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# Chapter 3: The Phoenix of Wall Street

Five years is a long time in the human world. Governments change. Currencies rise and fall. Technology evolves at a breakneck speed.

In the werewolf world, five years is nothing but a blink of an eye. Wolves live for centuries. We hold grudges for decades. We value tradition over progress.

That was the mistake the Blackwood Pack made. They assumed time would stand still for them. They assumed their ancient name and their territory borders would protect them from the harsh reality of modern economics.

They were wrong.

I stood before the floor-to-ceiling glass window of my office on the forty-fifth floor. The city of Seattle sprawled out beneath me like a circuit board of rain and gray steel. It was a cold view, but I liked the cold. The cold kept you alert. The cold ensured you never got comfortable.

"Ms. Vance," a voice called out from the intercom on my desk. "The board members are waiting in Conference Room B. They are getting restless."

I turned away from the window. My reflection caught in the glass for a brief second. The girl I saw was a stranger to the Elara who had run into the woods five years ago.

That girl had been skinny, malnourished, and terrified. She wore ragged hand-me-down clothes and kept her head bowed to avoid eye contact.

The woman in the reflection wore a tailored slate gray suit that cost more than the entire Blackwood kitchen budget. My hair was no longer a frizzy mess tied back with a rubber band. It was a sleek curtain of silk that fell to my waist. My makeup was sharp enough to cut glass.

"Let them wait," I said calmly. I pressed the button on the intercom. "Power is about timing, Jessica. If I walk in there now, I am on their schedule. If I walk in there in five minutes, they are on mine."

"Understood, Ma'am."

I walked over to the massive mahogany desk that dominated the room. A single file folder sat in the center of the pristine surface.

It was black. The label on the front was stamped with a silver crest. It was a wolf howling at a crescent moon.

The Blackwood Pack crest.

My fingers hovered over the file. I did not need to open it to know what was inside. I had memorized every debt, every bad investment, and every crumbling alliance Kael had made in the last sixty months.

He was desperate. His pack was bleeding money. The northern mines had dried up. The timber contracts had been lost to human regulations. He had tried to marry Siena for her father's wealth, but even her family money could not plug the hole in a sinking ship of that magnitude.

Now he had only one option left.

Vance Global Enterprises.

Me.

The door to my office opened. I did not look up. I knew exactly who it was by the scent of heavy rain and ozone.

"You are enjoying this too much," a deep voice rumbled.

I smiled as I picked up the file. "Hello to you too, Dorian."

Dorian leaned against the doorframe. He was six feet four inches of pure muscle and lethal grace. He wore a suit, but he looked like he would be more comfortable in leather armor holding a battle axe. He was my Head of Security. He was also the only person in this city who knew exactly what I was.

"I am not enjoying it," I lied as I tapped the file against my palm. "This is just business."

Dorian snorted. He walked into the room and closed the door. "Elara, you have spent three million dollars acquiring the debt of a pack that rejected you. You bought their mortgage. You bought their supply chain. You essentially own the ground they walk on. This is not business. This is a hunt."

"They needed a savior," I said simply. "I am just a benevolent investor."

"You are a predator playing with your food," Dorian corrected. He crossed his arms over his chest. "He is here, by the way."

My heart gave a single and painful thump against my ribs. I silenced it immediately. I had spent years training myself to control my biological reactions.

"Is he?" I asked. I kept my voice bored.

"He is in the lobby," Dorian said. "He brought an entourage. His Beta. His Gamma. And her."

My fingers tightened on the file. The cardstock crinkled under the pressure.

"Siena is here?"

"She insisted on coming," Dorian said. His golden eyes watched me carefully. "She thinks she is here to charm the mysterious CEO of Vance Global. She thinks she can bat her eyelashes and get a better interest rate."

A dark laugh bubbled in my throat. "She always did overestimate her charm."

"Are you ready for this?" Dorian asked. His voice dropped an octave. It became serious. "You have not seen him since that night. The mate bond is a tricky thing, Elara. It does not care about your bank account or your revenge plan. Once you smell him, your wolf will want to react."

I looked at Dorian. I let my eyes flash violet for a fraction of a second. The power in the room spiked. The air pressure dropped. The lights overhead flickered.

Dorian stiffened. He bowed his head slightly in instinctive submission to the Lycan bloodline.

"My wolf answers to me," I stated coldly. "Not him. Not anymore."

"Daddy!"

The tension in the room shattered instantly.

A small ball of energy sprinted through the side door that connected my office to the private penthouse suite.

Leo crashed into Dorian's legs. My son had messy black hair and a smile that could light up a dark forest. He was four years old and already showing signs of advanced strength.

Dorian's stoic face melted. He scooped Leo up effortlessly and tossed him into the air. The little boy shrieked with laughter.

"There is the little monster," Dorian growled playfully. "Did you finish your lessons?"

"Yes! Miss Hattie said I am a genius," Leo declared. He wriggled free and ran over to me. "Mommy, look! I drew a wolf."

He held up a piece of paper. It was a crayon drawing of a large white wolf standing on top of a mountain. At the bottom of the mountain were tiny stick figures of other wolves bowing down.

My breath hitched. Leo had never seen me shift. I kept my Lycan form hidden even from him to keep him safe. He drew this from instinct. It was in his blood.

I crouched down and took the drawing. "It is beautiful, Leo. You are a true artist."

"It is you," Leo whispered loudly. He pointed to the white wolf. "That is the Mommy Wolf. She is the boss."

I kissed his forehead to hide the emotion in my eyes. He was so perceptive. He was also dangerous. If Kael saw him, there would be no denying the parentage. Leo had Kael's jawline. He had Kael's stubbornness. And most dangerously, he had Kael's slate gray eyes, though they were flecked with my own violet.

"Leo," I said softly. I smoothed his hair back. "Dorian is going to take you to the zoo today. You have to go right now."

"But I want to stay!" Leo pouted. "You said we could have lunch."

"I have a very boring meeting," I said. "With very boring people. They yell and talk about numbers. You would hate it."

"Are they bad people?" Leo asked. He tilted his head.

I paused. I looked at the drawing of the white wolf.

"They are people who made a mistake," I said carefully. "And today I am going to teach them how to fix it."

Dorian set Leo down. "Come on, little monster. If we leave now, we can see the tigers before they get fed."

Leo cheered. He forgot about the boring meeting instantly. He ran back to the side door. "Bye Mommy! Kick their butts!"

"Language," I warned, but I was smiling.

Dorian paused at the door. He looked back at me. "I will keep him away until the building is clear. Good luck, Elara. Try not to burn the building down."

"No promises."

The door clicked shut. The silence returned.

I stood up and walked back to my desk. I smoothed out my suit jacket. I checked my reflection in the dark screen of my computer.

I was perfect. I was armored.

I pressed the intercom button again.

"Jessica," I said. "Cancel the board meeting. Tell them something urgent came up. Reschedule them for tomorrow."

"But Ma'am," Jessica stammered. "Mr. Henderson flew in from London."

"I do not care," I said. "Cancel it. And Jessica?"

"Yes?"

"Send Alpha Blackwood and his party up. Tell them they have ten minutes of my time."

"Yes, Ma'am."

I sat down in my high leather chair. I swiveled it around so that my back was facing the door. I wanted to face the window again. I wanted them to walk into the room and see nothing but the back of the chair and the view of the city I had conquered.

It was a power move. It was petty. It was perfect.

I heard the elevator ding down the hall. I heard heavy footsteps approaching. There were four sets of footprints.

My nose twitched.

The scent hit me even through the heavy oak doors.

It was the smell of a pine forest after a storm. It was the smell of ozone and rain. It was the smell that had haunted my dreams for five years.

Kael.

Underneath his scent was the cloying and sweet smell of vanilla and roses. Siena.

My heart hammered, but my hands remained steady on the armrests of my chair. I closed my eyes and engaged the mental shields I had learned from the Lycan elders. I pushed the wolf down. I locked her in a cage of ice.

*You feel nothing,* I told myself. *You are not a mate. You are a CEO. You are a creditor.*

The door to my office opened.

"Mr. Vance will be with you shortly," Jessica squeaked. She clearly assumed the CEO was a man. Everyone did. "Please take a seat."

"We do not have time to sit," a male voice snapped. It was not Kael. It was his Beta, Marcus. "Our appointment was for two o'clock. It is two zero five."

"Vance Global runs on its own time," Jessica said, finding her backbone. "Can I get you water?"

"No," Kael's voice spoke.

The sound of it sent a shiver down my spine. It was deeper than I remembered. It sounded rougher and tired. It lacked the arrogant boom it had possessed five years ago.

"We just want to get this over with," Kael said. "Where is he?"

I waited three seconds. I let the silence stretch until it was uncomfortable.

Then I spun the chair around.

"He is a she," I said. My voice was smooth and cool.

I watched the realization hit them in slow motion.

Kael stood in the center of the room. He looked older. There were lines of stress around his eyes and gray hairs at his temples. His suit was expensive but worn at the cuffs. He looked like a king who had lost his crown.

Siena stood next to him. She wore a white designer dress and gripped a Chanel bag. She looked exactly the same, though perhaps her eyes were harder.

Marcus the Beta and the Gamma stood behind them.

When I turned, Kael was looking at his watch. He glanced up impatiently.

His eyes met mine.

He froze. His mouth opened slightly, but no sound came out. The color drained from his face, leaving him ghostly pale. He stumbled back a step as if I had physically struck him.

"Elara?" he whispered. The name sounded like a prayer and a curse all at once.

Siena gasped. She dropped her Chanel bag. It hit the floor with a heavy thud.

"No," Siena hissed. Her eyes darted over my suit, my hair, and the opulent office. "This is impossible. You are dead. You died in the woods."

"Disappointing, isn't it?" I said dryly. I did not stand up. I stayed seated on my throne. "Please. Sit down. You are cluttering my view."

Kael did not move. He stared at me with a hunger that made my skin crawl. He took a step forward. His hand reached out instinctively.

"Elara," he said again. His voice cracked. "You... you are alive."

"I am," I said. I opened the black file on my desk. "And according to this file, I own your debt. I own your mortgage. And as of this morning, I own forty percent of your territory's logging rights."

I looked up at him. I let a small and cruel smile play on my lips.

"So, Alpha Blackwood," I said. "You can stop looking at me like you have seen a ghost. You are not here to reunite with an old friend. You are here to beg the bank for a loan. And I am the bank."

Kael stared at me. The shock began to fade, replaced by confusion and a dawning horror. He realized the power dynamic had not just shifted. It had inverted completely.

"You own Vance Global?" he asked hoarsely.

"I am Vance Global," I corrected. "Now, sit down. You have eight minutes left."

Kael slowly lowered himself into the chair opposite my desk. He looked small. He looked defeated.

But as he sat, I saw his nostrils flare. He was scenting the air. He was smelling the office.

He frowned.

"You smell different," he murmured. "You smell... like a mother."

The air in the room vanished.

I kept my face perfectly still.

"I have a dog," I said flatly. "Now. Page one. Let us discuss your incompetence."