Page 16 of Claimed By the Band

The raw honesty in his words catches me off guard. It's easy to forget sometimes that behind the glitz and glamor, these are real people.

I sigh, realizing he's not going to let this go until I give him something to do.

Who manages your fan mail?

ASHER: Our agent. Why?

Have it forwarded to this P.O. box. I want to be the one to go through it all from this point on.

I text him a screenshot of the address.

ASHER: You're taking on a lot of work for someone who doesn't want to be paid.

I snort.

It's a matter of personal interest.

ASHER: Oh? How so?

I’m really not willing to get into the complexities of my motivations with a virtual stranger. Even if that stranger is Asher fucking Wilde.

I’m busy.

ASHER: Alright, alright. I can take a hint. Thanks for all your hard work, Echo. You're our knight in shining... binary code?

I roll my eyes so hard it's a wonder they don't fall out of my head.

Goodbye, Asher.

ASHER: Catch you on the flip side, sexy hacker!

I set my phone down, shaking my head.

The guy's certainly... something.

Charming, in an over-the-top kind of way. I can see why he's got half the world eating out of the palm of his hand.

But charm isn't going to solve this case. And as much as I hate to admit it, doing all this from a distance is going to make things exponentially more difficult. There's only so much I can glean from security footage and police reports.

To really get to the bottom of this, I'd need to be on the ground, interviewing witnesses, following leads in person.

But that's not an option. It can't be. The risk is too great, the potential for exposure too high.

I instinctively rub the spot on my wrist, always hidden beneath my sleeve if not a watch or leather bracelets. A reminder of the past I want so badly to forget.

I've spent nine years building this life, crafting this persona. Nine years of carefully maintained distance, of never letting anyone get close enough to see past the facade. I'm not about to throw all that away now, no matter how intriguing the case might be.

No matter how compelling Asher Wilde and his pack of alpha rockstars might be.

I turn back to my laptop, determined to make the most of what I have. There has to be something here, some clue I'm missing. I just need to look harder, dig deeper.

The alphas across the room have quieted down, thankfully. I risk a glance in their direction, only to find the blond one staring at me. He winks when he catches my eye, and I have to resist the urge to flip him off.

I guess omegas aren't enough for some alphas.

Instead, I focus on the task at hand. The security footage may not show much, but maybe there's something in the background, some detail I've overlooked.

I scrub through the video again, paying close attention to the crowd this time. Most of the concertgoers are focused on the stage, their faces a mix of confusion and fear as the chaos unfolds. But there, in the back...

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