The Deal

As I stepped into the lobby at exactly 07:45 AM, the atmosphere was different.

I didn't enter with designer shoes and clothes, nor did I have my usual attitude. I entered as a Miller, wearing denim jeans that were beginning to mold to my body and a plain blouse. The staff behind the reception desk barely looked up; to them, I was just another delivery girl.

I reached the executive elevator just as the doors were sliding shut. I thrust my hand through the sensor, and the doors re-opened. I stepped inside and found myself trapped.

Standing in the center of the mirrored box was Isabelle.

She looked like the girl I used to be. But the moment she saw me, she jumped.

“Eloise?” she gasped

“Oh my god, look at you. You look… tired.”

I didn’t say anything. I just gave her a look. Cold. Blank. Predatory.

“Listen, Eloise,” Isabelle started, her voice shaking slightly as she clutched a thick stack of folders on her chest.

“I should apologize for what I said on the phone. And what I did with the video. It wasn’t personal, I—"

“Save it, Isabelle,” I cut her off.

“I don’t care anymore. We were never on the same level. But what exactly are you doing here at eight in the morning?”

I glanced at the documents in her hands. Silver Moon Gala – Annual Budgeting & Security Logistics.

Isabelle saw me looking and immediately adjusted the documents, tucking the folder behind her arm. Her expression hardened, giving way to defensiveness.

“Your father contacted me,” she said, her chin lifting.

“He asked for my assistance to take over from you as the head of the charity organizations in your absence. He needed someone… reliable. I was just on my way to him to hand him some important documents.”

The elevator stopped. The doors opened to the sixtieth floor, the Thorne kingdom. Isabelle didn't wait. She marched out with a spiteful click of her heels, heading straight for the double doors of my father’s office, leaving me to wait in the reception area.

I sat on the edge of a leather chair, my heart beating with rage. I watched the clock. Five minutes. Ten. Then, the heavy office door creaked open just a fraction. It was intentional. Isabelle knew I was sitting there. Through the gap, I saw them.

My father was standing by the window, his hand resting firmly on Isabelle’s waist. She leaned into him, and then they shared a kiss, passionate, lingering, and utterly wrong. It was a declaration of war. She pulled away, saw me through the gap, and flashed a triumphant smile before stepping out into the hallway. She held the door open just a second too long, making sure I saw everything.

I stood up and walked into the office. My father shut the door behind me. He didn't offer a hug or a greeting. He simply indicated for me to take the seat opposite his massive glass desk.

“Really, Dad? Isabelle?” I spat, the irritation clearly showing.

“She is literally young enough to be your daughter. She is my age! It’s disgusting.”

Harrison Thorne sat down, leaning back into his leather chair.

“You are the last person on this earth to lecture me on my love life, young lady,” he countered.

"Young Lady? Do you call her that, too?" I asked sarcastically, but he didn't react.

I sat back, trying to maintain the Thorne stare, waiting for him to play his hand. I knew he had seen the footage. I knew he knew.

“My worst fears have come true,” he whispered, his eyes narrowing.

“My daughter, the heir to the Thorne legacy, in the hands of a monster.”

“They’re not monsters,” I countered, my voice steady.

“They are werewolves. They are a pack. But judging by the tactical team and the silver-laced weapons you sent after them yesterday, I take it you already knew that?”

“Yes, I know everything that goes on in this city, Eloise,” he said, leaning forward.

“I have spent twenty-three years trying to protect you from the reality of this world. Those… things. Those creatures. They are an infestation.”

“So, what do you want, Dad? Why am I here?”

My father tapped a button on his desk, and a hidden screen descended from the ceiling. It played the feed from the body cam. It showed Cane in the rear bay, his claws dripping with the intent to kill. It showed the power of the Alpha.

“Here is the deal, Eloise,” my father said.

“I have enough footage here to convince the federal authorities that your new boyfriend's little garage is a domestic terrorist cell. I have a tactical strike team on standby that could end that pack by sunset. I can level that warehouse immediately if I want.”

He paused, letting the weight of the threat settle.

“So, unless you want to see him in a cage or a body bag, you will return to your old life immediately. You will move in with me. You will act like a Thorne, without the shenanigans and the social suicide that led us here. No more headlines...and no more Miller.”

“Wow, Dad,” I laughed, a bitter, hollow sound.

“You go from cutting me off completely to keeping me under house arrest? You really drive a hard bargain.”

“I’m not done,” he said, his expression softening just a fraction, the look of a predator offering a treat.

“I know about the rivalry. I know about the Iron Claw Pack and their leader. I know they’ve been sniffing around your boyfriend’s den.”

My heart stopped.

“And here is my final offer: If you stay with me, if you remain under my roof and out of their world, I will ‘take care’ of the rival pack for you. I will use my influence and my security to ensure the Iron Claw Pack does not lay a single finger on the Silver Moon pack. I will keep Silas on a leash. Your monsters get to live in their garage in peace, provided you never see them again. If you step foot in that warehouse, the deal is dead, and I'll let Silas off his chain.”

I looked at the screen, at the image of Cane’s tormented, beautiful face. I thought of Vane’s blood on the floor and the sound of the motorcycles scouting our location. If I stayed, Cane lived. If I stayed, the pack was safe from a war they couldn't win.

“I accept,” I whispered, the words feeling like a death sentence.

“I’ll come home.”

"Deal", he says.