Page 7 of Pack Obsession

"Speaking of our illustrious client." Logan leans forward, elbows on his knees. "Anyone else think it’s weird how specific he was about the capture parameters?"

I sit up, remembering the cold smile on Julian’s face during our briefing. The way he described exactly how we shouldhandlehis Omega as roughly as we needed. The predatory gleam in his eyes when we discussed potential risks.

"You mean the part where he seemed disappointed we wouldn’t rough her when he asked us to?"

"Exactly." Logan rolls his shoulder. "Most clients who hire us to retrieve people want them unharmed. Julian practically got hard at the thought of her getting hurt."

"Maybe he’s into that kind of thing," Nash suggests, but his frowning expression says he’s not convinced. His fingers fly over the keyboard as he works. "Some Alphas like their Omegas a little broken."

"No." The word comes out as a growl, surprising even me. Both of them look over, and I force myself to relax. The rage that’s simmering under my skin threatens to boil over. "Something’s off about this whole thing. The way he talks about her, as if she’s property who ran away rather than his fated mate."

"Since when do you care about Omega rights?" Nash’s tone is careful, probing.

"I don’t. I do. Fuck you." Even as I say it, I remember the defiance in her gaze as she fought us. The way she protected her friends, trying to draw us away from them. Not exactly the behavior of an Omega desperately in need of rescue or one to put up with a man like Julian.

Nash shrugs and pulls up the schematics on his center screen, something about document retrieval from a secured facility. I’m only half listening as he details security positions and access points to Logan, who joins him. They’re already on another topic of order—our next job.

My mind keeps drifting to the Omega sleeping upstairs, to the fire in her eyes even as the sedative took hold. To the bruise on her cheek and the terror in her voice when she saw the Nexus guard. To Julian’s cold smile and carefully manicured hands that have never seen a day of honest work. To my sister, who I lost all those years ago to such men.

Nash’s fingers dance across his keyboard, multiple screens casting a blue glow across his face. "The Muso brothers sentthrough the plans," he says, pointing to various spots on the blueprint that dominates his center monitor. "Initial survey looks clean."

I finally go and join them, studying the layout.

"Security’s tighter than it should be for a simple document retrieval." Nash pushes his glasses up. "Guards here and here." His finger traces two points. "Building system needs to be dismantled. Should be an easy job—twenty grand for some paperwork to be retrieved."

I crack my knuckles. "Should?"

Logan flops down on one of the chairs. "Layout?"

"Three floors, underground parking." Nash pulls up another schematic. "Guards in the foyer 24/7. Side entrance here," he points to a narrow corridor. "But it’s manned by two armed guards in constant communication with the front."

"Communication patterns?" Logan’s gone into tactical mode, his gray eyes sharp.

"Regular check-ins every fifteen minutes. Can’t just take them out quietly and move on. We’ll need a distraction. And one of us will stay there and respond to the front team."

"No deaths," I remind them, though I don’t need to. It’s our one rule, the line we won’t cross. We find things, we retrieve things for people, we even occasionally acquire things through questionable means, but we don’t kill.

"Never said anything about deaths." Nash’s lips quirk. "But we’ll need something big enough to draw attention without raising alarms. Maybe if we?—"

Logan opens his mouth to respond but is cut off by his phone ringing.

"Julian!" Logan’s voice is neutral as he answers, but I see his knuckles whiten around the phone. "Yeah?" His tone shifts to that neutral tone he uses with clients he doesn’t trust. "There’s been a complication... No, we don’t have her yet." His jawtightens. "With all due respect, Mr. Hayes, calling us so quickly could draw unwanted attention… That was the agreement."

His lips pinch as he listens to the asshole on the phone.

"We do this our way or not at all. Don’t call again. We’ll contact you when it’s done." A muscle jumps in his jaw. "We keep our word. Make sure you keep yours."

He hangs up, and the silence in the room is heavy enough to choke on.

"So, you have doubts, too, then?" I ask.

"Fucker wanted to know why we haven’t delivered his Omega yet." Logan’s gray eyes darken as he stares at the phone like it might bite him. "I don’t trust him, either." He meets my gaze.

A chill runs down my spine as I remember the way Julian’s perfect white teeth flashed when he described how his Omega needed to be taught some lessons. A similar phrase I heard from the men who took my sister. My gut hardens, fury racing through my veins.

"We’re not handing her over until we speak with her," I say, surprised by the steel in my own voice.

"Agreed." Logan nods, and I see the soldier in him, the one who still believes in protecting the innocent. "She’s safe upstairs. She’s not going anywhere until we figure this out."

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