The Audit

I didn't expect to be summoned so soon.

After the incident in the dining hall, I had retreated back to my room. My heart was still pounding with adrenaline from standing up to Elena. I sat down on the edge of the very large bed while staring at my hands. Those hands were steady. The food I had forced down was taking effect. The fog in my mind cleared, and in its place, the sharp buzz of clarity set in—one I had not felt in years.

I waited for punishment. Usually, any form of back-talk, however slight, to a higher-ranking wolf in the Silver River Pack lessened your chances of punishment and more defined the style of punishment to be meted out to you. I expected Elena to come back with guards. I expected to be thrown into the cellar.

Instead, an hour later, a knock on my door.

It wasn't a servant but one of the elite guards, a very large man in a black tactical uniform.

"Alpha requests your presence," he said, with no inflection whatsoever. Purely flat.

My stomach squirmed. "Is that about lunch?"

The guard didn't answer. He stepped aside and gestured down the hall. "Top floor. The study."

Studying. This was precisely the place Dr. Evans had told me never to go without invitation. Dante’s territory-the nerve center for his empire.

I pressed my palms against my shirt, smoothing out the wrinkles on the silk before standing straight. I was bare feet. I felt small and fragile (-but fall short of)cower. If Dante was going to punish me for eating, I would tell him exactly how much he was losing by starving his fifty-million-dollar purchase.

We were walking in silence. The castle was massively grand. We bypassed the grand staircase for a private glass elevator at the end of the hallway. The view was opening as we moved up. I could see the mighty forest down below the cliff, with trees lying like tiny toys.

The elevator opened straight into a grand office.

Like its owner, it was dark and forbidding. The walls were lined with bookshelves that reached the ceiling. One entire wall was made of glass and looked out onto the stormy ocean crashing against the rocks below. In the middle of the room sat a black wooden desk large enough to land a helicopter on.

And behind it sat the King.

Dante was typing on a laptop. He did not even glance up as the elevator dinged. He gave no acknowledgment to the guard, who bowed and withdrew, leaving me alone with the beast.

I stood on the plush carpet, waiting. I counted seconds... ten... twenty... thirty.

He was testing me. He wanted to see whether I would fidget, whether I would speak first.

I stayed silent. Hands clasped behind my back, I continued watching him.

At long last, Dante had finished his typing. He closed the laptop with a soft click and leaned back in the leather chair. Golden eyes surveyed me, traveling from my bare feet to my face.

"You made a scene," he said.

"I had lunch," I corrected him. "Your housekeeper seemed to think I didn't deserve a plate."

"Elena is protective of the pack's resources," Dante replied calmly. "She sees a human stranger eating the pack's food, and her instinct is to defend it."

"She sees a weakness," I said while advancing toward him, "and she wanted to exploit it. I didn't let her."

Dante's lips twitched. That almost smile again. "No. You didn't. You used my own greed against her. You told her I wouldn't want my investment damaged."

He stood up and walked around the desk. He moved with a prowling grace that set my nerves on edge. He was wearing a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, revealing thick forearms corded with muscle.

He simply stopped before me and said, "Smart move, " It can make the most any Omega can cry. But you have weighed the risks.

He grasped a black tablet from the top ledge of his table.

'' You cleaned Miller's office,'' Dante said so suddenly as he had already changed the topic, '' and found his accounts. ''

" I have. "

" And you found the laundering scheme in five minutes. "

" Quite clearly, " I shrugged. In fact, Miller is not very clever. He believes he knows it all, hence he's careless.

Dante kept tapping the screen of the tablet and presented it to me.

Miller was a small fish, commented Dante. I am dealing with whales: This is data from one of my shipping companies. We have lost so much cargo over the past three months. My analysts say pirates or bad weather; my gut says it's theft.

I looked down at the screen, released a heavy sigh, and braced myself to proceed. It was a hard spreadsheet with shipping codes, weights, dates, and fuel costs-all data noise.

"What do you want me to do?" I asked.

"Find the leak," Dante commanded. "If you are as smart as you think you are, prove it. If you're just a girl who got lucky with Miller's sloppy books, then you can go back to your room and knit."

He walked over to a small bar cart and poured himself a glass of amber liquid. He wasn't watching me, but I knew he was listening to my every breath.

Look at the numbers.

It first just sounded like noise. Thousands of rows; cargoes coming from Asia and out to Europe.

I sat down on the edge of a leather sofa. I closed my eyes for a second, taking a deep breath. Focus.

I started to pattern-spot.

I looked at the fuel expenses. I looked again and focused on the cargo weight.

"Here," I whispered after five minutes.

I swiped to the next month. The pattern repeated.

"Here again."

Ten minutes ticking by. It was otherwise quiet in the room except for the sound of the ice clinking in Dante's glass.

"I found it," I said.

Dante turned around. His face was a mask of surprise. "Already?"

"It's not pirates," I said, standing up and holding the tablet out to him. "It's your fuel logs."

He frowned while crossing to accept the dang thing. "Explain."

"Look at the weight of the ships when they leave port," I pointed to column D. "And look at the fuel consumption in column G. The ships are burning ten percent more fuel than they should for that weight."

Dante narrowed his eyes, studying the numbers.

"My analysts said that was due to rough seas," he muttered.

"For three months straight?" I shook my head. "No. The ships are heavier than the manifest says. They are leaving port carrying additional cargo that is not on the list--illegal cargo, probably drugs or weapons given the routes--and they are offloading it at sea before they reach the destination."

I scrolled down. "And look here. The delay times. Every ship that burns extra fuel arrives six hours late. They are stopping somewhere to make a drop."

Dante stared at the screen. His jaw tightened. The air in the room grew heavy with his anger. It wasn't directed at me; it was directed at the betrayal I had just uncovered.

"My captains, " he growled, his voice low with danger. "They are smuggling on my ships."

"Yes, " I said. "And since the fuel logs are signed off by the Port Manager... he is in on it too."

Dante looked from the screen back up at me. This wasn't about interest anymore. It was value.

"Ten minutes of work compared to a month of expensive MBAs would have turned up for you," he said quietly.

"You MBAs are looking for mistakes in the money," I explained. "I was looking for errors in the story. Numbers always tell stories, if only you know how to read them."

Dante walked back to his workstation and put down the tablet. He lifted a key card.

He walked back to me and held it out.

"This is an access card," he said. "It opens the library and the server room on the third floor. It also gives you access to the encrypted network."

I stared at the plastic card. "Why are you giving me this?"

"Because you are bored," he said. "And a bored mind is a dangerous thing. I have dozens of companies, Maya. And I suspect I have dozens of leaks."

He pressed the card into my hand. His fingers brushed my palm, sending a jolt of electricity up my arm. He felt it too; I saw his pupils dilate slightly. But he pulled his hand away quickly.

"You are no longer a prisoner confined to a bedroom," said Dante, now holding me fast in his iron grip. "You are an Auditor for the Black Summit Corporation. You will review the files I send you. You will find the leaks. You will save me money."

"And what do I get?" I asked.

Dante stood still, contemplating. "You get to eat at my table. You get to wear clothes that actually fit. And…"

He leaned in close. I could smell the whiskey on his breath.

"And you get my protection, too. If Elena or anyone else bothers you, you tell them you are working for the King. They won't touch you."

It wasn't freedom, not really. I was still bought. I was still owned. Maybe it was a purpose, though. It might allow survival without being victimized.

I closed my fingers around the card. It felt cool and hard.

"Deal," I said.

Dante nodded. "Good. Now go. I have captains to execute."

He turned his back on me, picking up his phone. The cold, ruthless King was back.

I turned and walked toward the elevator. As the doors closed, I looked back at him one last time. He was already barking orders into the phone, commanding death for the men who had stolen from him.

I shivered. He was a monster.

But as I looked at the access card in my hand, I realized something.

The monster had just given me the keys to his kingdom. And if I played my cards right, I wouldn't just be his Auditor. I would be the one who controlled the purse strings of the most powerful pack in the world.