[Chapter Four: Controlled Coincidences]

The file was thin.

Luca stared at the holographic screen in silence, silver eyes scanning every line twice. Not because the information was complex—but because it was… empty.

Bailey Copper. Nickname: Sunny. Golden Retriever Omega. Twenty years old. Enrolled on scholarship. Two part-time jobs. No powerful pack affiliation. No influential sponsors. No scandals.

Just… struggling.

Rent payments barely made on time. Late-night shifts at a café. Early mornings restocking shelves. Grades hovering in the respectable-but-fragile range. Medical checkups skipped. Meals missed more often than not.

Luca felt something twist.

Annoyance, he told himself. Inefficiency. Waste. A capable Omega stretched thin by a system Luca owned.

Yes. That was all.

He leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled, jaw tight. Helping would be simple. A revised scholarship. A stipend. A quiet intervention. He’d done it before—for donors, for appearances, for control.

This would be no different.

Except his wolf disagreed.

A low, restless presence stirred beneath his ribs, urging attention. Protection. Claim.

Luca shut the file.

“No,” he said aloud, as if the word could seal cracks already forming. He did not interfere without reason. He did not become involved. He did not care.

And yet—

The next morning, the café Bailey worked at received an anonymous investment that fixed its broken espresso machine and doubled staff wages.

Coincidence.

Later that week, a campus policy change rerouted night shuttle services—suddenly stopping near Bailey’s apartment.

Coincidence.

A malfunctioning hallway camera was replaced outside Bailey’s most-used building.

Coincidence.

Luca told himself these were logistics. Risk management. Ownership responsibilities.

He did not acknowledge the way his attention tracked Bailey’s schedule, nor how his security feeds lingered on one particular golden figure moving through campus.

Bailey, meanwhile, felt it.

Not fear—never fear—but awareness.

Sometimes, doors opened before he reached them. Sometimes, trouble simply… didn’t find him. A drunk Alpha backed off without explanation. A broken stair was repaired overnight. A scholarship officer “happened” to waive a late fee.

And sometimes, Bailey could swear he felt eyes on him—not predatory, not cruel.

Protective.

Warm.

Unsettling.

The second time they crossed paths, Luca made sure of it.

A quiet hallway. Midday. No crowd. No chaos.

Bailey nearly collided with him again—then froze, recognition sparking.

“O-oh—!” Bailey laughed nervously. “You’re… um. Hi.”

Luca inclined his head, perfectly composed, heartbeat steady only through force of will.

“Bailey Copper,” he said.

Bailey blinked. “You… know my name?”

Luca met his gaze, something dark and dangerous softening behind his eyes.

“I own the school,” he replied evenly. “It would be negligent not to.”

Bailey smiled—bright, trusting, oblivious.

And in that moment, Luca realized the truth he refused to voice:

This was no longer coincidence.

It was focus.

And the Alpha Wolf had never focused on anything this hard without intending to keep it.