Series: Werewolves of Wall Street Series by Renee Rose
Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 66669 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66669 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
“Yeah, they grabbed a bunch of shares. When we take control, Aiden will have a vote, until we force him out.”
“Aiden Adalwulf,” Darius says slowly. “Isn’t he your cousin?”
“Yes.” Cousins, we were both ruthlessly groomed to lead a pack. The irony is Aiden Adalwulf is the one person on Earth in a position to understand the incredible pressure I’m under. Not that I’d ever admit a hint of weakness to him. One misstep, and he’d coolly slit my throat.
“You know what they’re saying about you, right?”
“Who?”
“The Adalwulfs. Their seeress has a new prophecy about you.”
I go cold. The Adalwulf pack has always had a seeress who advises the Alpha. Her prophecies have always given their pack an edge. “What?”
“Oh, you hadn’t heard? It’s something like, The Blackthroat king has a weakness. I assume that refers to you.”
The words hit me harder than any of his previous punches, but I’m careful to keep my expression blank.
The prophecy is obviously about me and Madison. Fuck.
“I need to get to the office.”
“You need to go for a run. Let your wolf out.” There’s sober concern on Darius’ face.
If I were smart, I’d take his friendly advice and head right back to the Berkshires.
But I have to see her.
Madi
Monday morning, Brick steps off the elevator looking…different. His hair is still wet, like he just showered, and he has an aggressive edge to him. Like the four-day weekend had the opposite effect of a normal man’s vacation. He definitely didn’t return relaxed.
I predict at least three people will get fired today.
Hopefully, I won’t be one of them.
His nostrils flare as he stalks in and heads straight for me.
If I were an employee less confident in my work, I’d already be packing my things in a box based on his murderous look.
But instead of tearing into me, he slams a Starbucks cup down on my desk. Well, as much as one can slam a paper cup.
The phone is ringing, so I quickly answer it while holding Blackthroat’s gaze. “Mr. Blackthroat’s office, please hold.” I press the hold button and drop the receiver into the cradle.
“Good morning, sir.” I go with smooth and professional.
Not, I-just-fucked-the-boss-this-weekend.
He glowers at me but seems short on words. Instead, he picks up the coffee cup and moves it closer to me.
I stare up at him with shock. Did he actually buy me a coffee? I rotate the cup to read the label. It’s a vanilla latte. The Big Bad Boss brought me coffee. Color me…shocked?
“I have to smell it every day,” he says dryly, like my coffee choice offends him.
I had a game plan today–to play it professional. I was prepared for him to either do the same or to act overly-familiar, at which point I would initiate a conversation about us returning to boss-employee relations.
What I didn’t plan on was this…weird…behavior.
“You’re staying.” He practically snarls it. Like we were having an argument, and this is his rebuttal.
I pick up the coffee. “You bought me a coffee to make sure I don’t quit?” As far as gestures go, it’s pretty meager, and I let that opinion leak into my tone.
“No.” He looks grim. This is definitely his you’re-getting-fired face.
Nothing makes sense this morning.
He looks down at the coffee like he has absolutely no idea how it got there. “The coffee is…” –he gives an impatient jerk of his head– “I don’t know what the coffee is for, but you’re staying. I need you–as my assistant. Understood?”
Why do I feel like I’m getting spanked by the boss instead of praised? I pride myself on reading my employer, but this morning, I’m at a complete loss.
“I’m here, aren’t I?” I pick up the coffee and take a sip, holding his dark gaze. “Sir.”
Blackthroat makes a low growling sound in his throat, turns on his heel, and heads into his office without further comment.
“Thanks for the coffee, Big Bad,” I snark under my breath.
I swear I hear him say “You’re welcome” from the other side of the door, but that would be impossible because there’s no way he could hear me from in there.
I pick up the phone. “Thank you for holding, how may I help you?”
“Oh Madi, good. I’m glad you’re there. It’s Ruby Blackthroat.”
“Oh, hi! Sorry to keep you holding. Br–er, Mr. Blackthroat–just walked in.”
“I’m actually calling for you.” Ruby’s voice is warm, like we’re friends now. Like I’m not just the help anymore. “I wanted to make sure you were okay after nearly going into hypothermia on Thanksgiving.”
Well, that’s nice. At least someone in the Blackthroat family acts like a normal human being.
“I am. I’m fine, thank you. And it was great to get home in time to have pie with my family that night. Sorry I didn’t say a proper goodbye. I was sort of hustled out when there was a break in the weather.”