Page 7 of Billionaire Wolf Needs a Writer

Sleep was a lost cause after meeting Ariel Hayes.She asked all the right questions, pushing me harder than anyone had in years.And her smile?It was infuriatingly knowing, like she held some secret power over me.I wasn’t used to being challenged like that, and it left me feeling restless and annoyed, my wolf clawing beneath the surface.

I walked into my office and threw my jacket on the back of a chair.Ariel’s notes from the meeting glared at me from the desk.I picked up the top sheet and scanned through it.

Sterling Nightfang: A man who built an empire to escape his past, but his past is catching up with him.

My jaw tightened at how accurately she summed up my situation.

The elevator doors swung open, breaking me out of my reverie.I checked the clock.It was 7:30 a.m.She was early.

Ariel stepped into the doorway.She carried two cups, one in each hand, and a paper bag that smelled like freshly baked pastries.Her attire was casual today, dark jeans that hugged her legs and a soft loose sweater.

Seeing her again sent a jolt through me.My wolf stirred, but I quickly schooled my features into a scowl.

She was shorter than I remembered.Perhaps it was the way she carried herself, all warmth and unapologetic presence, that made her seem larger than she was.The sweater slipped off one shoulder, revealing a freckled collarbone I had no business noticing.Her hair, that wild blonde mess, was tamed into a braid today, but a few stubborn tendrils had already escaped, framing her face as if she had just rolled out of bed.Christ.I couldn’t think about her like that.And those purple-rimmed glasses sitting slightly crooked on her face made her gray eyes look even bigger, like she was perpetually caught between surprise and amusement.

It was irritating.

And worse, it was distracting.

“Morning,” she said cheerfully, setting the coffee cups on my desk.“I brought fuel.”

The paper bag rustled as she placed it next to the cups.My nose twitched.I could almost taste the buttery, flaky pastries inside.Toasted almonds.Butter.Sugar.My stomach growled traitorously, and I scowled deeper, as if it were her fault my body was betraying me.

I raised an eyebrow.“I don’t drink coffee.”

She smirked, sliding one of the cups toward me.“You’re a liar.I saw the empty espresso cup in the trash yesterday.”

I stared at her, caught off guard, my pulse quickening.The scent of her perfume, something green and fresh, filled my nostrils.“You went through my trash?”My voice came out harsher than I intended, echoing slightly in the quiet room.

“Not intentionally,” she said with a shrug.“But I’m observant.”She gestured to the steaming cup in her hand, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee rich and inviting.“And you look like you could use it.”Her eyes flicked to mine, a small smile playing on her lips.

I grunted, reluctantly taking the cup.The warmth seeped into my palms and I took a cautious sip.The coffee was good, strong and bitter.Just the way I liked it.The heat traveled down my throat, warming me from the inside out.

“Alright, Hayes,” I said, setting the cup down on the desk.“What’s the plan for today?”

She pulled out her notebook, the pages rustling as she flipped it open with practiced ease.My nose picked up the scent of bleached paper and the sweet smell of ballpoint ink, mingling with the coffee.“We’re diving deeper,” she said firmly.

She tapped her pen against the page.Her eyes gleamed with determination.“Yesterday, you gave me the polished version.Today, I want the why.I want the raw, unfiltered truth.”Her pen hovered over the paper, ready to capture every word.

I stiffened.“The why?”

“Why you played through with the broken rib.Why you built this empire.Why you’re letting me poke at your life when you clearly hate it and every muscle is twitching to throw me out of your office.”Her gaze didn’t waver, and I could see the gears turning in her head, the curiosity and determination that drove her.She wasn’t just asking.Ariel was digging, searching for something, and I wondered what she hoped to find.“People don’t care about what you did, Sterling.They care about what it cost you.”

The hairs on the back of my neck rose up.I could’ve shut her down.I should’ve, by all accounts.It was what I usually did when people got too nosy, too personal.But there was something about her, something different.Earnestness.That’s what it was.The quiet certainty in her voice made me hesitate.It made me want to consider her words instead of dismissing them outright.

I leaned back in my chair, studying her.The way she held herself, the set of her jaw, the glint in her eyes.The top of her head didn’t even come past my chest but here she was, challenging me.I couldn’t help but admire her for it.“You’re pushy,” I said, a hint of amusement in my voice despite myself.

“And you’re evasive.”She grinned, unrepentant.“Guess we’re at a stalemate.”

A reluctant smirk tugged at my lips.“Fine.”I exhaled sharply, rolling my shoulders.“The why is simple.Control.”

She scribbled a note, then glanced up.“Explain.”

I flexed my hand, the old ache in my knuckles flaring."On the pitch, I decided the game.In business, I decide the rules.I cut myself off, but Ariel didn’t press.She just waited, her silence more compelling than any question.

“The Nightfangs don’t play by rules,” I said at last.“They take.They destroy.I won’t be like them.”

Her pen stilled.“So you built something they couldn’t touch.”

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