From His Rejection to His Uncle’s Obsession
Marcus walked into the room, his heavy tactical boots thudding loudly against the rug, his beta scent drenched in an intense, metallic edge of high-stakes panic that made the hairs on my arms stand up.
"We have a localized containment breach, Boss," Marcus said, stopping five feet from the desk, his face turning a volatile, bloodless white as he held up a leather courier satchel.
"What is it, Marcus?" I asked, stepping out from Rowan's shadow, my heart taking a sudden, frantic leap against my ribs as the emotional keywords of my past—isolation, sabotage, betrayal—vibrated in the room.
Bab Populer