LOGINEstela Bridge is a reserved, perfectionist young woman. Fresh out of university, she lands her first job as a sales manager at the prestigious luxury car company “Plus One.” There, she must work directly with the CEO, Sam Hill—a dangerously sexy 28-year-old notorious for his charm… and hiding a dark secret: he’s a werewolf, a beta fighting to claim the alpha title. After a curse binds her fate to his, Estela is thrust into his world—a realm of shadows, power, passion, and forbidden desire. Mark, the reigning alpha, wants her as well. And though Estela’s heart wavers at times, deep down she knows who it truly belongs to. Yet Estela carries a terrifying secret of her own… one she hasn’t discovered yet. And when it awakens, no one will be ready. Includes explicit spicy scenes.
View MoreI feel my breath slipping away. Every gasp of air rips through my lungs, as if something invisible slices it apart before it can reach me.
I open my eyes. Sweat clings to my skin like a second layer, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t slow my racing heartbeat.
Ever since I turned twenty-two, those recurring nightmares have tormented me—every single full moon.
My father, far too reserved since my mother vanished from our lives, gives me a crooked smile every time I try to explain the strange coincidence between my night terrors and the lunar calendar.
He says I’m exaggerating.
That it’s just stress.
I look away from the fractured sky, where a blackened moon is embedded like an unblinking eye in the middle of the night. From the shadows, a jagged, toothy grin emerges on a blurred face—a face that seems to root itself into pointed ears that stretch and elongate, melting into a savage snout… until it becomes a beast that should not exist. A presence that makes me shiver before I can even comprehend it.
So I get ready quickly, though just thinking about it sends chills down my spine.
I shake my head and force myself to get up.
There’s no room for fear today.
Today is my first day of work at Más Uno, a renowned company dedicated to selling luxury cars.
I pull my blonde hair into a flawless bun and slip into my platinum-blue skirt, smoothing it down until it reaches my knees. My white blouse is pristine.
Today, I represent the Bridge name, and making it shine after graduating from college is the most exciting thing in my life right now.
I head downstairs and find only a blurred address scribbled on a note stuck to the refrigerator door.
It will have to be enough.
Outside, the morning is bright and sunny. Perfect. Exactly as I imagined it.
I walk toward the avenue to catch a taxi when suddenly the sun disappears. The sky turns gray, and a rich, intoxicating scent of rain tickles my nose.
The first drops fall without warning, soaking my hair and staining my blouse.
Then I see it.
A black car—luxurious, excessive. A Ferrari, I’d dare to guess. It slows right in front of me, and for a second, I think it’s going to stop.
Maybe hitchhiking is a better idea than waiting for a cab.
I step toward the street—and then it accelerates.
The tire sinks into a puddle, and a mix of water and mud explodes straight at me, ruining my immaculate skirt.
“Damn idiot! Are you blind or what?” I shout, furious, trying to see the jerk hiding behind the tinted window.
The window rolls down slowly. Shamelessly.
A long arm appears first. The sleeve of a black suit fits it perfectly, revealing a small but impossible-to-ignore tattoo on his wrist: a Roman numeral five.
He flips me off.
“What the hell…?” I mutter, crossing my arms as I stare at the disaster my clothes have become.
The car speeds away and vanishes.
A taxi pulls up right then. The driver looks me up and down, rolls his eyes at my appearance, and says nothing as I get in.
I sink into the seat and, with some effort, tell him where I’m going, reading the soaked note from inside my purse.
I roll my eyes and mentally curse the Ferrari asshole.
Nothing can fix this. The towel I brought with me only makes the stains worse.
With my hair in chaos and my cheeks burning with anger, I step out in front of a massive, stunning building.
A kind man welcomes me and points me in the right direction.
The elevator is just as refined as the exterior architecture. When the doors open, a long hallway stretches out before me.
A group of people listens attentively as Mr. Dante, the manager, delivers the morning welcome.
Every single pair of eyes turns to me, judging me down to my soul.
I straighten with practiced ease, slipping into the group so naturally it looks like I’ve been there all along.
“All right… now I’d like to introduce Mr. Hill, Deputy General Manager. His father, the owner of the company, will be joining us later,” Dante announces, locking his gaze on me.
The hallway falls silent.
A tall man steps forward. Dark hair. Sharp features. His dark shirt stretches tightly across powerful muscles, his pale skin contrasting with the hardness of his face.
There’s something about him—too intense. The light itself seems to follow him, reflecting something almost supernatural.
Every movement, every breath, suggests restrained danger.
“Good morning,” he says. “Welcome to our new hires. This afternoon, Dante will brief you on the upcoming financial meeting.”
His voice is deep. Too deep.
It vibrates straight through my chest.
My father warned me I’d be working directly with the deputy manager—handling his sales operations.
So I wait.
But then he walks toward me.
My heart races. My palms sweat. Beneath his sleeve, the Roman numeral five appears again.
The same five.
That can’t be possible.
“Well… if it isn’t Mr. Bridge’s daughter,” he says. “Estela, right?” “Yes… sir,” I reply without meeting his gaze. “Come with me.”
I follow him. His back is broad, powerful. His knuckles still bear traces of dried blood. He smells like expensive cologne… and something sweeter, thicker—maple honey.
Every movement seems calculated before it happens… like a predator.
For a brief moment, his gaze turns strangely sharp, almost instinctive, as if he could read my thoughts before I even have them.
Something wild, barely contained, runs through every one of his movements, as if he’s fighting to stay in control.
When he opens the office door, a massive desk dominates the room. Papers are neatly arranged, blue curtains cover the window, and to the side sits a smaller desk.
For a second, something about him feels… feral. Barely restrained. Barely human.
“This is your place, Estela. Though you should clean yourself up first,” he orders, wearing a crooked smile. There’s a small cut beneath his lower lip.
I look at him with the urge to erase him from existence.
“Of course… some idiot ruined my clothes this morning,” I mutter sarcastically, arching an eyebrow.
His hazel eyes roam over my body without shame. An inexplicable heat burns in my stomach.
His gaze pulls me in and terrifies me at the same time… something primitive hides behind it.
He nods.
“Natalie will give you your first assignment. The report is due by noon.”
As if she’d been waiting behind the door, a tall woman sways into the room. Her black hair falls to her waist, and her green eyes drip with contempt.
Her skirt is shorter than her manners.
She drops the papers on the desk and leaves. Before exiting, she tries to catch Sam’s attention… but his gaze is already occupied.
On me.
“Are you hot?” he asks suddenly.
I blush.
“What? I—I…” I stammer, watching his smile curve into something dangerous.
And for some reason, I know that nothing in my life will ever be under control again.
I feel like prey about to be devoured. Even from a distance, I can sense him-following me, hunting me-his hands just waiting to end my life as if nothing else mattered.I lean back against the trunk of a tree, hoping for something- a sign, an escape, a solution. I lift my gaze, and all I see are the subtle, dry whispers of the wind slipping through the leaves. Above them, the sky looks smooth, open, so alive it feels like it's breathing."Come with me," a soft voice calls from behind, pulling me out of my thoughts."Who are you?" I ask, lowering my eyes.Suddenly, a very pale woman appears, her long blonde hair as wild and curled as sea foam."There's a way out. Come," she murmurs, extending her hand.I have no other choice, so I obey. She looks far too healthy to be lost, and her clothes are pristine-much too perfect for someone living in the middle of nowhere. Everything about her is strange.We leave the clearing and step into some dry underbrush. We pass close to a river, and in t
"We're leaving now, Estela!" Sam shouts, so furious it feels like the windowpanes themselves might tremble."Shhh, did you hear that? If you don't take the deal, well... you'll see a new she-wolf behind bars.""Hunters can't interfere on wolf territory. It's part of the treaty. How dare you?" Sam growls, stopping abruptly at the door. He clearly hates the idea, but he knows he has to hear it."What's the deal?" he finally asks."Come here. Dan will explain," James mutters, a wrinkled piece of paper crushed between his fingers.Sam snatches it from his hand, gives him a murderous glare, and storms off-about as angry as a man can be without combusting.I follow him without saying a word, silent, head down, more anxious than before.We get into the car as if the entire world had just vanished. Sam unfolds the paper with pure contempt, scans it, frowns deeply, and tosses it out the window.He spins the wheel twice, curses sharply, and parks behind a small trash container."It's over there
"G-good afternoon, I...," I stutter like an idiot, intimidated by her black briefcase."Sam, did you bring the documents?" she asks, turning sharply toward him.Sam nods, hurries to the table, and indeed brings the folder. Apparently he had been making those mysterious calls, and I have no idea when he took the documents from Liam."Alright, give me until tomorrow. I'll call you both," Mónica smiles, standing with the documents still in hand.She arrived in a rush, without a pause, and just as quickly disappeared without another word. I sit there, distracted, watching her leave so fast, abandoning us with doubts in our hearts and confusion in our souls."Don't worry, Tela-she's like that. Mónica is a bit absent-minded and always in a hurry, but she's the best. If anyone can help us, it's her," Sam says, his sweet and calm tone easing my heart instantly."Let's have lunch, Tela. This afternoon we're going somewhere," Sam says, walking to the kitchen as he rolls up his sleeves."I'm not
My heart races as I wait for her answer. My hands are sweating, and the impatience makes me nauseous."He doesn't exist, Sam," Natali blurts out, just like that."I'm not pregnant. I'm really sorry I lied," she adds through sobs."I know, Natali. I was always careful, remember?" Sam says, his voice so loud it sounds like it's tearing his throat apart.I hear more murmuring, then a dark silence, followed by short footsteps and a strong hand pushing the door.It almost hits me, but luckily I'm faster, already sitting at the computer working as I should."Like I told you! She's not even pregnant," Sam says, not looking at me, but his voice radiates peace and relief."I'm glad, Sam," I tell him, proud.My soul settles, and a sudden calm washes over me. Then desperate knocks crash against the door."Estela Bridge, come with me!" an angry voice orders as the door swings open."What's going on, Liam?" Sam asks, peeking from behind the computer screen.Liam is the company's Chief Financial Of
He takes a moment to put on protection, then lets his hand trail slowly between my thighs with deliberate care. The roughness of his fingertips makes my breathing turn unsteady, and my mind sinks completely into the world of warmth and desire he creates around me. When he finally enters me, he does
The arrival at the city's main hospital is quick and unsettling. Sam keeps his lips sealed and doesn't say a single word. He walks ahead of me through endless hallways crowded with nurses, sick patients, and an overwhelming stench of anesthesia.From a snow-white door, Natali appears. Her hair is a
"Sam, did you find us?" Mark stammers, clearing his throat."What the hell is going on?" Sam asks, his tone hardening as he stares straight at me.I avoid his words, lowering my gaze. I'm angry enough not to look at him-but ashamed enough that I can't even answer."I said, what's going on? ... Are
"I… I don’t know Mark, I don’t feel up to…""Oh no!...I’m not in a hurry, you know?, I love spaghetti, sometimes I like to savor them more, without rush, very slowly, but when I take them out of the oven they’re boiling, do you think I can enjoy them like that?"—Mark interrupts me in a sarcastic to


















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