Page 127 of Villainous Fate

“Will the shipment be ready for transport on Saturday for drop-off by Monday?” I ask, pretending I paid full attention to his rambling. Miami has been moving weapons from the coast up to New York on the East Coast and west through our territory to Seattle and LA.

After I arranged to have Frank move down to be our liaison with the Amato pack, we established a profitable trade arrangement. Weapons, drugs, girls—it didn’t matter. We provided shipment across state lines through our cargo division, which took me all of eight months to acquire.

I made my first million dollars before turning twenty-five, and I’d secured alliances with at least one pack in each state to ensure we had passage wherever we needed.

“Tuesday at the earliest,” he responds, giving me pause.

“Why can’t we make the deadline we promised?” I asked, my tone less than friendly. I prided myself on being able to deliver.

He looks nervous before continuing, and I pull on our bond to see if he is telling me the truth. Anxiety floods his emotions, and I wait for his explanation.

“We could get there, but we’d have to go through Vegas…”

“No.” I cut him off. “I’ll call Dom and sweeten the deal. Tuesday.” I say, not leaving any room for discussion.

I hadn’t spoken tohimsince that day.

The day he walked out and took her with him.

He’d taken over the Vegas Pack three months after returning home. I’d heard rumors over the years about his pack, but I’d never allowed myself to seek any information about him or his business dealings. People assumed we hated each other, so most didn’t discuss him with me.

“Anything else?” I ask, irritation slipping into my tone at the mere thought of him.

“Have you decided on the Fallon deal?” he asks tentatively.

The Fallon deal…. What a cluster fuck.

“Did they send over the final contracts?” I ask, knowing what a huge undertaking it will be. Mostly for us. But also knowing that taking this would elevate our pack to one of the top seated in the country.

“Early this morning, I think we have an opportunity here, Alpha,” he responds, moving the red folder to the top of the pile on my desk.

“I’ll look them over. Send a copy to Hendrix in legal to verify our risk level,” I order before dismissing him.

I want nothing to do with Fallon. It's a money grab at leading human trafficking coast to coast, with a focus on “specialty species.” So, it is not just humans but vampires, witches, fae, other shifter breeds, and even our kind.

The black market contract was posted four days ago, and I intentionally ignored it. My Second Vincent and his Cousin Tony brought it to me yesterday, and the coalition of Alphas attempting to implement it reached out last night.

Everyone wants us for this.

And that’s suspicious.

I’ll delay it another day. They think we need this for clout, but we’re doing just fine without it, and I, for one, don’t want to be the number one target of every other supernatural creature in the country.

To protect my pack, we will politely decline.

Over the years, I’ve gotten into some dark shit that younger me wouldn’t be proud of, but risking everyone in my pack is going too far. There’s a reason no one else is jumping on this.

I spent the rest of the day working with Vinny on a protocol for training our new recruits—intake, processing, housing, training, assignments, everything. We finished just after eight, and I called down to see if Bernadette was still working so I could have one of her grilled cheese sandwiches.

To this day, it's still my favorite, and it is the only thing I allow myself to drift down memory lane with.

Everything else is tainted.

Walking back to my room, I review my schedule for tomorrow. I'm meeting with Frank about transferring four betas from Miami to Reno for a special transport later this month. I'm also having a phone call with Massimo because we’re increasing our imports from the Spanish coast, and the Celenti pack is going to facilitate our international expansion.

Pain. Overwhelming has me hunching over, nearly kneeling on the floor. I focus on the source, trying to identify where it’s coming from, pulling each string until I reach it.

Ashley.

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