She viewed the city below from the glass of her penthouse office, but Vespera Stark’s attention was focused on a single object: which was the photograph across her desk. A fuzzy shot. Her exiting from a restricted area, reserved for pack members, showed that it had been taken from a distance, via surveillance. Someone inside her empire was feeding her enemies with information. Her fist tightened against the desk as she took a closer look at the evidence. Whoever the spy was, they’d chosen their moment carefully and their target. If this gets to the wrong hands, centuries of work shielding her pack beneath the guise of Stark holdings could crumble in the blink of an eye. There was a knock on the door. His scent, warm and completely familiar, arrived before he did, she didn't have to ask who it was. He stepped inside, broad shoulders filling the doorway. His return threw her perfectly built world into chaos His voice, low and deliberate, broke the silence. “You have been avoiding me.” Vespera closed the file, covering the photograph that was about to seal her fate, and leaned into her chair as if she had all the time in the world. “Avoiding implies I thought of you enough to take precautions.” His mouth curved into a smirk. “Still sharp.” She didn’t answer. Silence was a weapon too. Eitan’s gaze flicked to the folder beneath her hand. “You don’t trust me. That’s why you keep everything locked in there.” Vespera arched a brow. “Eitan" you would not be in my office, if I don't trust you. His eyes held hers, dark and unyielding. “Then why does it feel like I’m not welcomed?” The words hit harder than she wanted to admit. Memories tugged at the edges of her composure — a rooftop, a younger version of herself laughing in stolen freedom, Eitan’s lips on hers under the stars. The first time she’d ever felt the quiver of belonging to someone else. She shut the memory down with practiced ease. The past had a painful grip on her. “I don’t have time for this,” she said snapped, standing up from her chair. “I have a meeting with Senator Marlowe.” At the name, Eitan’s expression sharpened. “The human who’s been pushing for genetic registries? You shouldn’t face her alone.” Vespera adjusted her suit jacket, the armor of a billionaire. “I built an empire that can stare down senators without trembling. I don’t need your protection.” But when he fell into step beside her, she didn’t order him to leave. She told herself it was strategic, let him reveal his intentions by staying close. Yet as they rode the private elevator down, his nearness was a distraction she hadn’t felt in years. Senator Marlowe was waiting in one of Stark Holdings' polished conference rooms, all false charm and expensive cologne. Her smile was the smile of a woman who believed the system bent to her, and her handshake lingered a fraction too long. “Ms. Stark,” she said smoothly, “a pleasure. I hear your company has been expanding in land acquisitions. Remarkable, really, how swiftly you’ve outpaced competitors.” “Efficiency rewards the bold,” Vespera replied, taking her seat at the head of the table. Eitan positioned himself in the shadows near the window, silent, watchful. Marlowe’s eyes flicked to him, curious, but Vespera ignored it. The senator laid out her proposal—couched in the language of “public safety” but dripping with menace for her kind. Mandatory genetic screenings. Heightened surveillance in certain districts. Hidden in the jargon was a wolf hunt waiting to happen. Vespera’s smile never faltered. “Surely, Senator, you aren’t suggesting America needs witch trials to thrive in the twenty-first century.” Marlowe chuckled, but there was steel in her eyes. “Transparency strengthens trust. If your corporation values innovation as much as you say, surely you have nothing to hide.” Every word was a blade pressed against her pack’s throat. She couldn’t show fear. She leaned back, crossing her leg over the other. “Innovation also values privacy. Investors like mine don’t respond well to witch hunts.” It became a stylish argument and smiles, each layered with hidden stakes. All through, she felt Eitan’s eyes focused on her, a reminder she hadn’t asked for but couldn’t ignore. Finally, Vespera steered the conversation toward land development projects. On paper, she was offering Marlowe leverage—prime real estate for her political allies. In reality, every acquisition expanded safe havens for her wolves, disguised as corporate sprawl. When the meeting ended, Marlowe left satisfied. However, Vespera felt the tightening coil of war beneath the veneer of politics. As soon as the door shut, Eitan was on her. Not with hands, but with words that pressed harder than touch. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Vespera. One wrong slip and that woman will have hunters at your doorstep.” “I’ve been through worse,” she said, as she turned away. “Not alone.” The quiet force in his voice stopped her. She spun, anger flashing. “Don’t pretend you have a right to say that. You forfeited it when you left me bleeding in the dirt of your rejection.” The words were knives, but his gaze didn’t waver. “I never stopped watching you. Not once.” Her breath caught despite herself. The years between them collapsed in that instant, leaving the raw truth of what they’d once shared hanging between them. “Ei...tan” she stuttered, but his closeness was a threat to her composure. He moved closer —close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from his body, his hands trembling. “Do you still think of me as the man who rejected you?” he murmured. Her reply came brittle and sharp. "I don’t think of you at all." But her heart skipped, quick and uneven. He heard it. She saw the flash of pure want in his eyes. “Your heartbeat says otherwise.” Furious with him, with herself, and with the persistent scent of their old love, she pulled away and paced toward the door. Later, while alone in her private suite, she let the memory unravel— On a rooftop garden, years ago. She was twenty-two, the heiress of a fading empire, always dreaming of the power she would one day yield. He had been her protector, her shadow, her first betrayal waiting to happen. The soft memory of his hand on her jaw came back to her, his voice rough as he said, “You could build an empire, Ves. And I’ll be there, every step, if you’ll let me.” She’d kissed him then, reckless and wild, the city spinning beneath them. In those moments, she trusted him. Staring at her reflection in the mirror, she whispered, “Liar.” She moved into an hidden chamber in her office, which no one knew existed, except her most trusted guards. Inside, the air was warm. Photographs pinned neatly to the wall. A child’s drawings. A toy wolf, worn at the edges. Vespera’s face softened in a way it never did in public. She touched one of the photos—a small hand tucked into hers and felt the tight knot of longing she carried every day. This was her greatest secret. The legacy no one knew existed. The sound of footsteps made her spin, slamming the case shut just as the door opened. Eitan filled the frame. His eyes narrowed. “What are you hiding?” “Another contingency plan,” she said smoothly, stepping past him. But the lie tasted bitter. For a heartbeat, it seemed he might press further. But he let her go, though suspicion lingered in his gaze. That night, her plan bore fruit. The false intel she’d seeded among her executives reappeared in an anonymous report—leaked to one of Marlowe’s aides. The mole was real. And close. Vespera studied the report with a predator’s patience, fury simmering beneath her calm mask. Whoever betrayed her would pay dearly. Then came another message, delivered to her private line. No name, only words that froze her blood: We know what you’re hiding, Alpha. Her reflection in the glass looked suddenly fragile, a queen in a tower of glass one arrow away from shattering. She whispered to the city skyline, a vow and a warning both: “If they find her… I lose everything.”