Se connecterJasmine’s POV The next day, Tristan Winthrop introduced himself to me in the hallway with the flat professional courtesy smile of a man who had done this numerous times. I had just stepped out of the orientation room with the rest of the new hires when he appeared at the end of the corridor. The group parted without being told. He moved through them like the building itself made space, his eyes swept once across the small crowd before settling on me. “Jasmine Trivett,” he said. His voice carried the kind of quiet authority that didn’t need volume. “Tristan Winthrop. CEO.” He extended his hand. I took it. His fingers closed around mine exactly long enough to be sure this wasn’t some kind of dream. His face gave me the CEO, but when his grip settled, his entire body went rigid for one controlled half-second. His eyes dropped to our joined hands, then they snapped back to my face. I caught the look on his face before it disappeared. I released his hand quickly and stepped back,
Jasmine’s POV I kept my jaw set as I moved through orientation. The Apex Dynamics building swallowed people whole. With high ceilings, marble floors that echoed every footstep, and glass walls that let you see straight through departments like fish in tanks. I was just paying proper attention to the details in the building, I had too much on my mind thd previous day. The building was designed to intimidate. I refused to let it show on my face though. I had walked into rooms built to make women like me feel small before, rooms like the loan shark offices, rogue-filled diners, underground clinics where one wrong look got you sold. I had learned to take up exactly the amount of space I was allocated and radiate quiet confidence from it. The HR woman led our small group from floor to floor. I filled out every form without hesitation, my pen moving steady across the pages. I absorbed the building protocols as she spoke, about the badge access, restricted areas, and emergency exits. My
Jasmine’s POV A letter from Apex Dynamics arrived in a plain white envelope with my name typed neatly across the front. It had no stamp and no postmark. It had been slipped under the apartment door sometime during the night. I noticed it when I stepped into the apartment after my morning shift at the clinic, my fingers were already stained with cleaning solution. I carried it to the kitchen table and tore it open under the single hanging bulb. The paper felt thick and expensive. The letterhead rose slightly under my thumb when I ran it across the top. I hadn’t submitted an application or attended an interview for another role. I just got an offer for a low-level administrative position starting the following week. My eyes moved down the page and stopped dead on the third paragraph. Full medical benefits. I held the letter under the kitchen light for twenty minutes. I tilted it at every angle, watching how the ink caught the bulb. I pressed my thumb across the raised letterhead a
Jasmine’s POV Glenn stepped into my apartment uninvited. He moved like he belonged there, crossing the small space in three strides and setting a thick manila envelope on the kitchen counter. Then he turned toward the door to leave. I moved faster than I thought I could. I spread my body across the door frame, arms braced on both sides, blocking his exit completely. My heart hammered against my ribs. The torn collar from last night still hung loose on my shirt, a reminder I didn’t need. Glenn stopped inches from me. Close enough that I caught the clean, expensive scent of him again. Close enough that the amulet warmed against my chest. “The debt is cancelled,” he said quietly. I stared up at him. “I didn’t ask you to cancel it.” His dark eyes held mine. “You already owe me.” He moved toward the door again, but I didn’t step aside. My shoulders pressed harder into the frame. My legs stayed planted. He could have moved me easily if he wanted to, we both knew it. But he stopped
Jasmine’s POV The enforcer grabbed my collar the second I pushed the apartment door open. He slammed me against the wall before I could even step inside. The impact drove the air from my lungs in one sharp rush. My back hit the peeling paint hard enough that pain exploded up my spine. His thick fingers twisted the fabric tight against my throat. I got both hands on his forearm, nails digging in, trying to pry enough space to breathe. My vision spotted at the edges. Zea was already moving from across the room, her face set in that fierce way she got before a fight, but she was too far. The small living room stretched between us like a canyon. “Time’s up, Trivett,” the enforcer growled, breathing hot and sour against my face. “Drax wants his money or he wants you. Guess which one he prefers.” I couldn’t answer. My lungs burned, my fingers slipped on his arm. The amulet pressed cold and hard between us. Then the front door came off its hinges. Not opened, it came off its frame. Th
Tristan’s POV I stood on the rooftop across from the diner with both hands on the railing. The metal was cold under my palms. I had been there for over an hour, watching through the large front windows as Jasmine moved between tables. She looked exhausted, her lean frame was carrying too much weight. Her hair was pulled back tight. But she kept working, dodging wandering hands and loud rogues with the practiced grace of someone who had done it too many times. My wolf was restless. The curse gnawed at the edges of my control, but I held it steady. I wasn’t ready to approach her again. Not yet, I just needed to see her. To know she was safe. Then a drunk rogue grabbed her wrist across the bar counter. My grip bent the steel railing inward before the decision even reached my conscious mind. Metal groaned under my fingers. My knuckles went white, and a low growl built in my chest. No human in the building below could hear it, but every supernatural being within two blocks would feel







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