Chapter 2 #2
The corridor here is different. Less marble intimidation.
More lived-in. It’s more than just the fact that the art on the walls and half the furniture has already been replaced.
There’s a peaceful energy here that the old bastard could never achieve.
Lexi’s influence softens the edges without dulling the blade.
Andy Balistrieri, Lexi’s second, stands outside the office, tablet in hand, looking like the calm eye in the center of a storm that hasn’t hit yet.
Her blonde hair is tied up in a practical knot, highlighting cheeks that look slightly flushed, making me wonder if she’s just come from some stolen moment with Dutch. Not that I’m about to ask for details.
“Hey,” she says when she sees me. “I was just about to come look for you.”
“Razor wouldn’t shut up about his breakfast sandwich.” I shove my chin toward the ceiling. “How’s the patient today?”
“Resting. She had a rough night.”
My jaw tightens. Violet’s been having night terrors since she got here. I can’t blame her either. What Ramsey did to her would traumatize anyone, but a human on top of that, entering a world that’s full of monsters you never knew existed? It’s going to fuck her up for a while yet, I’m sure.
“Speaking of which, has she said anything about what happened when Ramsey was holding her? Or where they were?”
“Not yet. Why?”
“Donahue might have a lead on a possible location. It would help if Violet could corroborate it.”
Andy sighs. “Violet hasn’t been able to say much without getting upset. Lexi doesn’t want to push her before she’s ready.”
I nod, torn. I understand Lexi wanting to protect her friend, but we’re running out of time.
“Any new intel on your end?” I ask.
“Some,” Andy says carefully. “Lexi wants to go over it together.”
“Let’s do it.” I take a step toward Lexi’s closed office door, but Andy stops me.
“Actually, she’s just finishing up another meeting.”
“Oh.” I step back, frowning as I try to recall if the schedule might have changed overnight. As head strategist, I’m usually invited to the morning meetings—much to my boredom most days. Being kept out is new. “Who’s she with?”
“Grey… and a potential ally.”
“Ally?” I frown.
Andy shrugs. “Some alpha reached out with information and an offer. That’s all I know so far.”
My stomach tightens a notch. “Do you know the alpha’s name?”
Andy shakes her head. “They didn’t list it. Wanted it anonymous to keep the circle tight.”
“And you’re comfortable with being kept out of the loop?” I ask, arching a brow.
Andy is not someone they would leave outside the circle, so immediately I’m wary.
“I trust Lexi,” Andy says simply.
Ugh. So do I. Doesn’t mean I trust whoever’s on the other side of that door. Especially if it’s—
Nope. Not going there. There are a dozen alphas within a day’s drive alone. It could be anyone. I force myself to relax.
Andy looks at me like she knows what I’m thinking before turning her attention back to her tablet. I’d been a bit surprised when Lexi had named Andy as her second, but I quickly realized I’d been wrong in my assumptions of the woman.
If you’d asked me a year ago whether I’d ever be friends with bombshell blondie Andy Balistrieri, widow of Toros—one of the cruelest generals the mafia pack has ever seen—I’d have laughed in your face.
But fate has proven to have a twisted sense of humor of late.
Andy’s friendship is not the most surprising addition to my life by a long shot.
Before I can contemplate exactly what is the most surprising, the office door opens.
I straighten, eyes narrowing automatically as the occupants file out.
Grey exits first.
My wolf perks up immediately at the sight of her alpha.
Like she’s standing up straighter, more alert.
The reaction is nothing like when his father, Vincenzo, was alpha.
Where Vincenzo was chaotic and unpredictable, Grey is controlled.
Where Vincenzo was cruel, Grey is kind. I am grateful every day that he returned to this city and fought for his place here.
The world—or Indigo Hills, at least—would be a much worse place without him as an alpha in it and without his fated mate by his side.
Even I can admit these two are better together than apart. Which is extremely inconvenient evidence against my entire life philosophy, so I choose not to dwell on it.
Lexi Giovanni, high alpha of the mafia pack, emerges next. Her long hair is braided loosely down her back, which I know she only does when she’s trying to concentrate on paperwork and logistics and gets too impatient, having to swipe her hair aside.
I try to catch her eye or read their faces for some clue as to who this mystery visitor is or what the meeting has been about. But then Lexi steps aside, and I see who they’ve met with.
Holy wolf goddess.
Out of all the alphas it could have been, it’s him.
Nash Cross steps into the hall like it’s nothing to be here again after all this time. And looking at him, it feels like no time has passed at all.
Just like the night we met, he’s wearing a dark suit tailored to perfection.
Shoulders broad enough to block out the light from the window at his back.
A jawline that a sculptor would cry over.
A mouth you want tasting your skin. The man is sinfully hot and dangerously good in bed—a fact I learned firsthand two years ago right before we swore we’d never see each other again.
So, now he’s a liar to boot.
And I have big feelings about that, judging from the way my heart is pounding and I can’t quite breathe.
Nash’s dark eyes find mine immediately.
Not searching.
Not hesitant.
Direct. As if he expected me to be exactly where I am.
Trapped in his enigmatic gaze, my memory flickers—marble floors, masked laughter, the press of his hand at my waist, the weight of his mouth. The feel of his—
I lock it down.