Series: Werewolves of Wall Street Series by Renee Rose
Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73722 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73722 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
“What? How?”
“One of your assistants–the new one? She said you told her to look for land for the Foundation.”
“That’s right.”
“She found a mention on a local message board. The old landowner passed, and her will specified that the land should be preserved as a wildlife sanctuary. Your assistant tracked the heir down and laid the groundwork for him to accept a buyout offer before it gets listed.”
New Girl.
It was wolf instinct that told me to assign her that task. That must be it because this kind of miracle never happens.
“We’ve only had one phone call,” Eagle says, “but the seller is very inclined. Especially for a deal that cashes him out and also fulfills his aunt’s wishes. No one knows, just the seller, your assistant and me. And now you.”
“Good. Let’s keep it that way. We’ll do this deal right under the Adalwulf’s noses. Next month, they’ll go hunting and find us camped on their back door.”
“Blackthroat Wildlife Preserve. Has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it? I quite like it.” Eagle sounds like he’s practically rubbing his hands together with glee, no doubt imagining Aiden and his father, Odin’s, faces when they find us marking our territory on the edge of their land.
“Good work,” I tell him.
“Oh it wasn’t me. It was all your assistant’s doing. Try not to fire her for a little while? She’s whip-smart.”
He ends the call.
“She is,” I say to myself, calling to mind my capable young assistant.
I stalk onto the balcony outside my bedroom, staring greedily into the deep woods. The walls of the mansion are closing in. I need to run.
An orange-nutmeg scent hits me so hard, my canines descend. It’s her scent–New Girl’s. Madison-call-me-Madi-Evans. The smell is so strong, I expect to see her sashaying out of the trees in a tight dress and stilettos, tucking a stray strand of her short hair behind her ear. She’d stop short and wrinkle her freckled nose at me. Yes, boss?
I scrub my eyes. I’m definitely on edge if I’m starting to hallucinate scents here, in my home, my sanctuary.
Fuck this. I whirl from the window and strip my clothes so fast, they flutter to the ground in shreds. My joints crack as I drop to all fours in my wolf form. Maybe if I run fast and hard, I can forget the little human’s scent.
Chapter Seven
Madi
The next morning, I hit the ground running in new shoes with heels taller than the last pair. I’m going to prove I can walk and take dictation in them if it’s the last thing I do. Last night, I stayed late, researching the Adalwulfs. I need to know everything I can to make myself useful to Blackthroat. I met one of the janitors–Jerry–and we had a nice chat, at least until one of the executives threw me out. Apparently we’re not supposed to stay late on the top floor without an executive present, a rule I read in the employee handbook but didn’t believe. On Wall Street, hundred hour work weeks are the norm, right? But it makes sense that they want the executive floor locked down.
The executive who threw me out was Mr. Eagleton, Ruby Blackthroat’s husband and Moon Co.’s corporate counsel.
He was nice enough, especially after I told him about the Adirondack land that was potentially for sale. It was connected to another huge plot of wilderness, so I figured it would work well for a land corridor for wildlife.
When I showed it to Mr. Eagleton, he said, “Incredible. This is a gold mine. That land abuts…Madison, good work.”
So, of course, I had to research what the land abuts. Turns out, the other plot of wilderness is owned by none other than Odin Adalwulf, the patriarch of the Blackthroat family’s enemy.
The feud between families runs deeper than typical business backstabbing. Like Indira said, bad blood. Makes me want to dig more.
Detective Madi is on the case.
I stop at the drycleaners to pick up Blackthroat’s suit–the one I soaked–and as I leave, my phone buzzes in my hand. My mom sent a text–a picture of my brother Brayden in front of his dorm in an NYU sweatshirt. He’s so excited, she writes, as if I couldn’t tell from the triumph on his face. “Thank you for helping with his tuition.”
I walk into Moon Co. with a spring in my step. All the long hours are worth it if Brayden can get the same leg up I did.
Before I can tuck my phone away, my screen lights up with a call. Indira. “Vance just announced another emergency executive meeting.”
Of course he did. Because their poor planning becomes our emergency.
“Can you get their coffee orders?” she continues. “I emailed you the list.”
“On it.” I swivel before I reach the security check in and walk against the flow of suits streaming into work. The line at the coffee shop is around the block, so I search for another option. There’s a coffee shop from the same chain across the street, in the building opposite Moon Co. I say a prayer that I won’t have to swipe a badge or pass security to get to it.