Bonds

-Alex's POV-

I slumped back in my chair, the weight of the morning's news settling heavily on my shoulders. Miranda, with her usual brand of twisted amusement, had informed me of the merger between Amaya's and Ivan's packs. Individually, each pack hold considerable power, but combined, they were a force to be reckoned with. A grudging part of me acknowledged the strategic brilliance of the move, but the thought of their combined strength sent a jolt of irritation through me.

h What bothered me most was how smoothly things seemed to be progressing between them. My wolf growled in frustration, a primal echo of the anger simmering beneath the surface.

'She doesn't matter anymore, I repeated to myself, a mantra I'd been chanting for weeks now. Amaya had hurt me, betrayed me, and I wouldn't allow myself to be consumed by these lingering feelings.

Just then, the soft tap-tap-tap of heels on the hardwood floor broke through my reverie. "Sir?" My head snapped up to meet the concerned gaze of Ruth, my ever-patient personal assistant.

"What?" I barked, the harshness of my tone surprising even me. Truth be told, I'd been on edge all morning, and Amaya's name hanging in the air hadn't helped matters.

Why did she have to come back and disrupt everything?

Ruth flinched slightly. She was a master at navigating my moods, but even her calm demeanor seemed to falter under my glare. "I was just reminding you about your appointment at two o'clock, sir," she said softly.

Appointment? My brow furrowed in irritation. What appointment could possibly be important enough to tear me away turmoil brewing within me?

"Appointment with who?" I asked, forcing myself to sound somewhat professional.

"The interior designer, sir," She replied.

from the The reminder sent another wave of annoyance crashing through me. The whole redesign project felt trivial compared to the sanity struggle brewing in my head.

Couldn't it wait?

"Can't it be rescheduled?" I grumbled, the words tumbling out before I could stop them.

She hesitated for a beat, her brow creasing slightly. "I did check, sir," she said carefully. "But the interior designer said she wouldn't be available any other day this week."

Her words were like a match to a tinderbox. "Wouldn't be available?' The implication that the designer, whoever she was, had the audacity to dictate my schedule was infuriating. Yet, a part of me knew she was right. Putting off the renovations any longer would only cause further delays.

With a defeated sigh, I ran a hand through my hair. "Fine," I muttered, the anger still clinging to my voice. "Tell her I'll be here."

Her lips curved into a faint smile, a small victory in the face of my obvious frustration. "Of course, sir," she said, her voice regaining its usual calm efficiency. "Is there anything else I can get for you before your meeting?"

I shook my head, unable to muster the energy for any further conversation. The weight of the day, the simmering anger, and the unwelcome resurgence of Amaya in my life, all pressed down on me, leaving me feeling drained and out of sorts.Copyright Nôv/el/Dra/ma.Org.

"No, that's all, Ruth," I mumbled, dismissing her with a wave of my hand. "Just let me know when it's time."

As Ruth exited the room, I closed my eyes, the silence amplifying the storm raging within me. Dealing with the interior designer could wait. Right now, I needed a way to quell the relentless anger that threatened to consume me.

The rest of the morning crawled by in a blur of paperwork and forced cheer. Just as I was about to call it a day and drown my frustrations in a stiff drink, my phone buzzed on the desk. A glance at the screen revealed a call from Christian.

A flicker of irritation shot through me. Today of all days, I was not in the mood for him. With a deep breath, I answered the call. "Christian," I growled, the remnants of my earlier frustration coloring my voice.

"Alex," he replied, his tone cool and detached. "Just giving you a heads-up."

"A heads-up about what?" My gut clenched, a premonition of bad news sending a jolt through me.

"About Daniel," He said, a hint of amusement creeping into his voice. "He's getting out."

The words slammed into me like a physical blow. I shot up from my chair, knocking it over in the process. "What? How is he getting out?" My voice rose an octave, laced with disbelief and a fury that burned hot in my chest.

Christian's amusement morphed into a sigh of exasperation. "By stepping out of jail, Alex. Seems his lawyers managed to find some technicality, some loophole in the charges. He's walking free."

I ground my teeth together, the sound grating in my ear. "This can't be happening," I snarled. "I thought... I thought we had him locked up for good."

"Apparently not," He replied, his voice devoid of sympathy. "Look, I just wanted to let you know. Not exactly breaking news, but figured you should hear it from me."

"I don't need your damn breadcrumbs, Christian," I roared, my frustration boiling over. "I'm not in the mood for your attitude today!"

A tense silence followed, heavy with unspoken tension. Finally, Christian spoke, his voice laced with a dangerous edge. "Neither am 1, Alex. I just called to deliver a message, not to be your personal punching bag."

"Message received, loud and clear," I spat back, my anger mirroring his own."

"Mistake? He damn near destroyed everything I built!" I bellowed, every word laced, "I pay you good money to just let him work."

"Let him?" Christian's voice crackled with disbelief. "Alex, I did what you asked me to. Daniel Stone was a thorn at your side. I had him removed for you. He was investigated, his company fell and he went to jail. All of that, I did," He ground out, "The courts made their decision. There's nothing I can do."

"There's always something you can do, Christian," I shot back, fueled by a potent amount of anger, "That's why you are you. That's

11:37 Fri, 21 Jun i Chapter 44

what you do. You have connections, influence. I will not have him work free!"

"And what, exactly, do you suggest I do?" Christian challenged, his voice laced with a dangerous calm.

"I don't care what you do!" I roared, my control slipping further away. "Just stop him! Don't let him get away with this!"

The silence on the other end of the line was deafening. Finally, Christian spoke, "Listen," he said, his voice laced with a weary resignation "I'm tired of going around in circles with you, Alex. Believe me, I tried. I looked for loopholes, for ways to keep him locked up. But Daniel's a powerful man, with resources we underestimated.

A bitter laugh escaped my lips. "Powerful? I f*cking know that but that simply sounds like a convenient excuse. Perhaps this is you trying to get back at me for threatening you."

A dangerous edge crept into Christian's voice. "Don't make this about me, Alex. Daniel's a force to be m reckoned with, and pretending with, otherwise won't change that." He paused for a beat, then added in a low grow!, "I have said what I had to. If you want to keep him in, then do it yourself, I am done with this conversation. And never, ever threaten me again."

Before I could retort, the line went dead. I stared at the phone in my hand, the silence on the other end a physical weight pressing down on me. With a roar of frustration, I flung the phone across the room, the plastic clattering against the wall before landing with a dull thud on the floor.

My breath came in ragged gasps, the anger threatening to consume me. I couldn't stay in this office another minute. I needed to get out, to clear my head.

Let my wolf out. Grabbing my keys, I stormed out of my office, the slam of the door echoing through the empty hallway.

As I rounded the corner, I nearly collided with Ruth who jumped back in surprise.

"Mr. Thorne," she stammered, her eyes wide with alarm. "I was just coming to get you. The interior designer... She's here for your two o'clock appointment." "Reschedule it!" I barked, the words ripping out of me before I could stop them. "I don't have time for this right now."

The frustration in my voice hung heavy in the air, and I saw a flicker of hurt flash across Ruth's face. Before I could apologize, however, a cool, composed voice interjected.

"I'm afraid I can't," the voice said, smooth and professional. My gaze snapped up to find myself face-to-face with an elegant woman in a sharply tailored pantsuit.

She exuded an aura of quiet competence, but it wasn't her that sent a jolt through me.

It was the woman standing beside her.

Our eyes met, and my wolf growled in my head, a sound that only her could stir.

Amaya was here.