Page 3 of Valentine's with the Cartel

As I stood there, lost in thought, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I glanced at the screen and frowned at the unfamiliar number. Probably another supplier trying to cut a deal or some low-level enforcer looking for favors. I almost ignored it, butsomething made me swipe to answer instead. It might be a mistake, but it was too late to think about that right now.

"Nightshade," I growled into the receiver, not bothering with pleasantries. There was no need.

There was a pause on the other end before a gruff voice came through. "Boss, we've got a problem, and it's a big one."

I stiffened, instantly alert. "What is it?"

"We just got word from the border. The fentanyl shipment... it's gone missing."

The words hit me like a physical blow and I gripped the phone tighter, my knuckles turning white. "What do you mean, gone missing?" I demanded. "How the fuck does a million dollars' worth of product just disappear?"

"I don't know, boss," the man on the other end replied, sounding shaken. "But we're looking into it. We'll find out what happened."

Well, he'd better find out. Otherwise, he wouldn't live for much longer.

"Not good enough," I snarled. "I want answers now. And when you find out who's responsible, I want them brought to me. Alive."

Alive, yes, because I wanted to make them regret what they did. And then, I'd end their lives.

I slammed the phone down before he could respond, my mind already racing with the implications of this news. A missing shipment meant a huge loss of revenue and potential retaliation from the other cartels who expected their cut. Not good, not good at all.

And more than that, it was a challenge to my authority. Someone had dared to steal from me, and that was a line that could not be tolerated. I would make an example out of them, that much was certain.

Striding out of the study, my jaw clenched with barely contained fury, I knew that the coming night was going to be long. There were calls to make, men to mobilize, and a traitor to hunt down.

But first, there was a wedding to attend. My wedding, to an omega I had never met. It was my choice, so there was nothing to think about.

The marriage was also a political move, one meant to solidify our alliance with another pack, and I had been putting it off for weeks. But now, as I headed out into the gathering dusk, I found myself looking forward to it even more than before.

And that was because I wanted that omega all for myself.

Striding through the darkened corridors of my estate, my mind was awhirl with thoughts of the upcoming wedding and the implications it held.

The marriage to this omega, Anan Ravenore, really was more than just a union of two individuals—it was a strategic move, one that would solidify my position within the cartel and forge a powerful alliance with his aunt's family. Maybe the omega didn't know this, but Mara Ravenore was a formidable figure in her own right, with connections and influence that stretched far beyond our borders. His parents had also had a lot of clout, but they were dead.

I had initially been hesitant to agree to this match, not wanting to be tied down by political maneuverings or familial obligations. But as the days passed and I considered the potential benefits, I realized that marrying Anan could be the key to securing my dominance over the cartel for years to come. Not to mention, I had grown obsessed with the omega. There was something about him that kept drawing me to him.

Mara's family was old money, with a pedigree that stretched back generations. By tying myself to them through marriage, I would not only gain access to their vast resources but alsocement my status as an alpha of the highest caliber. No one would dare challenge me then, knowing that I had the backing of such a powerful clan.

Something like the disappearance of the fentanyl order would never happen again. People would fear even the thought of doing something I didn't like.

At the same time, again, there was no denying the magnetism that kept drawing me to Anan. I had seen a photo of him once, a quick glance at an image on Mara's phone. He was young, years younger than me, with a delicate beauty that caught me off guard. I hadn't expected to feel a spark of interest, but there it was nonetheless.

It made me wonder if maybe he wasn't the one, but how would I know for sure? Not without talking to him face-to-face first. Until then, only a remote possibility remained.

Of course, I knew nothing about his personality or temperament. For all I knew, he could be a brat or a bore. But again, there was something about him that drew me in, a vulnerability in his eyes that made me want to protect him even as I wanted to claim him for my own. Both thoughts warred within me for control.

I shook my head, dispelling the wandering thoughts. This marriage was not about my personal desires but about power and prestige. I would do what needed to be done, just like always.

Still, as I entered the grand foyer where the wedding ceremony was set to take place, I couldn't help but feel a flicker of anticipation. Soon, I would meet Anan face-to-face and begin the process of making him mine in every way possible.

He possibly didn't like that was going to happen, but the marriage wasn't up to him. It was my decision.

Imagining him pinned beneath me made my dick twitch, and I straightened my shoulders, not thinking about the words Iwould say to him. It was nothing complicated. The marriage was just a formality. Once we were alone, what was truly important would begin.

But first, I had to deal with this fentanyl shipment problem. And it was going to be dealt with brutally, as always. That was my way of doing things, and no one could question that. It was the reason why everyone respected me so much.

Waiting outside now, my eyes narrowed as I watched the car pull up the drive, drawing to a halt in front of the steps that led up to the house's grand entrance.

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