Chapter 10

Inside the Pack, Finance Division suddenly got things.

New furniture and equipment across the board. A couch, a massage chair, a proper coffee station. And a team bonus for "outstanding contribution to a key project."

My subordinates were thrilled. They asked me which project.

I pressed my lips together. "A private one."

After the birthday party, Vivienne had let things settle for a while and then launched her real attack. At a division meeting she produced a document with multiple Operations team signatures and went after Finance head-on, listing all the ways the new expense policy was impossible to work with.

Declan looked genuinely blindsided, then lowered his voice and told her to leave the room.

Vivienne ignored him. Her eyes were fixed on me. She wasn't going to back down.

I was about to respond.

Cain smiled, relaxed. He turned to Vivienne.

"So your team genuinely can't adapt?"

Vivienne said yes, loudly.

Cain nodded. "Anyone who can't adapt to the Pack's standards will be reassigned to border operations."

He let Vivienne's face go white, then looked at Declan.

"Poor management on your part. You're going too."

The entire Operations Division got reassigned in one move. After that, the rest of the Pack's compliance with Finance policies snapped into shape overnight. One division head told me privately:

"The Alpha clearly did it to protect Elara. You're lucky she's here. Nobody will dare cross your division now."

Whatever. With those two gone, the air was noticeably cleaner.

...

Cain said I had a talent for getting under his skin. I told him he had a persecution complex.

Yes. With him, I was different.

That part of me that had never come out at work — it just showed up naturally.

"Why do you always sit with your legs crossed in meetings?" he said one day, eyes on my calves.

I stared at him. "I sit that way because I've been sitting too long. And I'm not the only one."

He frowned and shook his head. "You're the only one doing it on purpose."

"What?"

"And you fix your hair in front of me."

"Your fingers brush the table."

"You drink water with your mouth."

"You take your glasses off."

I sat there listening, somewhere between disbelief and laughter.

"So apparently every single thing I do is trying to get your attention. You've got impressive observational skills. Clearly I can't hide anything from you."

"That's right." He nodded like he'd had it confirmed. "I've always been someone with a calm temperament. But you keep doing these things and it makes my days very difficult."

I tilted my head. "So what do you want me to do? Get on my knees and apologize?"

"That's not necessary."

He muttered under his breath. Then he stood up, walked around the huge desk, and came to stand next to me.

He reached out and began, silently, to undo my buttons.

"This works."

He bent down, his voice low and muffled, with a childlike satisfaction in it.

I looked down at the white of his hair, and my fingers moved on their own, threading through it.

"Cain. Why did you dye your hair white?"

I asked without thinking.

He said something, but he was too focused and his voice didn't quite carry.

I meant to ask again.

But I tipped my head back instead.

And I stopped thinking about it.

Something hidden can only stay hidden so long before people start to notice.

At first it was just small things. Little details that didn't add up.

But when people compared notes and found that all the pieces fit together, they reached a conclusion with great enthusiasm:

The Alpha was seeing someone.

And whoever it was, she was in the Pack.

The first suspect was Elara.

She had cried at her birthday party when Cain walked out of the room, saying it was the best present she'd ever gotten. That seemed significant.

But someone raised an objection: they'd seen Cain on the phone, clearly pleased about something, and when he'd turned around, Elara was just happening to walk out of the elevator toward him. So that ruled out a secret phone call to her.

They started eliminating everyone else.

First elimination: the head of Building Services. Forty-nine.

Second elimination: Finance Director Wren. That's me. Thirty-three.

I was the only two women in the Pack older than Cain.

That was the analysis my two subordinates gave me in detail, one after the other.

I listened without reacting. I slowly peeled the lint off my sleeve covers, adjusted my glasses, and told them in my most serious voice:

"Focus on your work. No Pack gossip. Do you want your bonus or not?"

They flinched and retreated to their desks.

I didn't quite manage to stop my mouth from curving.

I turned around.

Elara was standing in the doorway.

She was staring at me, eyes wide, unblinking. Her face had lost some color.

"Elara. What's wrong?"