Page 8 of No Mane, No Gain

She leaned in closer to the camera, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

“Between you and me? I’m equal parts terrified and excited. But, hey, that’s what love is all about, right? Taking risks and putting yourself out there.”

Olive sat back, raising her wine glass in a toast to the camera.

“So here’s to new adventures in love. Wish me luck, romance lovers. I have a feeling I’m going to need it.”

She ended the recording and quickly edited the video before uploading it to her channel. Within minutes, comments started pouring in.

“OMG Olive! I can’t wait to see who Gerri sets you up with!”

“You go, girl! True love is out there waiting for you!”

“Gerri Wilder is a miracle worker. My cousin used her agency and now she’s married to the most amazing guy.”

Olive smiled as she scrolled through the supportive messages. For the first time in years, she felt a flicker of genuine hope about her romantic future.

THREE

The floor-to-ceiling windows of Chaos Amato’s office at AmTech’s headquarters offered a breathtaking panorama of San Francisco’s skyline. The early morning sun glinted off the sleek glass and steel structures, casting a golden glow across the city. Inside, the office hummed with cutting-edge technology - holographic displays, AI assistants, and prototype gadgets that wouldn’t hit the market for years.

Chaos stood at the window, his powerful frame silhouetted against the cityscape. At 6’3” with a muscular build honed by years of martial arts training, he cut an imposing figure. His tan skin and sharp features spoke to his Italian heritage, while his piercing hazel eyes scanned the horizon with the intensity of a predator surveying his territory.

He ran a hand through his short black hair, neatly trimmed and styled to perfection. The action revealed a glimpse of the tribal tattoos that snaked up his left arm, disappearing beneath the crisp white sleeve of his tailored shirt. A massive lion’s head adorned his bicep - a nod to his shifter nature and his role as leader of the Amiati Northern Pride.

Chaos turned from the window, his movements fluid and purposeful. He adjusted the cuffs of his charcoal-gray suit jacket- Armani, of course - and strode to his desk. The surface of the glass top lit up at his approach, displaying his schedule for the day.

“Good morning, Mr. Amato,” the AI assistant’s pleasant voice filled the room. “You have a board meeting at nine followed by a product development review at eleven. Your 1:00 p.m. lunch with the CFO has been moved to 2:00 p.m. at his request.”

Chaos grunted in acknowledgment. “Any messages?”

“Yes, sir. Your mother called twice this morning. She requested that you return her call at your earliest convenience.”

A flicker of annoyance crossed Chaos’s face. He knew exactly what his mother wanted to discuss, and he had no desire to have that conversation again. Still, Isabella Amato wasn’t a woman to be ignored.

With a resigned sigh, Chaos tapped the call icon on his desk. His mother’s face appeared on the holographic display, her elegant features and warm smile a stark contrast to Chaos’s stern expression.

“Caro mio!” Isabella’s melodious voice, tinged with a hint of her native Italian accent, filled the office. “I’m so glad you called back. I was beginning to think you were avoiding me.”

Chaos’s lips twitched in a wry smile. “Now why would you think that, Mamma?”

Isabella waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, don’t be coy with me, Chaos. You know very well why I’ve been trying to reach you. We need to discuss your dinner with Brielle.”

And there it was. Chaos’s jaw clenched, his grip on the edge of his desk tightening imperceptibly. “Mamma, we’ve been over this. I’m not interested in meeting Brielle or any other woman you and Papa have lined up for me.”

“Chaos Antonio Amato,” Isabella’s tone sharpened, all traces of playfulness vanishing. “You cannot keep putting this off. Thearrangement has been made, and it’s high time you started taking your responsibilities seriously.”

“My responsibilities?” Chaos’s voice remained level, but a dangerous edge crept in. “I run a multi-billion dollar tech company and lead one of the largest shifter prides in North America. I think I’ve got a handle on responsibility.”

Isabella’s expression softened. “Caro, I know how hard you work. Your father and I are so proud of everything you’ve accomplished. But there’s more to life than business success. You need a partner, someone to share your life with.”

“And you think some society princess you’ve picked out is going to be that partner?” Chaos couldn’t keep the bitterness from his voice.

“Brielle comes from an excellent family,” Isabella protested. “She’s well-educated, beautiful-”

“And completely wrong for me,” Chaos cut her off. “Mamma, I appreciate what you and Papa are trying to do, but I’m not going to marry someone just because it’s a good match on paper.”

Isabella sighed, a mixture of frustration and concern evident in her green eyes. “Chaos, you’re not getting any younger. Your father and I won’t be around forever, and we want to see you settled with a family of your own. The pride needs-”

---