Chapter 25
Lucas
The setting sun cast long shadows across my office as I leaned back in my leather chair, reviewing the final details of the plan.
There were still over two hours to the gala, and there was a lot to do, yet I could barely concentrate.
All I could think about was Alison. She was my mate—my true Luna—and I would move heaven and earth to win her back.
I loosened my tie and rolled up my sleeves, spreading the venue blueprints across my desk. The security would be tight, but nothing my pack couldn't handle. We'd infiltrate as guests, position ourselves strategically, and when the moment came, I'd make my move.
My intercom buzzed, interrupting my thoughts.
"Lucas, James is here to see you," Eliza said.
"Send him in," I replied.
The door opened, and James strode in with his usual confident gait. As my second-in-command and lifelong friend, he knew me better than anyone, which meant he immediately noticed the dark circles under my eyes and the tension in my shoulders.
"You look like hell," he said bluntly, dropping into the chair across from me.
I snorted. "Always the charmer."
"Someone has to tell you the truth." He glanced at the blueprints spread across the desk. "The pack's worried about you."
James leaned forward, his expression serious. "Lucas, I'm not just here as your beta. I'm here as your friend. Talk to me."
I hesitated. As the Alpha, showing vulnerability wasn't something that came naturally, even with James. But the weight pressing on my chest had become unbearable.
"I can't lose her, James," I admitted, my voice rougher than I intended. "I can't lose either of them."
"You won't," he assured me.
"You don't understand." I stood and moved to the window, staring out at the city lights beginning to flicker on as dusk deepened.
"I had her, James. I had her, and I lost her.
I finally found my mate after all these years, learned I have a son—a beautiful boy with my eyes and my blood—and then this UK crisis pulled me away at the worst possible moment. "
James was quiet, letting me continue.
"I should have taken her with me. I should have explained everything in person instead of leaving that damn letter which she never received." My fist clenched at my side. "Now she believes I only wanted her for the Black family connection. She thinks everything between us was a lie."
"The pack knows the truth," James said firmly. "We all feel it—the bond between you two. It's real, and we're with you one hundred percent. Every member is ready to help you get your family back."
I turned to face him, struck by a sudden wave of gratitude. "I don't deserve such loyalty."
"Don't be dramatic," James said with a half-smile. "You've led this pack through countless challenges. You've always put our welfare first. Now it's our turn to stand by you when you need us most."
His words eased something tight in my chest. "Thank you."
"So," James nodded toward the blueprints, "walk me through this master plan of yours."
For the next hour, we refined the details of crashing the gala. Pack members would be strategically placed throughout the venue, ready to contain any security threats while I confronted Victor and reclaimed my mate.
"What about the investors?" James asked as we concluded. "Victor's been whispering in their ears while you were away."
I checked my watch. "I have a meeting with them in thirty minutes. Time to undo his damage."
James stood, straightening his jacket. "I'll brief the pack on the plans."
After James left, I gathered the documents for the quick investor meeting, my mind drifting to Alison.
Was she thinking of me? Did she miss me despite believing I'd betrayed her?
And Leo—my son—did he ask about me? The thought of that little boy, with my eyes and Alison's smile, made my wolf howl with longing.
"Soon," I whispered to myself. "Soon we'll be together."
The boardroom fell silent as I concluded my presentation. Five of my largest investors sat around the table, their expressions shifting from skepticism to renewed confidence as I systematically dismantled Victor's lies.
"As you can see," I said, gesturing to the projected figures, "not only is Black Enterprises completely stable, but we're outperforming projected profits by seventeen percent this quarter alone. I'm prepared to offer each of you an additional three percent return as a gesture of good faith."
Marcus Reynolds, a silver-haired venture capitalist who'd been with me since the beginning, leaned forward. "That's quite generous, Lucas. But I'm curious—why did these rumors about financial instability spread so quickly while you were abroad?"
I met his gaze steadily. "Because Victor Chen orchestrated them deliberately. His company is floundering, and he saw an opportunity to damage mine while I was dealing with the UK crisis."
"And your personal relationship with the Black heiress?" asked Diana, another key investor. "There's talk that your... entanglement with her is clouding your business judgment."
My jaw tightened. So Victor had been spreading that particular poison, too.
"My personal life has no bearing on my business decisions," I stated firmly. "But since you've raised the subject, let me be clear: Alison Black is my mate—my fated partner according to werewolf law. Our connection existed long before either of us knew of her connection to the Black family."
Diana's eyes widened slightly at my candor. In business circles, we werewolves typically downplayed our nature, but I was done with half-truths.
"Furthermore," I continued, "a partnership between our companies would only strengthen both. The Black family assets and mine are complementary, not competitive."
For another hour, I fielded their questions, providing evidence that systematically debunked every rumor Victor had spread. By the time the meeting concluded, their confidence was restored.
"Well, Lucas," Marcus said as they prepared to leave, "it seems we were misled. You can count on our continued support."
"Thank you," I replied, shaking each of their hands. "Your trust means a great deal to me."
After they filed out, I sank back into my chair, rubbing my temples. The meeting had been a success, but the day was far from over. There was one more thing to do. The most important of it all.
I was gathering my papers when my phone rang—an unknown number.
"Hawkins," I answered crisply.
"Lucas," a smooth voice replied. "I believe we have mutual interests to discuss."
I recognized the voice immediately. James Montgomery, one of Victor's board members whom I'd met at several industry events. "I'm listening."
"Not over the phone," he said, lowering his voice. "Can you meet tonight? There are things about Victor's plans you need to know."
Victor's plans. What was he talking about?
I checked my watch. It was almost 7 pm already. Just over an hour before the gala."
"The underground parking at Centennial Towers. Ten minutes."
"I'll be there," I confirmed, ending the call.
I texted James to alert him about the meeting, standard protocol when dealing with potential informants, especially those connected to rivals.
Then I gathered my things and headed for the elevators, my mind racing with possibilities.
If Victor's own board members were turning against him, it could give me the edge I needed.
The underground parking garage at Centennial Towers was dimly lit and eerily quiet when I arrived. I parked in a corner spot with good visibility of the surroundings, my wolf senses on high alert. Something felt off.
I stepped out of my car, scanning the shadows. "Montgomery?" I called out, my voice echoing against concrete walls.
No response.
A faint scent caught my attention—unfamiliar humans, adrenaline, gun oil. My muscles tensed as I realized the truth: there was no meeting. This was a trap.
"I know you're there," I said calmly, setting my briefcase down and removing my suit jacket. "Show yourselves."
Slow clapping echoed through the garage as five men emerged from behind pillars and vehicles, surrounding me in a loose semicircle. They wore dark clothing, and three had visible weapons—handguns that glinted dully in the low light.
"Lucas Hawkins," the one in the center said, his voice dripping with false courtesy. "Our employer sends his regards."
I loosened my tie, assessing each of them quickly. Human mercenaries, professionally trained by the look of them, but nothing an Alpha werewolf couldn't handle.
"Let me guess," I replied, keeping my tone conversational. "Victor was too much of a coward to face me himself?"
The leader's smile didn't reach his eyes. "Mr. Chen thought you might appreciate some... persuasion to stay away from the gala. He doesn't want you there. Alison is his now."
My wolf surged within me, bristling at the mention of Alison as Victor's. I tamped down the rage, knowing I needed to stay in control.
"Tell your employer that if he wants to discuss Alison, he should come to me directly," I said, my voice dropping to a dangerous register. "Though I can't promise he'll walk away from that conversation."
"We're not here to deliver messages," the man replied, drawing his gun. "Just to make sure you understand the consequences of interfering."
In a blink, he raised his weapon and pulled the trigger.
The shot rang out, but I was already in motion, my body reacting faster than thought, faster than human sight could follow. The bullet sliced past my ear, hot and furious, as I sidestepped into the shadows.
Before he could recalibrate, I was on him. I seized his wrist mid-pivot and twisted hard. The sickening crunch of bone was immediate, followed by his scream tearing through the stillness of the garage. The gun fell from his shattered grip, skittering across the concrete.
The others didn't hesitate. Two charged at me with gleaming knives, while the rest raised their guns in unison.
I dropped low beneath the first wild slash, the blade singing past my head. My fist drove upward, precise, brutal—into the attacker's solar plexus. His body jolted backward like a ragdoll, crashing into a nearby concrete pillar before crumpling at its base, gasping for air.
A shot cracked through the chaos—sharp, close. Pain tore across my shoulder, the bullet grazing flesh. Heat bloomed across the wound, sharp and blinding.
My control slipped. My wolf surged forward, not in fury, but with icy purpose.
I turned to the second knife-wielder just as he lunged. One hand caught his throat, lifting him clean off the ground. His legs kicked wildly in the air as he clawed at my wrist, choking on his own panic.
"Tell Victor," I growled, my voice dropping to a register that was more beast than man, "that if he wants me dead, he should come himself."
Fear bloomed in the man's eyes as he clawed desperately at my hand. I tossed him aside like a rag doll, where he collapsed in a heap.
The remaining two gunmen fired simultaneously.
I felt a bullet tear through my side, but the pain barely registered through the adrenaline.
With preternatural speed, I reached the first shooter, breaking his arm before he could fire again.
His agonized howl filled the garage as the bone shattered beneath my grip.
The last attacker turned to flee, but I caught him by his jacket, spinning him around to face me.
"P-please," he stammered, eyes wide with terror. "I-I have a family."
"So do I," I snarled, feeling my canines lengthening despite my efforts to maintain my human form. "A family your boss is trying to take from me."
I struck him across the temple with enough force to knock him unconscious but not kill him. As much as my wolf wanted blood, I needed these men alive—needed Victor to know that his attempt had failed.
Standing amid the groaning, broken bodies of my would-be assassins, I assessed my injuries. The bullet in my side throbbed painfully, but it wasn't near any vital organs. My werewolf healing would take care of it by morning.
I retrieved my phone from my pocket, dialing James.
"It was a trap," I said when he answered. "Five of Victor's men. They've been... neutralized."
"Are you hurt?" James asked, concern evident in his voice.
"Nothing serious," I replied, pressing my hand against the wound to stem the bleeding. "Send a cleanup team to the Centennial Towers garage. I want these men questioned thoroughly before they're released."
"On it," James confirmed. "And Lucas? This confirms our suspicions. Victor's desperate. He knows he's losing."
"Good," I said grimly. "Because I'm just getting started. Is everyone ready?"
"Yes, we are."
"Good."
After ending the call, I gathered my jacket and briefcase, ignoring the blood seeping through my shirt. The pain was nothing compared to the ache of being separated from Alison and Leo.
As I made my way back to my car, stepping over one of the unconscious attackers, I felt a grim satisfaction. Victor had tried to eliminate me, which meant he feared me. And he was right to.
I slid behind the wheel, wincing slightly as the movement pulled at my wound.
In the rearview mirror, I caught sight of my eyes—glowing amber, my wolf still close to the surface.
The attack had only strengthened my resolve.
Victor was growing desperate, resorting to violence because he knew he couldn't win Alison's heart fairly.
"Soon," I whispered, thinking of Alison's face, of Leo's smile. "Soon we'll be together."
I started the engine, determination settling like steel in my bones. Victor had just made his biggest mistake. He'd shown his hand, revealed the depths he would sink to. And now nothing—not Victor, not his hired thugs, not even Alison's doubts—would stand in my way.
With that promise burning in my heart, I drove into the night to get my woman back.