Todos los capítulos de Claimed By The Steel Pack: Capítulo 1 - Capítulo 10

​The air on the forty-second floor of Vance Global Logistics did not smell like glass polish or expensive leather. It smelled like copper, crushed pine,the crisp, static charge that fills the air right before lightning hits an open field.​I kept my leather boots light against the polished marble, my shoulder bag pressed tightly against my ribs. I paused near the shadow of a marble pillar, watching the sweep of the floor's exterior LED strip. Seven minutes. The night security guard on the north wing took exactly seven minutes before taking the elevator down to the lobby.​I reached into my coat pocket, my thumb tracing the metal edge of a high-speed flash drive.​My father had died three years ago with a ruined reputation and a frozen bank account, accused of embezzling eight million dollars from an offshore affiliate tied to Vance Global. The police had closed the file. The court had sealed the bankruptcy. But I knew accounting, and I knew my father. He was a man who re-balanced bala

​The drive out of the city felt less like a normal drive and more like an abduction in slow motion.​I sat in the back of a blacked-out SUV, staring at the small, square bezel of my phone screen. No signal. The driver, a broad, silent man named Vance’s head of security, who hadn't spoken a word since he forced my shoulder bag into the trunk, controlled the jammer mounted under the dash.​Outside, the glittering glass towers of the financial district dissolved into twisting, rain-slicked highway, which quickly yielded to dense pine forest.​"Where are we going?" I asked, my voice cutting through the heavy hum of the engine. "This isn't anywhere near the suburban residential district."​"Blackwood estate," the driver said smoothly, his eyes meeting mine in the rearview mirror for a split second. "Private territory."​Ten minutes later, the SUV slowed as we approached massive wrought-iron gates set into ten-foot-high stone walls. The gates swept inward without a sound, and we rolled onto

​The corporate headquarters of Vance Global Logistics felt entirely different by daylight. What had been a dark, shadowy cavern two nights ago was now a gleaming hive of high-stakes commerce. Men and women in five-thousand-dollar suits glided across polished marble floors, carrying tablet computers and espresso cups, completely oblivious to the supernatural shadow war funding their company's perimeter security.​I walked half a step behind Kaelen as we crossed the floor toward Executive Conference Room A.​I wore a sharp blazer and trouser, delivered to my suite at Blackwood Estate at dawn, and held a leather document folder tucked under my arm. The electric tension that pulsed between Kaelen and me hadn't faded. Every time his shoulder brushed mine, or his low voice instructed me where to stand, that strange, intoxicating heat flared along my skin.​"Remember the brief," Kaelen murmured, leaning down slightly so his breath brushed my hair. "You are my chief forensic consultant. You s

​The holding cell beneath Blackwood Estate smelled like damp concrete, rust, and old sweat.​Victor Sterling was zip-tied to a heavy steel chair bolted straight into the foundation. His hair was a mess, and the collar of his expensive shirt was dark with dried blood where Kaelen had snagged him in the boardroom four hours ago.​I stood by the doorway, my back flat against the cold cinder block. My knees were still a little shaky from the elevator ride down, but I wasn't going anywhere. If Victor was about to name the people who set up my dad, I wanted to hear every word.​Kaelen leaned against a metal table in the middle of the room, arms crossed over his chest. He’d tossed his jacket somewhere down the hall and rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, showing off dark bruises and a couple of pale scars on his forearms.​"Five minutes, Victor," Kaelen said. His voice was low, but it had that heavy, scraping pitch that made my teeth ache. "Then I step out and let Greta handle it."​Victor

​The plane banked hard to the left, sending my cold coffee sliding off the table. The mug slammed into the floor, spilling black liquid all over the Apex Capital pages.​I grabbed the armrests as gravity pulled us sideways. Outside the window, the grey clouds flickered red every time our wingtip lights flashed.​"Hold on," Kaelen said.​He didn't freak out. He unbuckled his belt, stood up like the floor wasn't leaning at a thirty-degree angle, and walked straight into the cockpit.​"Alpha!" the copilot called out over the roar of the wind hitting the nose. "Two planes dropped out of the cloud layer behind us. They're trying to force us down toward the water before we reach Swiss airspace!"​"They know where we're going," Kaelen said, his voice flat. He leaned over the pilot's chair, staring down at the radar screen. "Can you drop under the clouds over the ridge?"​"Not in this weather," the pilot grunted, wrestling with the wheel as another hit of turbulence rattled the cabin ceiling.