Dressed in a silk black shirt, a couple of its buttons opened and its sleeves rolled up to his elbow, Draven walked through the hallways of the hospital. A shadow shaded his expression, but aside from that, no other emotion was visible on his face. One hand propped in a pocket of his black trousers, he entered the private ward on the VIP floor. Derek jerked as the door swung open, and the face he saw at the doorway made him pale several shades. "My lord." His voice came out as a breathy, petrified, croak. Rather than reply, Draven took a look around the ward he'd just entered. It was clean and spacious, with every comfort a VIP patient could want. Good. There would have been hell if any expenses had been spared to make his partner comfortable. As Draven turned to the lower-ranked man, he squirmed, his fear visibly paralyzing him. Derek sat on a stool beside the bed where Belinda lay unconscious, her body bandaged in several places and a drip inserted into the vein at her wrist.
Sunlight hit her face, causing her eyelids to flicker open. The first few seconds Belinda spent awake, she wondered where she was and what was happening. Her vision gradually grew clearer, she picked out the white wall and the tiled roof, the classy furniture, and the painting of a meadow hanging on a wall. Okay, she recognized everything... she was in her bedroom at the Lycan's penthouse... but why, in the moon goddess', name did her entire body ache!? She ached in every place imaginable, and her head felt like it could fall off from her neck at any moment. Using her elbows as support, she tried to sit up on the bed, and groaned from the effort. The noise drew the attention of Lexie, who had been looking out the window of the room before then. She turned to a scene that brought tears to her eyes—a scene of Belinda alive and kicking—and immediately smiled. "You're okay. You're really okay." Rushing to the bedside, Lexie fell to her knees and threw her arms around Belinda. She enc
Pushing the door open after two knocks, Derek entered the CEO office of Knights & Co. "Good day, sir." He delivered his greeting with a bow. The room was spacious, the large ceiling-floor window allowing a magnificent view of the city. Paul had kept the decoration of his office simple, with sparse but luxurious furniture, and only the most needed equipment. Sitting behind his unnecessarily wide desk, he typed on his laptop. And although he noticed the entrance of his beta, he did not lift his gaze from the screen. "Yes. Yes. Come." He urged mildly, then poked at a thin file beside his laptop once Derek drew near. "Take this to the study at my home." The silent order was nothing out of the ordinary, so Derek thought nothing of it as he slid the file from the desk. In the process, several papers slipped to the floor, and he bent to pick them up. His eyes caught part of the title on one of the pages as he stood up... DEPARTMENT OF COMMUNICATION AND DATA MANAGEMENT. There was
The instant Belinda stepped into the Peach Valley Orphanage, children swarmed around her, as they always did. As usual, she laughed as she greeted them, and as usual, they squealed as she unloaded what she'd bought for them. She waited till they lost interest in her, going off to play with their new toys, before she stood up. Ellie was waiting at a table with a cup of coffee and a plate of biscuits. "You don't always have to get them something every time you come, you know." She said as Belinda took the seat opposite her. "I don't welcome you because of what you give me." "It's the kids, I've already formed a habit with them. Anything less would be a disappointment." Adjusting the position of her chair, Belinda settled into her seat. "They're fond of you." Ellie pointed out. Belinda smiled at that observation. "I'm fond of them too." "I can see that." Pausing just before her lips sipped from her cup, Ellie studied Belinda. Then, as though she'd seen what she'd bee
Derek was waiting for Belinda at their spot in the private park. He stood at the very same spot at the stone bridge, looking down at the clear waters as he battled with his thoughts. Raising his hand to his face, he stared at the screen of his phone. "We need to talk." The message on the screen read. He'd been so unsure before he'd sent that text to Belinda. He still was. For one, the Lycan had made it abundantly clear he didn't want him anywhere near "his woman". And the last meeting he'd had with the one in question still rattled his bones. The woman was his ex, for the moon goddess' sake, who had openly shown aggression towards his pack. She was the last person he should be associating with. His doubts became irrelevant as a soft feminine voice called his name. "Derek." Well, he couldn't back out now. Pocketing his phone, he turned in the direction of the voice. "Hello, Belinda." "I admit I was a bit surprised that you contacted me." Belinda moved to his side. She kept
Marcus was busy this afternoon, concentrated on supervising a group of men as they loaded cocaine into the building's underground basement. So, when his boss' mistress approached him, he couldn't help feeling a little annoyed. "Not a good time, Belinda." He grumbled through his teeth. "I know." Flashing him a brief smirk, she sashayed to his side. Her arms folding across her chest, she joined him to monitor the movers. "I need your help." "That was pretty obvious." Marcus signaled a man to move a package to a specific corner.At that moment, Belinda hesitated to continue. Even if Marcus refused to help her, she had no doubt that he wouldn't snitch on her. Their easy friendship had developed that much. Then why was she scared to open up to him? Taking a deep breath, she decided there was no problem as long as she said nothing that implicated herself. "How much do you know about the Sorcerer Clan?" She asked. "Why? Are you involved with them somehow?" For a sec
Lifting her hand, Belinda pressed her fingers to the rough colors strewn about the canvas, staring up at a face so eerily similar to her own, that she saw herself in it. But it couldn't be her. The lips of the woman in the painting were curved upwards, but it was nothing like the cold smile that never reached the eyes, which seemed to be all Belinda could manage. The painter had captured the twinkle in the silver eyes, and joy in her facial features. This woman appeared genuinely happy; unlike Belinda, she truly smiled. The Lycan stood beside the mysterious woman, his dark eyes and smile just as bright as her own. The way his hand was protectively wrapped around her waist, the way his body unconsciously leaned towards her, Belinda could tell she was someone important to him. But who was she? They were both dressed fashionably, or at least they would have been considered so in the late American 1800s. Belinda ran her fingers around the woman's jaw, down her slender neck, an
The doorbell rang, and Marcus strolled over to answer it. He opened the door to view Luisa's smiling face. She leaned on the doorpost, raising her hand to dangle the nylon she carried. "I got us some takeouts." She didn't wait for permission to sashay into the apartment, as she'd been there too many times to need to. Marcus' gaze followed her as she entered, watching as she dropped the takeouts on the nearest table and turned to him. He closed the distance between them, and she cupped his cheeks as she planted a kiss on his lips. Snaking an arm around her waist, Marcus deepened the kiss, using his tongue to part her lips. His body was pressed to hers, and as he let himself sink into her comforting softness, the shaft between his legs came to attention. Her laughter a light charming sound, Luisa pulled back. "Naughty boy." She playfully smacked his chest. Successfully wriggling out of his grip, she proceeded to the table. "Let's eat." Despi
Gazing at the racks in front of him, Derek buried his nose in the crook of his arm, to protect himself from the stench of silver. Just as he'd suspected, the number of boxes had reduced by approximately half, but that still left many. Being surrounded by the one element that could permanently harm him rattled his nerves, but he'd come here on important business. As the charity gala had been a dead end, he now needed to find new clues. Regrettably, that meant coming back here. With a disgruntled sigh, Derek lowered his hand from his face and reached into his pockets. He brought out a pair of leather gloves, which he wore over each hand. Protected and equipped, he began searching through the boxes. If there was one thing that was certain, it was that the weapons weren't made in the Knight family villa. That meant the Knights were only middlemen. If he could find who the producers were, then maybe he could find the final consumers. That was easier said than done, though. In the boxes w
Lila Salvador sat in her fiancé's study, her naked right foot insolently propped on his desk, and her fingers painting her pretty toenails red. Her silky black hair had been left to flow down her back, and a corner of her gown had slid down one shoulder. She was on the phone, and held the device to her ear with her shoulder. If Paul had been there, he would have killed her for getting so comfortable in his space, but that was the thing... He wasn't there. "I still can't believe it, Erika!" Lila whined into the phone. "They came to the house as late as evening. I'm sure they could have waited till morning, I mean he wasn't going anywhere. Yet, they disrupted my dinner. Couldn't find the appetite to eat again." "The arrest is trending everywhere. Making quite a buzz too." The female voice at the opposite end of the line said. "How are you faring?" "How else? Terribly." Lila was quick to reply. She slabbed a dash of red on her big toe, then leaned back to examine it. Once
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