Page 9 of Fated to the Enemy Alpha

He was referring to the fact that Ashford Corporation was threatening to pull out of our partnership. Here we go again, I told myself. It’s time to smooth over any ruffled feathers while ensuring Magnus comes out on top, no matter how little he deserves it.

“I’m glad you both came,” I said smoothly. “My father’s actually put me in charge of renegotiation tomorrow. Perhaps you can share some of your ideas with me after dinner?”

Caleb looked surprised but visibly relaxed as he said, “I’d be glad to.”

As always, I maneuvered through business with a calm and charming demeanor. I remained focused, telling myself that in the future, when I was the head of Blackthorn Pack and our business, I wouldn’t screw the other New York packs over like Caleb’s, who, unfortunately, was a nice guy and didn’t deserve the underhanded tactics we were employing. But the same burning desire that had consumed me kept me steady now. Soon, I would pull the rug out from under Magnus. It was maintaining this façade of dutiful son and beta and sacrificing my own moral compass that was going to allow that.

Suddenly, the scent of jasmine pulled my attention, sharp and alluring. I scanned the crowd, keeping my expression neutral as emotions churned just below the surface.

Then, amidst laughter and banal chatter, my breath caught. A figure across the terrace struck me—golden hair shimmering under the lights, a confident posture that sent recognition prickling over me.

I froze, the world fading in a blur of noise and color as disbelief surged within me, my heart pounding like thunder.

Excusing myself from Caleb, I found my grip on reality slipping as I strode along the terrace, my gaze landing on a slender beauty in a long lavender evening dress, her bright stare fixed on the sea view.

Am I dreaming? How is Lina here?

Chapter 4

Lina

The afternoon sunshine painted patterns across the living room of my Philadelphia villa, chasing away the morning chill.

My daughter, Betty, a whirlwind of pink tulle pirouetted across the sheepskin rug.

“Look Mommy! Look. I’m a bird!” she shouted, arms outstretched.

The memory of Swan Lake, the ballet we’d seen last month, still held her captive. I had bought her the cutest little ballet shoes, and she kept trying to point her toes, sending her stumbling onto the soft sheepskin rug. But every day, she got steadier.

I clapped, smiling. “Beautiful, Sweetie. As graceful as a swan, nearly.” The “nearly” might have been overly generous, given the wobbles, but her face, alight with fierce determination, stole my heart.

The memory of my own mother surfaced, her voice, soft as a summer breeze, using the story of Swan Lake to help me understand my shifter heritage. “Just like the princess, one day you’ll change too. You see, we’re wolves, Lina, who can change whenever we want to.” A pang broke through me. It had been five years since the day I’d lost her and my father, and although I’d built a new life, her loss was most apparent in these beautiful, seemingly everyday moments when it hurt to think she’d never see her granddaughter.

“Mommy, I’s flying,” Betty called out as she threw her arms out wide and twirled.

“Magnificent!” I enthused, my own thoughts drifting. Betty’s joy, her embracing the story and magic, was a gift from my mother, a legacy. I imagined explaining her own shifter abilities using the story of Swan Lake, just as my mother had. The thought both soothed and stung.

I turned my gaze out the picture window. The world outside, with its twenty acres and quiet luxury, felt a million miles removed from the concrete heart of New York. Yet, I’d never taken my hand off the city’s pulse.

From here in Citrus Hill, I monitored Magnus Blackthorn and his company’s dealings. I’d built a network of wellness products, a company called Luna Remedies. We were dedicated to the ethical practice of using herbal and natural remedies. To the major pharma players, including Blackthorn Corp, we weren’t a company worth looking at. But I had built a secret empire underneath. Blackthorn didn’t know the wealth and information I was acquiring. My business was built on grey-market dealings.

Each day, I reminded myself that my journey with Blackthorn wasn’t over. From the rumors my team and I had collected, the consensus was that Magnus had organized the attack of the rogue wolves at our mate ceremony, meaning to do away with the Silvermoon Pack alpha, luna, and its heir in one fell swoop. We hadn’t found proof, but Magnus had snatched control of the Silvermoon Pack after my parents had been killed and believed I was gone. But I was like a vengeful ghost, gathering my strength and biding my time. The past remained alive, and the flames of vengeance still burned within me.

“I’s tired,” Betty said, collapsing on the rug.

“Nap time, Swanling,” I said gently, smoothing her hair.

“No!” she protested.

“But don’t you want to snuggle up and read Swan Lake?”

The magic word!

Betty danced toward the child gate at the bottom of the stairs. I lifted her into my arms, carrying her upstairs. Within minutes of starting the story, she was asleep in her bed.

Ballet really is a godsend.

I secured the safety gate at the top of the stairs, hoping to get a couple of hours of work done before she woke.

---