It’s not nearly enough, but it’ll have to do for now.
My phone rings right after I park in the garage, and I groan, dreading whatever bullshit thing my father wants me to do now. But the name on the caller ID is much more welcome.
“Hey, Mia,” I say. “What’s up?”
“Saw a clip of your speech earlier. Nice touch with the whole ‘you’re the city’s real heroes’ bit.”
I smirk. “I might’ve laid it on a little thick.”
“It’s working. Between that and the social media accounts I’m running, the public is obsessed with you guys.”
“Do I want to know about these accounts?”
“Relax. Dutch helped me set up some bots to re-post anything positive the media says about you guys. We’re going with the hashtag Ley for your ship name. What do you think?”
“Subtle.”
She laughs. “What did the old man say about your performance today?”
“He was already buzzed when I got to the bar after, but he thought it was good for PR.”
“I bet he did. He still thinks all this is for him.” She snickers. “What a fucking idiot. The public already loves you guys. It has nothing to do with him.”
“Right now, I’m counting on him being slow on the uptake.”
“Speaking of which, how’s the alpha transformation coming?” she asks.
“Slow,” I say with a sigh.
“Maybe we need to give it a push.”
I don’t bother telling her the one holding it back most is sitting upstairs in my penthouse. Lexi’s secrets aren’t just weighing her down—they’re holding my wolf back. I’m not sure how much longer I can pretend she’s not lying to me. Especially after last night.
“Maybe,” I say. “Hey, did you hear back from Claire about the job reference?”
“Yeah,” Mia says. “She’s hired.”
I exhale. “Good. Tell her we’ll check in on her soon but to call if she needs anything else.”
Claire’s just the latest in a long line of girls Mia and I helped get back on their feet after pulling them from the claws of the monsters this city calls leaders. Claire was Trucker’s last victim, and the only thing I regret about killing him is doing it quickly. Hopefully, she can build a life for herself with this job at a local art gallery.
“Does your fiancée know you moonlight as a good Samaritan?”
“Nah. Ruins the image.”
She chuckles. “Yeah, same here. Hey, has your dad mentioned anything about Lexi’s medical history?”
“Why?”
“I had lunch with my dad today, hoping to get some intel, and I overheard him talking to Vincenzo about something to do with an illness Lexi had.”
I frown. “He called last night and asked if she’d ever been sick.”
“What did she say?”
“Once when she was a baby.”
“What was the diagnosis?”