Kenzo clasped my hand and guided me to the seat he had chosen for me—on his left, of course. As expected, Beta Ronan occupied the seat to his right. With a gentleman’s grace, Kenzo pulled out the chair for me, his smile warm, his gestures effortlessly smooth. Yet, his kindness toward me had an unintended consequence—a sharp, icy wave of hostility came crashing from across the table, where she sat.

I exhaled slowly, forcing myself to ignore the irritation curling in my gut, but ...