LOGINChapter 32Jordan POVThe problem with a room full of angry wolves was that nobody ever left quietly.The meeting had ended twenty minutes ago, yet I could still hear raised voices coming from the parking lot. Kane was attempting to restore order, Tessa was undoubtedly congratulating herself somewhere, and Maddox was being escorted to his court-approved residence by a man whose job description had recently expanded to include babysitting an Alpha.I almost felt sorry for Kane.Almost.I stood near the conference hall's rear entrance, scrolling through the notes I'd taken during the meeting. Three nights until a potential formal leadership challenge. Three nights for Tessa to gather support, pressure witnesses, and convince frightened wolves that replacing Maddox would somehow make their legal problems disappear.It was an impressive amount of stupidity to accomplish in seventy-two hours.I was halfway through composing a message to Roger when the exit door opened.Rowan stepped inside
Chapter 31Jordan POVThe leadership meeting was not supposed to look like a trial.Naturally, it looked like a trial.Not officially. There was no judge, no clerk, no bailiff, and no one had asked me to rise, which I always appreciated. But the old conference hall Kane rented off Mercer property had the same uncomfortable arrangement: people divided into sides, every face guarded, and one man standing at the front with too many people waiting to see if he would bleed.Maddox stood near the windows, away from the head of the table.That was the first thing I noticed.Not because he lacked authority. Maddox could stand in a janitor’s closet and people would still arrange themselves around him like furniture with instincts. But he had deliberately avoided the obvious seat of power. The chair at the head of the table remained empty.Smart.Dangerous, but smart.If he sat there, Tessa could accuse him of clinging to control while under court restriction. If he refused to appear, she could
Chapter 30Jordan POVThe thing about ethics crises is that they never arrive wearing a name tag.They slide in sideways.A leaked clause. A headline. A prosecutor with perfect hair and no shame. Suddenly, the cleanest explanation in the world sounds guilty because someone cut out the middle and left the public holding a sentence with no context.I sat in my office with the leaked residency clause glowing on my laptop screen and felt the rare, unpleasant sensation of wanting to throw something heavy through something expensive.Preferably Silvia Smith’s window.Instead, I adjusted my blazer, took a sip of coffee that had gone cold thirty minutes ago, and reminded myself that assault charges looked tacky on defense counsel.The screenshot had already been posted by two local accounts and one legal gossip page that had the journalistic integrity of a raccoon in a dumpster.Defense Attorney Required to Live on Mercer Property During Murder Case?Cute little question mark at the end.The
Chapter 29Jordan POVBy three in the afternoon, the internet had decided Maddox Mercer was running a cult.Not a criminal enterprise.Not a private security company with terrible public relations and worse timing.A cult.Because apparently when people ran out of legal vocabulary, they sprinted straight to cable-news hysteria and brought snacks.I found the article because Roger texted it to me with no greeting, no context, and one very unhelpful sentence:Don’t throw your phone.Naturally, I opened it immediately.The headline sat at the top of the screen in bold black letters designed to raise blood pressure and lower intelligence.INSIDE THE MERCER HOUSE: SOURCES CLAIM CULT-LIKE CONTROL ON PRIVATE LANDI stared at it for five full seconds.Then I said, to my empty office, “Oh, lovely. We’re doing vocabulary crimes today.”The article was short, sloppy, and dangerous.That was the worst combination.Long articles gave people room to think. Short articles gave them something to repe
Chapter 28Maddox POVThe courthouse doors opened, and every camera turned toward me.I had walked through gunfire quieter than that hallway.Reporters pressed behind the barricades, shouting my name, Jordan’s name, the company’s name. Questions came fast and useless, designed less to collect answers and more to catch a reaction.“Mr. Mercer, did you intimidate witnesses?”“Are you hiding evidence on your property?”“Is Mercer Security a criminal enterprise?”“Ms. Carter, are you romantically involved with your client?”That last one made my wolf slam hard against my control.Not because the question was clever.Because it was directed at her.Jordan didn’t flinch.She walked at my left side with her binder tucked against her ribs, chin lifted, expression clean and professional. She looked like she could cross-examine God and politely object to the weather afterward. Nothing in her face showed what the hearing had cost her.But I could feel it.The bond was no longer quiet.It pulled
Book Two- The Defense of WolvesAct II- Indictment and CoupChapter 27Jordan POVThe courtroom was colder than it needed to be, which is how I knew Silvia Smith expected to win.Not because temperature affects outcomes—if it did, half the bench would be staffed by Florida retirees—but because prosecutors who plan to paint you as dangerous love anything that makes people tuck their hands under their arms and look nervous.Nervous people vote for cages.I stood at counsel table with my binder open, my bail packet stacked neatly beside it, and my face set to calm. Not “I’m fine” calm. “I will bury you with procedure” calm.My body did not match my face.Because Maddox wasn’t in the room yet, and the longer I waited, the more that low, gnawing ache pressed under my sternum. Like my chest was too tight for my lungs. Like something inside me kept reaching out and finding nothing.I told myself it was adrenaline. Stress. Lack of sleep. Coffee. The fact that a prosecutor had filed the word R
Chapter 15Jordan POVMy case board looked like a conspiracy wall built by a woman who’d lost access to sunshine and normal friendships.Strings, sticky notes, printouts, timelines. The service road turnout circled in red. Kline’s autopsy request highlighted like Silvia would magically produce it f
Chapter 70Jordan POVSilvia leaves like she’s done me a favor.The door shuts behind her team, tires crunch the drive, and the house exhales—too loud, too fast, like everyone’s been holding their breath for hours and doesn’t know what to do with oxygen anymore.The common room doesn’t erupt into ch
Chapter 18Jordan POV Elaina’s clinic smelled like rubbing alcohol and expensive soap—clean in a way that wasn’t comforting so much as it was deliberate. Like whoever ran this place believed germs were a moral failing.I stood just inside the doorway, hands in my coat pockets, trying not to look l
Chapter 7Jordan POVI left my office with one suitcase, one laptop bag, and the kind of expression that told the other tenants on my floor, Don’t ask me anything unless you want to be assigned homework.Nina tried anyway.She leaned in my doorway with her arms crossed, watching me zip the suitcase







