Standing behind his set on a raised podium, a hand on one ear of his headset, the DJ played songs through the many speakers in the outdoor hall. One could tell he was proud of his mix, from the way he enthusiastically bopped his head to the music. The dancefloor below was scanty, but the few dancing along were having a good time, the beat guiding their twirling and twisting bodies. Those who weren't dancing loitered in groups of twos and threes, keeping busy with gossip, pictures, and the punch at the buffet table. The party was boring. Cecily bit her nails, which she had newly gotten done only a day ago, damaging the fragile acrylic. She'd rented out the most exclusive club in the city, had paid bloggers to advertise the event, and had ordered the guards to allow free entry at the gates. So why had nearly no one shown up? She was feeling restless and her feet wouldn't stop taping. Perhaps it was the nerves from the many hours of planning, or the two glasses of strong wine she'd dran
The interview drew people's attention. They turned, pausing whatever they were doing to listen in. They saw Cecily tear up, her lips quivering as she tried to hold in her sob. "It's all my fault. I'm a horrible, terrible person." Their interests were piqued by her self-castigation and her sad tone. Even the vlogger couldn't stop her eyebrows from shooting up. Cecily paused, sucking in a breath before continuing. "My family arranged my sister's marriage to her fiancé when she was young. It wasn't a love match but they were both content with the union. That is... until I and her fiancé fell in love. I knew it was wrong but I couldn't control myself. I did the unspeakable—I betrayed my sister's trust, betrayed my family. I don't blame them for their inability to forgive me, but not a single day goes by that I don't regret my actions. Once my sister confronted me, I did the right thing and broke it off with her fiancé. It doesn't matter if our love is real, it's wrong. I won't
The two women locked gazes for a long time, nothing but silence passing between them, their eyes challenging the other to give in first. Mary was deciding the best action to take. She and Belinda were nothing more than distant acquaintances, so when she'd received a text on her Facebook asking to meet up, she'd known it wasn't just to chat. But this was outrageous. Leaning back into her chair, she crossed her arms over her chest once again. "Even if you are right, and I somehow bear a grudge against Cecily for something that supposedly took place when we were children, why would I dig up something that has long been buried?" Mary asked. At that moment, Belinda softened her countenance. "People must have told you it was a long time ago, that you should give it up, but I'm assuming it still feels like yesterday to you. I might be wrong, but I believe I'm right." It was the opposite, actually. Everyone around Mary had yet to forgive the Chicago Pack fo
The keys to her room in hand, Belinda walked up the stairs of the motel she'd been staying at for the past week. In her opinion, the meeting with the Luna of the San Francisco Pack had gone pretty well. Despite still feeling skeptical, Mary had been more open to the idea of going against the Chicago Pack by the end of the encounter. She'd asked for time to consult her husband and father, promising to call in a week's time. Belinda would have preferred an answer immediately, but she could wait. It just meant more time at this crappy motel. She could manage that; the place was cheap. On stepping onto the second floor, Belinda spotted the last person she'd expected to see leaning on her room's door. Marcus straightened up on noticing her, his fist fixed in his jeans pocket. "Madam. You've finally arrived." He sarcastically bowed his head. Belinda was not in the mood for jokes, however. "How did you find me?" She snapped at him. Marcus gingerly lifted an eyebrow. "Do you really
Cecily marched up the stairs of the Knight family villa, the sound of her heels carrying across the anger she was feeling. She headed straight to the attic, which served as the servant's quarters, pushing the door open with far more strength than necessary. Martha and Mrs Brown jerked up from their beds, the sound of the door slamming on the wall awakening them. They wondered why the young mistress was here this early in the morning, but Cecily didn't bother to explain herself. Marching straight to Martha, she grabbed the girl's hair and pulled her off the bed. "You thought I wouldn't find out, didn't you?" Cecily raged. "Who else would have the balls to do something so stupid?" Writhing on the floor, Martha attempted to pull her hair out of Cecily's grip, but the werewolf was much too strong for her. Cecily yanked her hair more forcefully, causing her to scream out in pain. "I always knew you couldn't be trusted. It'
As early as 10 in the morning, Lexie met with Cecily, sitting across her at a table in the Knight villa's garden. Cecily seemed to be at ease, casually sipping her tea without a care in the world, but Lexie just couldn't calm herself down. A meeting with the alpha's sister was not at all a regular occurrence, and a thousand and one reasons were running through her head as to what had brought about this special occasion. Had all her efforts last night been a waste? She'd taken extra care to disguise herself, sneaking into the party wearing a blond wig and a dress she would have never worn otherwise. Had Cecily somehow found out she'd been the one to share that offensive video to the guests? Lexie couldn't tell. So, for the time being, she pasted a smile on her face and pretended all was well. "Did you call me here to book a photoshoot session?" She chirped giddily. "I mostly work as a paparazzi, but I can pull off amazing photogra
On ending the call with Lexie, Belinda sighed, pushing her phone into her shorts pocket. Really, she was tired, but matters that needed her attention just kept popping up. The unreasonable argument earlier this morning had drained her, the same as the many rounds of sex they'd had after that. At the moment, she wanted nothing more than to sleep, but there was yet another issue she had to attend to. Taking a deep breath, she proceeded to the Lycan's study. Draven sat at his cushioned office chair, deeply focused on a book spread open on his desk. Belinda had to knock on the already open door for him to look up at her. She didn't hold his attention for long though, as his gaze immediately dropped back to the desk. "Yes?" Draven asked while he read his book. "A friend of mine is in a bit of a fix. I was wondering if there was any work for her to do around here. A place to sleep, maybe?" "It's a skyscraper. There's always
Marcus hurried the corridor, dragging along Lexie who struggled to keep up. His legs were much longer than hers, so she had to take two steps at a time or risk stumbling. He finally stopped at the end of the hallway, right in front of the entrance to the restroom. "Don't move a muscle." He ordered sternly before rushing away. Lexie tried to obey his command, but her facial muscles wouldn't stop twitching. She was weighing the pros and cons of making a run for it. If she moved quickly enough, she could make it to the ground floor in about two minutes, and be out of the main doors in an instant. Before she could put her plan into motion, however, Marcus returned, a toilet brush in one hand, and a bucket in the other. He pushed both cleaning apparatuses into her hands. "Scrub every toilet. Wipe every surface. Mop every floor." As though he was speaking to a child, Marcus listed out the instructions slowly. He then pointe
The news of the arrest of Paul Knight took Chicago by storm. Apparently, their youngest, richest, and most handsome billionaire wasn't a saint. Some didn't mind his crimes. So he hid his money away from the government, who didn't? Then there were those who criticized him mercilessly for it. They were mostly those who were spiteful towards the rich, who felt it was unfair a select few lived in such luxury and extravagance, while they couldn't afford rent. He already had so much, they said, would it kill him to pay his dues to the government? It all should have ended with this simple argument, but then one random reporter from an unknown news outlet published an article reminding people of the Knight Tower scandal. The piece was derogatory, highlighting the rich's habit of trampling on the more unfortunate populace. However, the fire that had lighted the torch was the part where he'd speculated that something terrible had happened to the righteous Fleming couple, especially as they'd m
"Maddox Hawkmore. Who is he?" Georgina felt the color drain from her cheeks, her complexion dropping several shades. Every muscle in her body went taut, straining as her pupils dilated and her parted lips trembled. Belinda's eyebrows shot up at the intense response her mother had to the mention of a mere name. She looked terrified, and that brought to question why. A second later though, Georgina Knight had re-coordinated herself, but it was too late. Belinda had clearly caught her reaction. "You do know him," Belinda stated what she already knew was true. "Who is he?"Georgina had clearly heard Belinda, but she had questions of her own. Her lips thinning, she stared attentively at her daughter. "How do you know that name?" Belinda crossed her arms over her chest. "I asked first. Shouldn't you answer before interrogating me?"Leaning from her seat, Georgina clamped a fist around Belinda's wrist. "Answer me!" Her loud voice was earnest. "How do you know that name?" The tigh
Her phone rang, and Belinda dropped her fork and knife to check who was calling. She was at the restaurant at the Lycan's building, enjoying a meal alone because she needed the peace and quiet. Unfortunately, it was being disturbed. Her eyes on the screen, she lifted an eyebrow at the caller ID. "Hello, Derek." Belinda put the device to her ear. After their less-than-amicable parting at the gala, she'd half expected to not get a call from her ex-mate for a while. Turned out she'd underestimated his maturity. But then again, they had important business together, business more important than any petty quarrel they had. "Belinda." Derek's collected voice came from the other end of the line. "What are you doing right now?" He seemed to ask casually. "Nothing." She briefly glanced down at her almost empty plate. "Just having lunch." "With who?" The reason behind his query wasn't missed, and it made Belinda stiffen, her fingers clutching her phone tighter. Derek must hav
Paul was in his office when his secretary came rushing in, his eyes wide and his voice shaky. "Sir, we have a situation." Raising his head from the documents he'd been proofreading, the alpha of the Chicago Pack raised an annoyed eyebrow at the skinny young man. "I have people I pay to handle these ‘situations’." He stated the obvious. "This one is a bit out of hand, sir." The man insisted. The terror in the boy's demeanor and the way his entire body shook was what got Paul's attention. He dropped everything he was doing and exited from behind his desk. As he followed behind his secretary, he wished he hadn't hired someone so young, so inexperienced, and so easily flustered, for such a crucial office as his secretary. However, the boy was the son of an important member of his pack, and employing him had been a favor to his father. The things an alpha did for the sake of his pack. On arriving at the ground floor of the Knights & Co. company building, Paul quickly saw what
Sparks flew the instant the two lips touched. Draven devoured her hungrily, his tongue pushing her lips apart to dive into her mouth. Fire lit her nerve endings as they kissed, their mutual passion burning everything else away. Belinda straddled him on the chair, each of her legs gripping his thighs. Her arms went up his shoulders, crossing at the back of his neck as she pressed her breast to him. Instinctively, her hips rocked against his erection, creating the friction she desired. Her bare nipple grazed against his chest as she moved, drawing a strangled moan from her. Draven had never been so hard before. It was as though every blood cell in his body had pooled at his groin. His erection strained against his trousers, thick and literally painful. His mind roared with desire for his mistress, the beautiful woman who had fallen upon him by chance. Every fiber of his being wanted to be inside her, to bury himself deep within her. A strong possessiveness gripped him then. He wanted t
What had she done? Belinda's arm remained suspended in the air, as though it was too afraid to come down. The skin of her palm stung, undeniable proof that she had indeed hit the Lycan. She reeled from the thought. She, a low-ranking omega, had hit a man feared by alphas. Belinda could see that he hadn't moved since she'd slapped him, like he too couldn't believe what she'd just done. If only he knew—she was far more shocked than he was. At that moment, a part of her was screaming for her to apologize, to plead that she'd acted rashly and hadn't known what she was doing. The greater part—the part of her that was still possessed by nerve-numbing anger—refused to do that. "I really don't get you." Belinda glared up at Draven with every bit of venom she felt. "You seem to hate me. No," She corrected herself. "you definitely hate me. Yet, you keep me close. Why? You can have any woman on earth, so why choose me? Do you really feel that I deserve to be treated the way you treat me? W
Draven heard the footsteps approach long before he heard the knock. He didn't turn as the door swung open, instead focusing on unbuttoning the front of his white cotton shirt. He didn't need to, because even under the thick floral perfume, he could smell the scent of the woman at the doorway. Belinda Knight stood with her arms folded, her hips leaning on the doorpost. She looked ethereal in her seductive royal blue nightwear, her silky hair left to fall about her shoulders, its black shade gleaming in the moonlight. Draven heard her breath hitch as he turned to her, saw her pupils dilate despite the darkness. She gazed hungrily at the patch of bare chest she could see through his parted shirt, her eyes then quickly running down his muscular form. He too, looked her over. The flimsy excuse of a gown she was wearing loosely draped over her curves, leaving little to the imagination. It exposed most of her thighs and dipped at the neckline so her breasts were barely covered. As the dress
At first, Belinda was too stunned to react. Derek's lips molded against hers, the soft flesh drawing surprising sensations from her. Nerves danced all around her skin, the tingles traveling to the tips of her breasts and the forbidden place between her legs. She felt her nipples harden, poking at the thin silk of her dress, and her eyes grew wide. Damn it all! At long last, Belinda closed her eyes, threw her arms around Derek's neck, and gave herself to the kiss. Her submission pumped confidence into his actions, a hand sliding to her waist as he pressed harder into the kiss. He kissed her firmly, but unsurely, as though he was holding a piece of himself back. The nonaggressive way he handled her was so different from what she had gotten accustomed to this past few months, that it caused her to sigh. The low exhale set flames to his blood, and he pushed his tongue between her parted lips to find her own. She was so sweet, Derek reveled in the taste of her. How had he not noticed ho
Sweet Linda... Belinda's fingers flew to her face, and she confirmed the golden mask was still in place. How had he recognized her, then? She asked herself. More importantly, how did he know her name? She was certain she'd never set eyes on him before. It had to be damn near impossible to forget someone that unsettling, wasn't it? But it seemed he knew her. Her eyes narrowing, she fixed the mysterious man in the navy blue suit with an icy stare. "You know me." It was more of a statement than a question, and it made the man's smile broaden. "That flimsy disguise could never fool me. I could recognize you anywhere, dear. And anytime." His voice dropped an octave at the last word, giving it meaning, a meaning Belinda didn't understand. "I don't know you." She stated bluntly. "I suppose that was the agreement." Flattening one hand over his chest and fisting the other at his back, the man gave her a mock bow. "Let me introduce myself again. I am Maddox Hawkmore, at you