Page 26 of Billionaire Wolf Needs a Chef

A photo lit up my screen, pallets of CCC meal kits packed and ready to go, swarming with rats. It was impossible of course, our packing warehouses were practically lab grade clean rooms. Our employees had to go through three rounds of sanitation before entering the facility. It was obvious those rats were planted by Boris's henchmen.

"Imagine this leaking out online tomorrow. It would go viral in hours. Cam's Comfy Cuisine, now with extra vermin. Your stock would crater by Monday's opening bell. That new product launch of yours is going to be as effective as pissing into the wind."

My jaw tightened. "Name your price."

"Oh, I don't want money. Not anymore. I want something much more valuable. I want you to watch your empire burn. Starting with her."

Ice shot through my veins. "If you lay a finger on her—"

"What?" Boris interrupted, his voice dripping with menace. "What will you do, Fitzgerald? You're already on thin ice. One wrong move and I'll make sure you lose everything. Including her."

My phone buzzed as I received another photo. This time, it was a zoomed-in picture of Ivy, still asleep in my bed. The detail on the photo was so crisp that I could even see my claiming bite mark on her neck.

My wolf surged forward, claws tearing through my fingertips."If you go near her—"

The line went dead, leaving me staring at the phone, my hand trembling with rage. The threat was clear, Ivy was in danger, and it was because of me.

My vision turned black at the edges. The world narrowed to a single, blood-soaked point. I stared at the picture of Ivy sleeping in my bed her hair fanned across my pillows.

I shoved the phone into my pocket and stood, pacing the room as my mind raced. Boris had made his move, and now Ivy was a target. The thought of her getting hurt because of me was unbearable, and my wolf growled in protest, desperate to protect her.

My canines punched down, a snarl building in my throat. But where there should've been mindless rage, there was only cold clarity.

Mine to protect. Mine to lose.

I flexed my hands, marveling at the control. This was what they meant about bonded alphas. The wolf wasn't tamed. It was focused.

My phone buzzed. Ivy's name flashed with a text: "You owe me five minutes. Plus interest."

I let out a frustrated roar.

Brody didn't flinch. "We'll triple her security. Move her to the penthouse full-time."

"No." My claws ripped grooves into the edge of my desk. "Boris has eyes everywhere. Even my inner circle could be compromised."

A growl built in my chest as I pulled up the warehouse photo again. The rat photo had been taken from inside the secured loading zone. Either my security had been defeated or someone on my payroll was working for Boris.

On my desk, my phone screen glowed with Ivy's text. She had no idea how much danger she was in.

"Call Denver," I ordered. "Tell him I'm calling in a favor as a wolf."

Brody's eyes widened. "You're invoking pack law."

"Now." My command came as Brody's alpha.

As Brody left, I opened the hidden safe behind the framed check for the first order sold by the company. There were only two things inside, a treasured photo of me and my mother at my high school graduation before the cancer ate her alive, and a gun loaded with wolfsbane-laced bullets.

I pocketed the gun and traced my mother's smile. She'd fought for me to have a better life until her last breath. I wasn't going to let her down now.

The drive home took three lifetimes. Every second Ivy was unprotected scraped my nerves raw. As soon as the penthouse door clicked shut behind me, I exhaled, rolling the tension from my shoulders. The scent of fresh coffee and something sweet, wrapped around me, a stark contrast to the storm raging in my mind.

Standing at the kitchen island, with her back to me, she hummed softly as she whisked batter in a bowl. She wore only one of my white shirts. It was so big that it hung loosely off one of her shoulders and the hem landed at mid-thigh. I growled, both from the possessiveness that roared to life in my chest, and the stark proof of her vulnerability. For a single moment, I let myself pretend everything was normal. That we were just two people in love, starting an ordinary day.

Then she turned and her smile died when she saw my face. The bowl clattered against the granite counter. "You look like you're about to declare war. What happened?"

I didn't smile. Couldn't. She was going to hate me for what I was about to do.

Her brows knit together. "Cameron?"

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