Chapter 2
Peter was bored. He’d spent the morning working out and training with his friend Merchant—getting his blood pumping and making him feel vicious as they grappled on the training mats—but now he was behind his desk with nothing to do.
Slouched back in his chair, his head thrown back, Peter stared up at the ceiling. He had a meeting with a prospective client in two hours, but until then he was about as useful as an omega. He missed being out with his men so much it was like a visceral ache.
Fuck this.
Sitting up, furious with himself for wallowing and wasting time, he pushed down the button on his phone to talk to his assistant right outside the office.
“David, has Merchant handed in his evaluations yet?”
He hadn’t thought to ask Merchant that morning if the evaluations were done, and now he wished he had.
Merchant, aside from being a friend of sorts, was a team leader in the mercenary division of Tank Security.
One of his unofficial responsibilities was to evaluate the guys they poached from the military.
He had a knack for figuring out which soldiers were suitable for the more ethically dubious jobs Tank Security took on, and for weeding out guys with too much moral fiber.
Peter had no use for alphas that couldn’t get their hands a little dirty.
“Not yet, Mr. Tank. Do you want me to call him and ask for them?”
“No. Did you book a table for my two o’clock?”
“Yes, sir. You’re at the Gracia, with a private table.”
Peter felt foolish for asking. Of course David had booked the table. The young beta was good at his job, and he probably didn’t appreciate Peter second-guessing him.
Not that Peter particularly cared what he thought.
Pulling up the file on the client he was meeting with, Peter read over the notes the head of his IT division, Dawn, had compiled for him.
Dawn was a serious woman and younger than any of the team leaders in the mercenary arm of Peter’s company, but she was the best hire Peter had ever made.
She’d single-handedly enabled his move into IT security, and if things continued as they had for the past two years, her division would soon be more profitable than all his mercenary operations put together.
Which was why Peter was now working in the office full time rather than heading up a team of mercenary contractors of his own. He might enjoy mercenary work, but he enjoyed making money more. If the money was in cyber security, that’s where he’d focus his efforts—no matter how boring it was.
Dawn’s notes were concise and easily understood; laying out the reasons Novotech should hire Tank Security to secure their systems. The most compelling argument? How easily she had breached their security and stolen about a billion dollars’ worth of pharmaceutical research.
Peter snorted. Dawn was ballsy, he had to give her that.
Looking at his watch, Peter decided he might as well head out.
“Should I call down for your car, Mr. Tank?” David asked as he walked past his desk. Peter nodded, heading toward the elevator. He hit the button to go down, and as he waited for the elevator to reach his floor he buttoned up his coat and slipped on his gloves.
The elevator dinged, and the doors opened. Peter stepped inside and stared at his reflection in the mirror.
It was always a little jarring to see himself dressed up in a suit. He filled out the tailored pants and jacket beautifully, his muscular body displayed just right, but there was something a little too civilized about it for Peter’s taste.
But this was the role he had chosen to play—a boardroom alpha—and Peter would be damned if he wasn’t the most sharply dressed and intimidating specimen in the room. Allowing himself a tiny smirk, Peter adjusted his tie and brushed an imaginary piece of lint off his shoulder.
The Novotech rep wouldn’t know what hit him.
***