Lahat ng Kabanata ng The Wolfpack's New Receptionist: Kabanata 11 - Kabanata 20

At 5:30 AM, the rain stopped, leaving the city dripping and wet. I drove back to the garage.As I pulled into the gravel lot, the silver SUV was no longer a block away. It was parked directly across from the gate, its engine idling. The "Shadow", the contractor my father had hired, was standing by the driver’s side door. He was no longer trying to be undercover. He was wearing a tactical vest, and his hand was resting openly on the grip of a sidearm.I stepped out of the Corolla, my legs shaking."Miss Thorne," the man said."Don't go in there.""My name is Eloise Miller," I said, my voice surprisingly cold."And you’re trespassing on private property, Mr...?""The name’s Miller, too. Call me Saul. I’ve been doing this for thirty years, kid. I’ve seen gangs, I’ve seen cartels, and I’ve seen cults. But what happened in that building last night... that wasn't human. The sounds coming through those walls? The way the structure was shaking? You’re in over your head.""It was a storm, Saul

I drove back to West Miami in a trance. My skin was stained with the very splatters of Saul’s blood. Vane’s cold, lethal twist played on a loop in my mind. The sound of the snap, the way Saul’s eyes had gone vacant.I pulled the Corolla up to the curb of my apartment building. But the sidewalk wasn't empty.Idling under a streetlamp was a machine that looked like it had been forged in the same dark furnace as the man sitting on it. It was a Combat Wraith, a custom-built powerhouse, trapped in a cage of steel.Cane leaned over the tank, his massive body dwarfing the bike. He had changed into a clean black T-shirt. His hair was windswept, and his eyes, though brown again, held a slight glow of amber that suggested the beast was only inches beneath the surface."I told you I wasn't going back to the penthouse," I said as I approached him."You’re not going to the penthouse," Cane said, his voice low.He reached out, handing me a black helmet."And you’re not staying in this dump today ei

The ride back to the garage was a blur of lights passing by at the speed of light. I cuddled against Cane’s back, my mind racing faster than the bike."Who were they?" I shouted over the wind; the image of Silas’s icy blue eyes burned into my memory."What did he mean about what you lost?"Cane didn't answer until we were going through the backstreets of the Rust Belt. He slowed the bike as we approached the familiar fence of the garage."That was Silas," he said, his voice filled with shame."The Iron-Claw Pack’s Alpha. They’re a pack of scavengers and killers who moved in from the north. Three years ago, this whole stretch, the Glades, the Big Cypress, the old sugar mills, it was ours. It was the territory of the Silver Moon Pack.""Your pack," I whispered, the realization hitting me."My pack," he confirmed."We were the kings of the wetlands. But Silas... he didn't play by the old laws. He used the hunters. He used his connections to track our dens. He caught us divided and took t

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 vi

The leather of the town car’s backseat felt like cold skin. Outside the windows, the pulse of Miami faded, replaced by the oppressive rows of royal palms that lined the entrance to the Thorne Estate. I sat in silence. I was "home," but as the massive iron gates swung shut behind us, the sound of the latch clicking into place felt like a cell door locking.Edward, my father’s driver, didn't look at me. He had seen me at my highest and my lowest, and today, I was simply a package being returned to its sender."Your father is at the pool," Edward said as we pulled up to the mansion."And... Miss Isabelle is with him," he warned me.My jaw tightened. Isabelle. My blood began to simmer, a heat that had nothing to do with the humidity and everything to do with the woman who had destroyed my life for sport.I walked toward the pool, my boots thudding heavily against the white limestone floors. I heard her laugh before I saw her. It was a sound that used to represent late nights and shared se