Wrong Text, Right Alpha

“Send location. I’m on my way.”

The black words on the white screen made my mind go completely blank.

Gideon Vance.

My boss. The tyrant CEO of Apex Investments.

The Alpha of North America’s most powerful pack.

Thud. The phone slipped from my sweaty hands.

My rebellious urge to let loose vanished. Doused by a hundred tons of ice water.

I sent that filthy text… to my cold, ruthless Alpha boss. The one whose gaze alone could kill.

I dove for the phone, frantically stabbing the “unsend” button.

A cruel notification popped up: Message sent more than two minutes ago. Cannot be recalled.

It was over.

My career was officially dead.

I bit my lip, hard.

Gideon wouldn't even need his Alpha aura. A single glance from those piercing amber wolf eyes would be enough to crush me.

My fingers, white at the knuckles, trembled as I typed. “Mr. Vance, I am so sorry! That was an accident, I sent it to the wrong person!”

Sent.

The three dots appeared at the top of the screen immediately.

He was typing.

Ten seconds of silence. Each one a footstep on my heart.

They say werewolves have a keen sense of smell. I bet he could smell the cold sweat of my panic through the screen.

A new message popped up.

No condescending mockery. No termination notice.

Just a single, heavy question.

“Who was it for, Harper?”

My heart skipped a beat. Through the screen, I could almost hear his deep, gravelly voice.

I scrambled for my tablet and called my best friend, Chloe.

“Help me! I sent the ‘deep session’ text to my Alpha boss!”

Dead silence on the other end.

“Are you insane?!” Chloe shrieked. “Gideon Vance? The top-tier Alpha who doesn’t let any female get close to him?!”

“It was a mistake!” I frantically sent her the screenshot. “Look what he replied! He’s interrogating me!”

Chloe gasped. Her voice was a mix of disbelief and wild excitement. “Oh my god, Harper. Don’t you think that’s… incredibly hot?”

“What?”

“‘Who was it for?’ He’s jealous!” Chloe said, completely convinced. “Everyone knows he’s a ruthless, ice-cold Alpha. Has he ever said a word to you besides work orders? And now he cares who you’re sleeping with? Top Alphas are insanely territorial over their mates. He’s definitely into you!”

Blood rushed to my head.

Could it be true? That man… with a perfect eight-pack that puts any human to shame, the one who smells of cold cedar… could he be possessive of me?

Was it possible… this wasn’t a one-sided fantasy?

I took a deep breath, trying to act calm as I typed a test.

“Just a Tinder date. Sorry to bother you.”

Sent.

I stared at the screen, a smile I couldn’t control spreading across my face.

If he was jealous, he would use that Alpha voice that makes my knees weak. He’d order me to cancel the date.

Ding.

The reply was instant.

And in the next second, my blood turned to ice.

“I thought you lost a game of Truth or Dare. I was just playing along.”

A second message followed.

“Have the report in my inbox by 8 AM.”

And a third.

“Don’t let your personal life affect my company.”

A bucket of cold water.

So much for Alpha possessiveness. So much for a secret crush. His words shattered everything.

I stared at the screen, my face burning with shame.

He wasn't jealous at all!

He saw right through me. He was laughing at me!

Even his “Send location” was just a cruel joke.

“Harper? What did he say?” Chloe asked eagerly.

“He wants a report by 8 AM tomorrow!” I snapped, hung up, and threw my phone onto the bed.

Humiliation. Frustration. Blinding rage.

Screw your cold Alpha! Screw your Alpha pack!

They think because of their freakish werewolf genes, they don't need sleep. So they treat us humans like machines!

I had just worked a fourteen-hour day. It was midnight. And he wanted a report now?

I looked at my own pale face and dark circles in the mirror. My sanity snapped.

I shouldn't have hoped for anything.

He was just a cold-blooded, arrogant asshole who used his species’ advantage to exploit humans!

I grabbed my phone again. My fingers jabbed the screen, every letter filled with the force of wanting to tear his throat out.

But in the end, for the sake of next month’s rent and my job, I swallowed my pride. I typed my reply.

“Yes, Alpha. On it.”