Page 19 of Falling for My Shifter Boss

"Do you trust someone else to protect her better than you?" Sawyer's question is blunt, cutting through my brooding.

The answer comes without hesitation. "No."

"Then stop fighting it," Eli says. "You're all in, whether you admit it or not."

I turn back to face them, decision crystallizing. They're right. I've been holding back, letting fear dictate my choices. But Maya... she deserves more than my hesitation. She deserves everything.

Tonight, when I see Maya, I'm done holding back. She'll know exactly where we stand.

And may the gods help anyone who tries to come between us.

Chapter 9

Maya

The scent of roasted garlic and seared meat fills the catering kitchen as I inspect the latest round of samples. Chef Marcus slides another plate toward me—filet mignon, perfectly seared and glistening. My wolf perks up at the rich aroma, and I have to resist the urge to devour it whole.

"We've adjusted the seasoning as you suggested," Marcus says, his experienced eyes watching my reaction. "Less pepper to accommodate the enhanced senses of our shifter guests."

I take a careful bite, letting the buttery richness melt on my tongue. The meat is tender enough to satisfy even the most discerning supernatural palate, while the subtle blend of herbs won't overwhelm sensitive wolf noses. Perfect.

"This is exactly what we need," I say, jotting notes in my planner. "The vampires might not eat, but the shifters will appreciate this."

My mind drifts to the menu planning session with Adrian a few days ago. He'd insisted on being involved in every detail of the gala, looming over my shoulder as we reviewed options. I remember the way his breath caught when I'd reached past him for a menu, the electric tension that crackled between us.

Marcus's voice pulls me back to the present. "We'll have stations set up exactly as discussed—seafood here, carving station there." He gestures around the kitchen. "And the blood-wine bar will be separate, as requested."

I nod, checking another item off my list. The gala isn't just a corporate event anymore—it's a statement. A chance to show the supernatural community that we aren't just surviving, we're thriving. And somehow, I've become integral to making it happen.

My phone buzzes. Another message from Sawyer about security protocols. The hunters have everyone on edge, and Adrian's insisting on unprecedented precautions. Extra wards, enhanced patrols, background checks on every server and vendor. Part of me wants to call it paranoid, but after the recent attacks...

"The dessert course?" I prompt, pushing away darker thoughts.

Marcus grins, producing an elegant plate of dark chocolate mousse topped with gold leaf. "For our more traditional guests. And..." He reveals a second plate. "Blood orange sorbet for our vampiric attendees. A little culinary wordplay."

I can't help but smile. It's exactly the kind of detail that will help bridge the divide between species—something I've learned is crucial in my months at Blackwell Corp. When I first started, I thought Adrian's obsession with these details was controlling. Now I understand he sees what I couldn't: every choice is political, every detail matters.

This is the work I always wanted to do, even if I didn't know it while slinging hash browns at the diner. Making a real difference, helping build something lasting.

After approving the final menu items, I shake the chef’s hand and gather my things. My heels click softly against the tile floor as I weave through the back hall toward the exit.

I check my phone as I walk through the kitchen's back hallways. Several messages from Olivia flash across the screen:

**Olivia:** *Dress fitting at 3 tomorrow! Don't you dare be late.*

**Olivia:** *Also... so are we pretending you're NOT excited to see your broody boss tonight?*

I roll my eyes, fighting back a grin.

**Me:** *You're ridiculous.*

**Olivia:** *I'm right and you know it.*

A warm flutter settles in my stomach. She is right, damn her. The memory of the pack run floods back—Adrian's wolf, huge and powerful, running beside mine through moonlit woods.

My wolf pushes closer to the surface, remembering. Wanting.

I force myself to focus on my checklist. Flowers confirmed. Security briefing completed. Seating arrangements triple-checked to avoid any territorial disputes. Being Adrian's assistant means anticipating problems before they arise, and tonight has the potential for plenty.

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