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Corporate Fangs

Rain lashed against the windows of VentureTech's corporate headquarters as I crouched behind a filing cabinet, my heightened werewolf senses picking up the steady hum of servers. The familiar scent of James's cologne lingered in the air, a ghostly reminder of my past life. My fingers trembled slightly as I typed in his old password—a combination of our wedding date and his mother's maiden name. Some habits die hard, even after betrayal.

The monitor's glow illuminated my face as encrypted files populated the screen. Each click felt like a countdown timer, knowing security could discover my presence any moment. But I had to know the truth. The image of James's mutilated body flashed through my mind, driving me forward despite the risk.

"Level 3 security breach detected," a robotic voice announced overhead.

My heart rate spiked, but I forced myself to remain focused. Being a werewolf had its perks—enhanced speed, strength, and senses. But right now, I needed my old skills: the razor-shar
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