Page 62 of Pack Obsession

“Let me be crystal clear.” My words deepen. “I see right through you, Julian. The offshore accounts, themisplacedevidence, the convenient accidents. You’re not as untouchable as you think.”

His jaw tightens, a microscopic tell, but I catch it.

“I’ve buried better men than you,” I continue, savoring how his composure cracks. “And unlike them, you’re sloppy. Desperate. Keep treading water if you want, but remember… sharks can smell fear.”

Julian’s shoulders jut back. “Is that a threat, Sullivan?”

“No.” I smile, all teeth. “That’s a professional courtesy. One you won’t get twice.”

The silence stretches like a tripwire. Julian’s shoulders bunch up.

“Get the fuck out.”

We leave, our footsteps echoing through his office like gunshots.

In the elevator, neither of us makes a sound. Outside, a block away from where we parked, Nash pulls out his phone.

“I’m calling Axel. We’re going to move Casey somewhere safe today. We knew this might happen so we’ve got our plan to move set.”

“And her brother we didn’t take into consideration,” I add. “She’ll be devastated if anything happens.”

Nash grimly nods as he punches in the number, then waits. “Fucking pick up. Hell, it’s going to voicemail,” he mumbles, then his expression tightens. “Axel, extraction plan in motion now. Code Red.” He glances at me, jaw tight. “Julian.” He ends the message, knuckles white around the phone. “Try him again in a few.”

I slam my fist against the steering wheel once we climb inside. “Did you see Julian’s face? He knows we have her. I made the mistake of assuming we had time to move her, that he didn’t know we had her. Should have done it already.”

“Maybe he’s just fishing…”

“No.” The memory of Julian’s smirk burns in my mind. “He knows. I saw it in his eyes. That cocky bastard thinks he’s got us cornered.”

Nash runs a hand through his hair. “Then we move today.”

“We’re picking up her brother first,” I admit, pissed at myself for missing the ball on this, of letting my head get swayed with Casey instead of being on the mark. Fuck!

“Got the spare sedan in the underground lot on Seven all ready for us,” Nash adds. “My contact at the traffic control center is waiting for my signal. Everything is set up.”

He’s already dialing.

I drive us into traffic as Nash gives me direction to her brother’s place. And we’re now racing against time.

The black SUV that pulls out farther behind us looks oddly familiar, following us from a distance. Fucking Julian’s men.

Axel

The pancake batter sizzles as it hits the griddle, filling the kitchen with a warm, sweet scent. Morning light streams through the windows, glinting off the knife nearby. I’m on my third batch when I hear her soft footsteps on the stairs. My body responds instantly to her presence, sparking alive, my cock throbbing even before she steps into the doorway, sleep-rumpled and wearing one of Nash’s oversized t-shirts.

“You cook?” Casey blinks at me, her voice still rough with sleep.

She drops onto one of the barstools at the counter, drawing her legs up under her, and fuck if the sight of her there doesn’t feel right in ways I can’t explain. Like she’s always belonged here.

“Don’t sound so surprised.” I flip a pancake perfectly. “Someone had to feed these other two. Nash would practically live on eggs and toast if he had his way. Logan never has the time.”

She props her chin on her hand, watching me work. There’s something different about her this morning, a new confidencemaybe. Nash’s fucking her and knotting in her has changed something.

“I just pictured you more as a protein shake kind of guy. You know, all muscles and meal prep.”

I chuckle and slide a plate in front of her, perfectly golden pancakes drowned in syrup, just as I like them. “Though if you tell anyone I own an apron, we’re going to have problems.”

Her laugh is like sunlight. “Your secret’s safe with me. Though I have to ask, where did you learn to cook?”

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