15. SIX O'CLOCK SHARP

Blackwood Corporation was buzzing with excitement. The whole building felt unusually alive.

Voices of employees overlapping, barely focused on any work because tonight was the annual Blackwood Charity Gala—the biggest corporate event of the year.

Normally, Monday mornings were filled with quiet determination and the rhythmic tapping of keyboards. Today, however, conversations floated through every department as employees abandoned their usual composure for barely contained excitement.

Groups gathered around coffee machines discussing expensive dresses, matching tuxedos, plus ones, celebrity guests, and rumors that influential investors from overseas would attend.

“The guest list this year is insane.”

“I heard many big people will be coming from abroad.”

“My cousin says there’ll be representatives from at least all our rival companies this year.”

“I just hope the food is better than last year’s.”

Selene arrived carrying her usual coffee, amused by everyone’s excitement. It was the first company gala she would be attending.

She preferred to sit at home and watch the highlights from news channels on the T.V.

Now, she was the assistant to the CEO, there was no other choice. She had to go. Though she still couldn’t understand what all the excitement was all about.

The Marketing Department was no different.

Selene couldn’t help smiling as she walked past them with a paper cup of coffee in one hand and her tablet in the other.

“You people act like you’re attending the Oscars,” she teased.

One of her former colleagues laughed.

“For us, this basically is the Oscars.”

Selene chuckled, shook her head, and escaped before they could drag her into another discussion that could delay her.

To her, today was still a workday. The gala was still hours away, which meant there was plenty to accomplish before then.

To everyone else, it was the biggest night of the year.

The elevator doors slid open onto the Executive Floor. As always, the atmosphere was different up here. The cheerful chatter from downstairs had disappeared. Everyone here moved with quiet efficiency.

Selene took one steadying breath before walking toward her desk.

Even with the event coming up, Selene’s workload did not reduce.

Perks of being the CEO’s assistant, Nyx had said.

Today's checklist filled nearly two pages.

Review seating assignments.

Finalize media access.

Confirm international guest arrivals.

Approve catering adjustments.

Print revised speech notes.

Reschedule tomorrow morning's board briefing.

Coordinate security schedules.

“So much for a quiet day.” She let out a small sigh. Without wasting another second, she got to work.

Nearly an hour later, she was reviewing the revised speech notes for the last time when her boss arrived. Alaric entered exactly on schedule wearing a navy blue suit with his tie perfectly straightened.

“Good morning, Mr. Blackwood,” Selene greeted. He replied with a brief nod.

“Good morning.”

She handed him the day’s itinerary before he reached his office door.

“I moved your meeting with the Zurich investors to tomorrow afternoon. Their flight has been delayed because of weather.”

He glanced at the schedule.

“Good.”

“The revised speech is on your desk. Security approved the updated guest list twenty minutes ago, and Catering confirmed the dietary requests for the foreign delegates.”

Another nod.

“The board requested an additional briefing before the gala.”

“I’ve already declined on your behalf.”

That finally made him pause.

“You declined?”

“They wanted forty-five minutes.”

“Yes.”

“You only had twenty-eight available.”

She pointed to his schedule.

“If you’d accepted, you would’ve missed your interview with Global Business Weekly.”

A brief silence followed.

Then…

“Good decision.”

Three simple words. From anyone else, they would’ve sounded ordinary. But from Alaric Blackwood, they were more than just words.

The office door closed behind him. Inside, Alaric set his folder on the desk. A thought crossed his mind almost involuntarily.

She’s beginning to anticipate problems before I see them. That wasn’t easy. Only a few people could.

Outside, Selene returned to her work, completely unaware that she had just earned another measure of the CEO’s trust.

Around noon, Alaric called a brief staff meeting with the staff heads. He thanked everyone for their hard work in preparing for the event, his voice even and unhurried, the way it always was whenever he was being serious.

"Because the gala begins early this evening," he said, "you're all dismissed several hours ahead of schedule. Go get ready."

Cheers rippled through the office. Within seconds, conversation splintered into a dozen directions—the conversations that had been placed on hold resumed, ranging from who was riding with whom to what everyone planned to wear.  Selene said nothing. She simply gathered her things, quiet in the middle of the noise, the way she always was when everyone else was loud enough to fill the room without her.

She was almost at the door when Alaric's voice stopped her.

"Be ready by six."

She turned. He hadn't even looked up from the folder in his hands. "Yes, Mr. Blackwood."

He added it almost like an afterthought, already turning back toward his office. "I'll pick you up."

The office fell silent. Not dramatically — just a small, collective pause, the kind that happens when everyone hears something they weren't supposed to and pretends they didn't.

Several coworkers exchanged glances over their monitors. Selene hesitated, feeling every pair of eyes she couldn't quite see.

"...You don't have to, sir," she said quietly, half to him, half to the room.

"I know."

Then he walked away, leaving the words to settle over the office like something too heavy to pick back up right away.

Selene returned to her neighborhood carrying a garment bag over one arm, the fabric catching the late afternoon light. Hattie was already waiting on the porch, arms crossed, trying and failing to look like she hadn't been watching the street for the past fifteen minutes.

The two of them spent the afternoon together the way they always did before anything important — teasing each other, losing track of time, the small kitchen filling with the smell of something warm on the stove even though no one was hungry yet.

Hattie fussed over every tiny detail. She fixed a loose strand of Selene's hair for the third time, straightened a necklace that didn't need straightening, smoothed wrinkles from the dress that weren't really there. Somewhere between the jokes, her hands slowed, and her eyes grew softer than she meant them to.

"You've always been beautiful, sweetheart," she said quietly, cupping both sides of Selene's face. "Tonight, I just hope you finally see what I've always said."

Selene hugged her, tighter than usual, though neither of them could have said exactly why. It was only a hug — the kind they'd shared a hundred times before — but neither of them realized yet how precious a moment like this one would become.

At exactly six o’clock, a sleek black sedan turned onto a narrow street.

Children stopped their game of football mid-kick, ball rolling forgotten into the gutter. Neighbors drifted to their windows one by one, curtains twitching.

Hattie laughed under her breath. "Well. Whoever that is certainly isn't here to sightsee."

Selene felt her face go warm.

Alaric stepped out in a perfectly tailored black tuxedo, the kind that looked like it had been made for exactly this moment and no other. He closed the car door himself instead of waiting for his driver, and crossed the street toward the house — not hurried, not arrogant, simply respectful, as though the modest little house deserved exactly as much care as the one he'd left behind.

Instead of waiting outside, Alaric accepted Hattie's invitation to step in for a moment. The house was modest — old furniture polished with obvious, patient care, the old worn rug sitting on the floor, the faint smell of something home-cooked still lingering in the air from earlier. A row of medicine sat neatly arranged beside Hattie's favorite chair, labels turned carefully outward.

Nothing luxurious. Everything simple.

Alaric took it all in without a word, his eyes moving slowly over each photograph, each worn armrest. It explained something he hadn't quite understood about Selene before — why she never chased status, why kindness always seemed to matter more to her than anything with a price tag attached.

"Thank you for looking after her at work," Hattie said, settling into her chair with a small, satisfied sigh.

"She makes my work easier," he replied simply, without thinking twice, as though it were only a fact and not a compliment at all.

Selene, carrying a tray of tea toward them, nearly dropped it. It was the closest thing to a compliment he had ever given her, and she wasn't at all sure what to do with the way it settled somewhere within her chest.

As Alaric reached for his teacup, Hattie's smile faltered — just for a heartbeat. Something about him felt strange. Not dangerous. Not frightening. Just... strange, in a way she couldn't place, like an old memory standing just out of reach, refusing to step into the light.

For a moment the room seemed quieter than it should have been. She studied him without meaning to, her gaze lingering a beat too long. When his eyes met hers, the feeling vanished as quickly as it came, and she smiled again before he could notice anything wrong.

"Forgive me," she said lightly, waving a hand. "These old eyes wander more than they should."

But after he looked away, she kept wondering. What exactly was that strange feeling?

She said nothing — not to Selene, not to Alaric. She told herself it was simply her old age playing tricks on her, the kind of thing that happened more and more these days. But long after the sedan had pulled away, the feeling refused to let her go.

Selene excused herself to finish getting ready. Alaric waited in the living room, patient, hands folded in front of him, the ticking of an old clock on the wall the only sound between them.

Then — footsteps.

She came down the stairs slowly, elegant without trying too hard. The dress didn't transform her; it simply revealed the quiet confidence that had always been there, hidden beneath her ordinary routines, her flats, her hurried mornings running his coffee up two flights of stairs.

For the first time, Alaric forgot what he meant to say. Only for a second. His eyes lingered for a bit too long. Then his composure returned, smooth as ever, and he offered his hand.

"Shall we?"

Selene smiled, sliding her hand into his.

Hattie watched them go from the doorway, a warm smile spreading across her face as the sedan pulled away — though somewhere underneath it, that strange, unfamiliar feeling still lingered, refusing to be explained away, refusing to be forgotten.

The car disappeared into the evening.

Ahead of them, the Blackwood Charity Gala waited, glittering and entirely unaware of what it was about to set in motion. Neither Selene nor Alaric could know that by the end of the night, the first invisible threads connecting her to the hidden world of werewolves would begin, quietly and irreversibly, to tighten around them both.