Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Sienna
I spread the presentation files across my desk in neat rows, checking each one for the third time. I have revenue projections, territory maps, security protocols, and risk assessments.
Everything is perfect. It has to be.
My reflection stares back at me from my darkened monitor. Navy suit; hair pulled back in a smooth, low bun; makeup flawless. I look like someone who has her life completely together.
But I feel like I want to throw something. Preferably at Alpha Lucas Steele’s stupidly handsome face.
“Too young…” I mutter to the empty office. “Inexperienced?!”
My wolf snarls in agreement. She has been on edge since the welcome party, pacing restlessly, flabbergasted about our mate’s apathy.
I understand the feeling.
I grab my coffee, third cup this morning, and take a long drink. The caffeine isn’t helping with my exhaustion from only four hours of sleep, but at least it’s giving me something to do with my hands besides clenching them into fists.
He doubted my competence yesterday in Darius’s office.
His own team spent the welcome party telling me how much he values competent people, how he’d be impressed with someone so young being trusted to head a division. So, hearing him say those words both stumped and infuriated me.
Of course, I can guess why he’s doing it.
He’s trying to get rid of me, trying to avoid the mate bond by having me reassigned.
It’s transparent and cowardly and exactly the kind of avoidance I should have expected after he literally shoved me out of his way when we first met.
And has, to this moment, refused to have a conversation.
I know his words don’t take away from my skills, but they still sting.
No. They more than sting. They piss me off.
I didn’t claw my way all the way up to chief strategic advisor just to have some other pack’s alpha—fated mate or not—question whether I deserve to be here. I earned this position. I proved myself over and over again.
And now, I’m going to prove myself one more time. After Darius called me into his office and explained that I would have to demonstrate to Alpha Steele why I deserve my position, I stayed up late making sure that my work is perfect.
My phone buzzes. Reminder: Joint merger meeting, Conference Room B, 10 a.m.
I check the time. Nine forty-five.
I gather my files, my laptop, and my tablet with the backup presentations. I straighten my suit jacket and check my reflection in the monitor one more time.
I look confident and unruffled. Good.
The walk to the meeting is shorter today. As I get out of the elevator, my heels click against the marble floors, a quick rhythm matching my brisk stride. Other division heads nod as I pass. A few offer congratulations on my promotion.
I smile, thank them, and keep walking.
Conference Room B is not as big as the one we used yesterday, designed for smaller meetings and one-person presentations. Oval table, comfortable chairs, whiteboards along one wall. The Silvercrest team is already here—Marcus, Sarah, Thomas, and three others I recognize from the welcome party.
And Lucas.
He’s sitting next to where Darius’s nameplate is positioned, looking at something on his phone. His suit is dark gray and perfectly tailored. His expression is neutral, professional, and he doesn’t look up when I enter.
Fine. Two can play that game.
I take the seat directly across from him, right in front of a fan so my scent wafts his way. If he’s going to ignore me, I’ll make sure he has to work at it.
Darius arrives a moment later, coffee in hand and looking far too relaxed for someone mediating what is probably going to be a tense meeting.
“Good morning everyone,” he says, settling into his chair. “Thank you for being here. Today we’re going to dive into the actual framework for integration. Sienna has prepared a comprehensive overview of the proposed structure.”
He gestures to me.
I stand and move to the front of the room, where I display my presentation on the screen. I don’t look at Lucas. I slip into work mode instead, doing what I do best without unnecessary distraction.
I pull up my first slide: a clean, professional overview of the project model.
“The merger framework is built on a phased integration approach,” I begin, my voice strong and clear. “Phase one is assessment, which we’ve already discussed. Phase two is planning and preparation. Phase three is full integration and implementation.”
I click to the next slide, showing the timeline.
“The entire process, from initial assessment to full integration, is projected to take three years. This isn’t a rushed merger. We’re taking the time to do it right.”
I can feel Lucas’s gaze on me now. I ignore it.
“Each phase has specific milestones and decision points,” I continue, walking my audience through the timeline. “If at any point either pack determines the merger isn’t working, we have built-in exit strategies that allow for clean separation with minimal disruption.”
Marcus leans forward. “What kind of disruption are we talking about?”
“Financial, primarily,” I answer. “There are some shared resources during phase two that would need to be untangled. But we’ve structured the plan so that both packs retain operational independence until phase three. No one surrenders autonomy until we’re certain this is going to work.”
I click to the next slide: security protocols.
“One of the biggest concerns in any pack merger is security. We’re proposing a joint council with representatives from both packs. All major security decisions require unanimous approval from the council. Neither pack can be overruled on matters of their own safety.”
Sarah nods approvingly. “That’s smart. Prevents either side from being bulldozed.”
“Exactly.” I move to the next slide: territorial projections. “Now, regarding territory management and resource allocation—”
“Question.”
The voice comes from one of the Silvercrest advisors I’ve only met once. Older man, silver hair, sharp eyes. His nameplate reminds me that his name is Richard Chen.
“Yes?” I keep my tone pleasant.
“Your territorial yield projections…” He taps his tablet. “You’re estimating a twelve percent increase in combined territory value. That seems optimistic.”
“It’s based on current utilization rates and projected development,” I explain.
“Yes, but your model assumes Silvercrest’s western boundary follows the pre-expansion lines.” He flips his tablet around to show me the map he has pulled up on it. “We expanded that territory two years ago. Your yield calculations are based on outdated data.”
I let him finish. Let him lay out his entire counterargument about why my projections are inflated, why the actual yield would be closer to eight percent.
The rest of the room is quiet, watching.
I wait until he’s completely done. Then, I smile.
“You’re absolutely right that Silvercrest expanded their western boundary two years ago,” I say calmly. “The expansion added approximately two thousand acres of previously unclaimed territory.”
I press one key on my laptop to display a different slide: detailed boundary maps with dates.
“The yield calculations in my model are indeed based on the post-expansion boundaries. I’m using the current territory data, not the historical data.
” I zoom in on the western section. “The confusion might be coming from the fact that I referenced the pre-expansion population density in section four. That’s not a projection error; that’s showing the growth rate comparison. ”
I cite the exact acreage from memory, then walk him through the methodology step by step.
“My model actually underestimates the yield in Silvercrest’s favor,” I conclude. “I used conservative estimates for development potential in the expanded zones. If you achieve even seventy percent of your projected development goals, the actual yield will be closer to fifteen percent, not twelve.”
I say all of this without condescension or smugness. Just facts, clearly explained.
Richard studies his tablet for a few moments. Then, he nods. “You’re right. I was looking at the wrong reference data.”
“Easy mistake,” I say genuinely. “Section four overlaps with this one in some areas.”
The questions that follow aren’t challenging but rather inquisitive.
I explain the financial projections, the governance structure, the timeline for phase two implementation.
My audience pushes back on some points, suggests modifications to others.
I defend what needs defending and adapt what makes sense to adapt.
It’s a good meeting. Productive. And through all of it, I can feel Lucas watching me.
Not the presentation slides. Me.
I don’t look at him because I don’t want to know what expression he’s wearing until I’m done. I hold myself straight, keep my voice level, and present my work with the confidence of someone who knows exactly what she’s doing.
By the time I reach the end of my presentation, even the skeptical advisors are nodding along.
“I think this is a solid framework,” Sarah says. “Obviously there are details to iron out, but the overall structure is wonderful.”
Marcus agrees. “The security council is particularly well-designed. It addresses my biggest concern about operational independence.”
Darius looks pleased. “Excellent work, Sienna. I think we’ve covered everything we needed to today.” He closes his laptop. “Thank you all for your time. We’ll reconvene via teleconference next week to discuss implementation specifics.”
The meeting adjourns. The Silvercrest team gathers their materials, talking among themselves. Sarah catches my eye and gives me a subtle thumbs up. Lucas is already standing, closing his laptop.
I pack up my own files slowly, deliberately. Let everyone else file out first.
“Sienna, please,” Darius says as the last of the Silvercrest team heads for the door. “Would you join Alpha Steele and me for a moment?”
My stomach drops.
Lucas freezes, his hand still on his laptop.