Page 116 of The Packaged Deal

She gapes at me. “Sven did not tell me that.”

I flick her an amused glance. “All right, let’s have a look.” I load up my computer and dive into Jade’s mother’s medical file.

“What are you going to do?”

“Ah, well, that’s the not so legal part. I’m just going to change a couple of details, change her diagnosis to hysteria, add some personality disorders. Nothing too far from the truth. I’ll adjust her medication chart, put her on an antidepressant.”

“What does this mean?” Kandi asks, frowning down as I type into the computer.

“It means the next time she gets hysterical in public and the police are called, they will take her to a psychiatric ward and have her assessed, which I feel confident that she will fail. See, I’ve just put in that I’ve seen her three times. I’m now her treating doctor.”

“Adrian, this is evil.”

I smirk.

“I’m impressed.”

I shrug, pleased that she approves. “Being a doctor has its perks.”

She laughs and puts a hand on my shoulder. “Were you really going to bond her tonight?”

I tilt back in my chair and close my eyes. Regret lacing through me. “I really was.”

“You should still do it.”

My eyes snap open, and I look at her. “You think so? You don’t think she’s too distressed?”

“She needs that security. The knowledge that we mean it.”

“She needs it from you as well,” I point out to the beta.

Kandi inhales sharply. “I’ll think about it.”

“Let’s go see if she’s killed Sven yet, and then I can show her my surprise.”

“What surprise?”

I snort at her demand. “I’ll show you, too.”

I pause at the top of the stairs, looking back at the omega and beta following me. Kandi gives me a flat glare.

“If you’re taking us down to chop us into bits, I’ll have you know I have friends who will make you sorry,” Kandi warns me seriously.

I snicker. “Trust me.”

Jade looks up at me, but the happiness isn’t there. She’s still hurting. I need to fix that.

I turn and lead them down, stopping so I can see her expression when she gets halfway down.

She pauses on the steps, her eyes growing huge. “Adrian,” the way she breathes my name is magic.

I glance away from her and to the hundreds of candles I’ve lit. There’s a whole heap of blankets on the floor and about twenty pillows. I’ve got chocolate, strawberries, chocolate-coated strawberries, wine, water. This was what I had planned for tonight.

She gracefully floats down the bottom of the stairs and looks around. “You have a basement.”

“I do.”

“And it’s not a murder basement.”

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