree-lined road, Althea clutched her new succulent. The afternoon had been a bizarre, wholesome triumph. It was a glimpse into a world far removed from her high-stakes, amnesiac existence, a world that saw her and Haven as a fairytale.

"Sushi," Althea confided, her mind still fixed on the spot where Haven had stood earlier, slicing fruit with a warrior's focus. "Your other owner is kinda... devastatingly hot. My God. I am in so much trouble."

Sushi simply wagged his tail, a silent, happy conspirator in the beautiful, chaotic mess that was their life.