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Chapter 16: The Beta's Warning

Penulis: Sonia.C
last update Terakhir Diperbarui: 2025-12-24 06:41:35

​The midnight air in the East Wing of Rourke Tower didn't carry the faint, floral scent of the West Wing’s high-end laundry detergent or the subtle, creative energy of Evie’s drafting table. Here, the atmosphere was thick with the scent of old paper, expensive leather, and the heavy, metallic tang of an Alpha on the edge of a breakdown. The "professional recovery" Damon had demanded was proving to be anything but restorative. For Damon, the silence was an echo chamber for a biological imperative he was trying to starve to death.

​He sat behind his massive obsidian desk, the only light in the room provided by the dim glow of multiple security monitors and a half-empty glass of amber scotch. His tie was long gone, and his white shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, revealing the corded muscles of a neck that felt like it was being squeezed by an invisible hand. Every few seconds, his gaze would flicker to the monitor displaying the hallway between the wings—the "neutral zone." He wasn't l
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  • THE CEO'S CONTRACT LUNA    Chapter 23: The Date Night Charade

    ​The morning following their confrontation in the West Wing felt like the temporary stillness at the center of a cyclone. The air in Rourke Tower remained charged, but the jagged, acrid scent of Damon’s aggression had been replaced by a heavy, expectant silence. The "First Slip" in the boardroom—the accidental granting of the Sylvan easement—had created a PR nightmare that Marcus was currently trying to drown in a sea of corporate litigation. However, litigation was a slow weapon. To pacify the Pack Council and signal to Alpha Kellen that the Silver Crescent was still unified, Damon needed a more immediate, visceral display of stability.​He needed a spectacle.​"The optics are currently at a deficit," Marcus had explained during the 7:00 AM briefing, his voice as dry as parchment. "The human press is whispering about a 'merger instability,' and the Pack Elders are sensing the Alpha’s fluctuating resonance. If you don't anchor the narrative by tonight, the Council will call for a form

  • THE CEO'S CONTRACT LUNA    Chapter 22: The First Slip

    The boardroom of Rourke Industries was a cathedral of glass, obsidian, and lethal ambition, situated on the 98th floor where the air was thin and the stakes were mountainous. For the dozen executives seated around the massive table, this was a morning of predatory negotiation. For Damon Rourke, however, it was a slow-motion descent into sensory agony. The air in the room was climate-controlled to a crisp 18°C, yet he felt a fever burning beneath his skin—a localized heat that had nothing to do with the ventilation and everything to do with the woman currently sitting three floors above him.​Since the night in the Sanctum, the Mate Bond had transitioned from a nagging subsonic frequency into an all-consuming static. Every time Damon tried to focus on the merger documents before him, his mind would involuntarily drift to the curve of Evie’s neck, the defiant spark in her eyes, and the way her scent—a mixture of sandalwood and structural steel—seemed to have permanently stained his nerv

  • THE CEO'S CONTRACT LUNA    Chapter 21: Helena’s History

    ​The vibration of the Sanctum’s steel door closing behind them had left a phantom hum in Evie’s bones, a frequency that refused to dissipate even as the lights of the Tower roared back to life. In the twenty-four hours since the blackout, Damon had become a specter. He was a presence felt through the heavy scent of pine in the hallways and the sudden, sharp barks of command echoing from the tactical suite, but he did not seek her out. The barrier that had nearly shattered in the darkness had been reinforced with a new, desperate kind of iron.​Evie, meanwhile, felt like a structure whose load-bearing walls had been compromised. She spent her morning staring at the "Cloaking Efficiency" models on her screen, but the numbers were just static. Her skin felt hypersensitive, her mind a repeating loop of the moment Damon’s forehead had rested against hers in the vault.​The summons did not come from Damon, nor from Marcus. It arrived via a hand-delivered, cream-colored envelope, smelling of

  • THE CEO'S CONTRACT LUNA    Chapter 20: The Broken Barrier

    ​The transition from the fragile domesticity of the shared meal to the high-stakes theater of the Pack Council was supposed to be a matter of professional discipline. Evie had barely stepped into her suite, her mind still reeling from the warmth of Damon’s admission, when the world simply ceased to exist.​There was no sound—no explosion, no mechanical failure—just an instantaneous, absolute withdrawal of light. Rourke Tower, a monument to technological perfection and structural invincibility, went blind. The humming of the servers, the subtle vibration of the climate control, and even the faint, omnipresent glow of the emergency floor-strips vanished. In the vacuum of the 100th floor, the darkness was so thick it felt like a physical weight against her lungs.​“Evie.”​Damon’s voice didn't come from the hallway. It came from right beside her. He had moved with the terrifying, silent speed of a predator who didn't need eyes to navigate his own territory. Before she could gasp, his han

  • THE CEO'S CONTRACT LUNA    Chapter 19: The Shared Meal

    ​The aftermath of the shipping yard raid had left Rourke Tower vibrating with a frantic, invisible energy. It was 3:14 AM, the hour of the wolf, and the silence of the 100th floor was heavy with the residual scent of gunpowder, industrial ozone, and the sharp, pine-heavy pheromones of an Alpha who had tasted blood and survived.​Evie hadn't slept. She had spent the hours since being dismissed pace-counting the length of her West Wing suite, her mind a chaotic loop of Kellen’s corporate crimes and the look in Damon’s eyes before he had sent her away. The "Hum" of the Mate Bond was no longer a low-frequency background noise; it was a rhythmic pulse, a biological drumbeat that demanded her presence in the East Wing. Her body felt strangely heavy, yet jittery, as if her cells were trying to migrate through the walls to find their anchor.​Hunger eventually became the only excuse she could stomach. The "professional recovery" period usually meant the staff stocked the kitchenette in her wi

  • THE CEO'S CONTRACT LUNA    Chapter 18: Kellen’s Proxy

    The morning air in the Silver Crescent Tower tasted of ozone and expensive espresso, but for Evie, it was the sharp, metallic tang of data that kept her awake. Following the revelation that Alpha Kellen was the architect of her family’s ruin, the dynamic of her confinement had fundamentally shifted. She was no longer just a "purchased asset" or a "prisoner of circumstance." She had become something far more dangerous to Kellen: a vengeful architect with the keys to the King’s vault.​Damon had not summoned her to the East Wing today. Instead, he had sent a courier—not Marcus, but a silent, high-ranking Enforcer—with a localized server node. It was a physical manifestation of his growing trust, or perhaps, his growing desperation. Along with the server came a short, handwritten note on heavy cream stationery:​The wolves see the scent. The lawyers see the law. I need the architect to see the structure. Find where Kellen is hiding his heart.​Evie sat at her drafting table, the sprawlin

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