Summit Books Mga Nobela at Kwento

"No pack business, no stress, just rest and relaxation. If he does not, this could develop into something more serious." My father groaned. "A week? That is impossible. The Summit is today." "Summit?" I looked between them. "The Council of Alphas Summit," my father explained. "It is held twice a year, a gathering of all the major pack leaders in different regions to discuss territory disputes, trade agreements, and inter-pack laws. It is one of the most important meetings of the year, and I am supposed to be there." He looked at Dr. Morrison. "Can't you give me something? Some medicine to help me get through it?"

The Summit was a throwback to a different era, a fortress of tradition in which business and personal lives coexisted in strictly separate spheres. Jonah didn't look up from his sketchpad, but his pencil had stopped. He could feel the weight of the unasked question hanging in the air. The rumors continued to swirl, a toxic mist around them. This summit was the last act. If Clarkson went alone, the narrative would be set: the billionaire, humbled, returning to the ranks of serious men to account for his excesses. The "architect" would be relegated to a footnote, a temporary distraction being corrected.