로그인Ella Navarro had one plan: become a mother on her own terms. No partner, no complications, no one to let her down. After years of heartbreak and a betrayal she never saw coming, she walked into a fertility clinic alone and chose the cleanest, most controlled version of a fresh start possible. She got Dominic Sinclair's DNA instead. Cold, powerful, and campaigning to become Alpha King of the North American wolf packs, Dominic is the last man on earth Ella would have chosen. He is also, apparently, the father of her unborn child. When the clinic's devastating mix-up comes to light, two people from completely different worlds are forced into each other's lives with nothing in common except the baby growing between them. Ella expects a legal battle. She gets something far more complicated. Because Dominic can't stop watching her like she's something he wasn't prepared for. And Ella can't stop noticing that behind all that money and control is a man still bleeding from a wound he never talks about. She didn't come here to fall for anyone. But some things, it turns out, were never hers to control. A dark, slow-burn werewolf romance about the wreckage we build lives from.
더 보기I don't sleep. I couldn't.I try. I lie in the dark with my phone face-down on the nightstand and I tried breathing the way they teach you to in the stress management workshop the hospital makes all ER staff attend every two years. In for four, hold for four, out for four. It works on anxious patients. It's doing almost nothing for me tonight.At one-fifteen I pick up the phone and look at the photograph again.It's good quality for a long-distance shot. Whoever took it knew what they were doing, knew what angle to use, knew exactly when to press the button. Dominic's hand on my back. My face turned slightly toward his. We look, in this photograph, like two people who chose to be standing exactly where they're standing.We look, I realize, completely convincing.Which means this photograph could either protect us or destroy us depending entirely on who is holding it and what they want.I screenshot it and save it separately. Then I look at the number again.Chicago area code. No name
The room doesn't change.People are still talking, still clinking glasses, still doing all the things people do at expensive dinners. Nobody stops. Nobody looks over. The moment is completely invisible to everyone in that room except the three of us.But something shifts.Dominic goes from still to something I don't have a word for yet. Not angry. Beyond angry. The kind of thing that happens before anger, underneath it, the place anger comes from. I feel it more than I see it, like a change in temperature beside me.I put my hand on his arm.Not because I planned to. Because it was instinct, the same instinct that makes me step between a frightened patient and a loud orderly before anything can escalate. I feel the muscle under my palm and it is locked tight as stone.I look at Aldric Vane and I smile."I'm Ella Navarro," I say. "And you are?"He blinks. He must have expected something else. Confusion maybe, or discomfort, or the flustered retreat of someone who's been caught off guar
I call Petra at seven the next morning.She picks up on the first ring, which means she was already awake, which means she already knows something. Petra has a network of information that operates faster than any news outlet and twice as accurately."The gossip blog," she says, before I open my mouth."You saw it.""Gio sent it to me at midnight. Are you okay?""I'm fine. I need your honest opinion about something."I walk her through option two. The controlled narrative. The public appearances. The careful, managed version of a situation that is anything but careful or managed. Petra listens without interrupting, which is how I know she's taking it seriously."Do you trust him?" she asks when I finish."I don't know him well enough to trust him.""That's not a no."I look out my kitchen window quietly. The street is quiet. The lock on my building's front door, I noticed this morning, has already been replaced. New hardware, clean installation, done sometime between midnight and six a
His building is not what I expected.I expected glass and steel and a lobby designed to make ordinary people feel small. I got that part right. What I didn't expect was how fast the elevator moves, or the way the security guard at the front desk knew my name before I said it, or the fact that at eleven-fifteen on a Tuesday night there are still four people working in the open office on the thirty-eighth floor when I step out of the elevator.Dominic Sinclair's world doesn't sleep. I file that away.His assistant, a composed man named Holt who is not the same Gerald Holt who called me, leads me to a conference room and offers me water and tea with the practiced calm of someone who regularly manages crises at midnight. I take the water. I sit down. I wait while taking in my surroundings. Dominic walks in three minutes later.He's in a different suit than this morning, which means he either changed or he never went home, and looking at the set of his shoulders I'm guessing the second on






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