Series: Werewolves of Wall Street Series by Renee Rose
Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 59360 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59360 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
“So you’ll be going to the Mating Games in a few days?” someone shouts from the back of the room. There are murmurs and rustling as wolves turn to see who shouted out of turn.
I recognize that voice. It’s Billy, near the exits. The crowd parts to let him through. I haven’t seen him for a while–my wolf still wants to kill him for thinking Madi was a traitor. He stares up at the stage with haunted eyes.
Is he challenging my dominance? Or is he teeing up questions for me to help me save face?
Either way, I have to answer him.
Fuck. I grit my teeth.
“Yes. Now that we’ve uncovered the Adalwulf plot and secured our dominant position in business, mating is my top priority.” My wolf is restless, hating the way I’m doing this. He thinks I’m betraying Madi. But I’m just trying to keep her–and everyone I love–safe. “As soon as I wrap up a few things here, I’ll fly to the Swedish Pack Games along with my top wolves. We’ll see if there are any hearts that Mr. Jordan has yet to break.” Jake takes the jibe with a grin and a shrug.
“Any other questions?”
“Yes.” A burly wolf in the middle of the tenth row stands up. “I challenge you for Alpha.”
The venue explodes. There are shouts of anger. Of encouragement. I look to Eagle. He’s nodding slightly.
The challenger clambers past other wolves in his row, headed toward me.
“That wasn’t a question,” I chide. “But I accept your challenge.” I knew I wouldn’t get out of here without a fight.
Down on the floor, Nickel and Eagle wave wolves back to create a space for us to face off. I step off the podium, shrug off my suit jacket, and hand it to Vance. Even without the microphone, my voice carries to the back of the room. “Let’s do this.”
Chapter Two
Madi
I pace Brick’s luxury high-rise. It’s been over an hour since he left, but I’m still trembling. Whether it’s from anger or fear, I can’t be sure.
I’m essentially a prisoner right now. A mistress locked in a tower.
Brick’s dirty little secret.
It makes me want to puke.
I’ve started to call Aubrey three times and then stopped. What can I tell her that would make sense? My Big Bad Boss, who for two short days I considered my boyfriend, thinks I’m in danger and is keeping me under lock and key?
That wouldn’t make sense without the part I can’t tell anyone–that the billionaire boss is also a werewolf. Ha–there are Werewolves of Wall Street. Wish I could share that joke with Aubrey.
For the first time in my life, a sense of helplessness creeps in. I’ve always been driven. I’ve relied on my brains to get me out of any and every dilemma. To engineer my way into my desired positions and perform at top level.
But, as Brick said–this isn’t my world.
I don’t even know where to start when there are two burly wolves outside the door keeping me prisoner. It would be easier if I weren’t in love. If I hadn’t tasted the sweetness of being loved and doted on by Brick. Watching my powerful, hot boss-hole melt into someone real, someone who shows me his vulnerabilities and promises me forever. It would be easier if I didn’t care about protecting him and what’s important to him.
But all of those things are true.
I’ve been avoiding that uncomfortable truth for a few months, but after nearly losing Brick to moon madness, I can’t deny what he means to me. And now that he’s marked me, he’s admitted what I mean to him.
Except no. He hasn’t. Or at least he’s admitted it to me, but he doesn’t want his pack to know.
Just like my asshole sperm donor refused to acknowledge me or stay with my mom after she got pregnant because she didn’t fit into the high society circle of the Harrington’s.
I hate him for that.
A knock sounds at the door, startling me out of my thoughts. No matter–my brain wasn’t on a path to solving anything today.
I draw in a measured breath and exhale.
What could this be? One of the henchmen asking to use the bathroom? I can’t imagine they’d let anyone through. As I approach the door, I hear the lock click open.
“Ms. Evans?” A deep voice speaks on the other side. “Mr. Blackthroat sent this visitor.”
For one brief moment, my heart leaps, thinking it will be Aubrey or my mom. I’ve only been locked up for a few hours, but I already feel so cut-off and isolated. It’s like I’ve been gone for an eternity instead of a couple of days.
But when I pull the door open, I find a gorgeous, middle-aged woman the size of a twig, dressed like she’s on a Paris runway. Beside her are three racks of clothing.