Page 50 of A Promise of Forever
"Formal charges have been filed," Draven says, pulling out a tablet and scrolling through what looks like legal documents. "Wilson is claiming you kidnapped Sterling through coercion and manipulation. He's provided testimony from several officers who claim they witnessed Sterling in distress during your encounter at the Night of Scarlet. He's requesting that you be brought in for questioning and that Sterling be placed in protective custody pending investigation."
“That's complete bullshit. Sterling came to me voluntarily. He was running from Wilson, not from me."
"I know that, and you know that," Draven offers, his tone unnervingly calm. "But Wilson has painted a very compelling picture for the authorities. He's claiming that Sterling was vulnerable and traumatized when you took advantage of him, that any bond mark placed without proper consent during a heat-induced state of impaired judgment should not be recognized."
Rage floods through my system so completely that I have to force myself to breathe through it. The idea that anyone could think I would force Sterling into anything makes me want to tear down the entire legal system with my bare hands.
"We're going to have a difficult road ahead," Draven continues, his expression sympathetic but realistic. "Wilson has connections within the police department and, apparently, some judges who are willing to hear his case despite the obvious bias. He's leveraging his position as a law enforcement officer to maximum effect."
Caelan steps forward, his own anger visible in the tension of his shoulders. "I also called in some backup because this goes farther than just attesting to your claim on Sterling. This is about a power struggle that Wilson is eventually going to lose, but right now he has the upper hand through institutional support."
I frown as movement catches my attention. One of the house staff opens the back door, this time allowing three more people to step into the courtyard. I recognize them immediately: Moses St. Clair, his Alpha mate, Ames, and Lorcan bringing up the rear.
The St. Clairs are one of the most powerful families running security in the region, with connections that span both legitimate and criminal enterprises.
Just a few years ago, they were little more than one large building working for a handful of powerful families, but they've since expanded, their name almost synonymous with security detail.
Moses is a Valla like me, with the kind of ruthless intelligence that's built his empire. Ames is both brains and logic, Moses’ Valla brother, Hunter, noticeably absent.
"What do I owe the honor?" I ask, genuinely surprised that they've shown up personally rather than just providing information through intermediaries.
Moses extends his hand for a firm shake. "Your brother reached out when you were otherwise occupied. We've been doing some digging into Wilson's background and activities for other reasons and so our interests are pretty well aligned."
"What do you have for me?"
Moses' expression darkens with something that looks like disgust. "It seems that Wilson has had his hands in quite a few pots over the years. He's been known to have issues with his Omegas, though he's been very careful about keeping those incidents from becoming official reports. Multiple complaints that mysteriously disappeared, hospital visits that were explained away as accidents."
The information confirms what I already suspected about Wilson's character, but hearing it laid out so clinically makes my rage burn hotter.
"Know anything about someone called Thatcher?" Moses asks casually, watching my reaction carefully.
"What the absolute fuck?" The words explode from me before I can filter them. "Thatcher is supposedly the name of the drug dealer who's been operating in my club. The one we've been trying to track down for months."
Moses snorts, mild satisfaction filling his features. "Apparently, this fucker has gone by quite a few names. Wilson, Thatcher, Gideon, maybe others we haven't uncovered yet. He uses different identities to compartmentalize his various criminal activities, keeping each operation separate enough that connecting them is nearly impossible."
"Thatcher is Wilson?" I'm reeling from the implications. "So the drug problems in my establishment, the Omega who was assaulted, all of that traces back to the same bastard who was abusing Sterling?" Not that the St. Clairs would know about all of that. I have no idea how much Caelan told them.
"That's our working theory," Ames confirms, pulling out his own documentation. "Caelan gave us a rough rundown of everything. We haven't found concrete proof yet that would hold up in court, but the circumstantial evidence is compelling. The timeline of when Thatcher supposedly physically appears in the area matches when Wilson is given jobs in this particular partof the city. The physical descriptions from various witnesses are consistent, although vague. And the pattern of targeting Omegas is identical."
Draven looks between all of us, his legal mind clearly working through how to weaponize this information. "If we can prove that Wilson is behind the drug trafficking, we can flip this entire narrative. Suddenly, he's not a concerned officer trying to rescue an Omega from a criminal. He's a dirty cop using his badge to cover his own illegal activities."
"But proving it is going to be challenging," Moses cautions. “Wilson has been very careful about maintaining separation between his identities. We need something concrete that ties them together undeniably."
I nod, understanding the problem. "So what's our immediate strategy? Wilson has filed charges and is demanding I show up at the precinct for questioning."
Draven cuts in again. "You're not showing up at that precinct, not unless they come to arrest you with an actual warrant. Right now, this is just a ploy to get you off your game and on their territory. A lesser man would fold under the pressure and walk right into Wilson's trap."
"Sterling is mine now anyway," I say, letting some of my possessive satisfaction show. "We completed the bond during his heat. There's a bite mark and everything. That gives me legal standing as his mate regardless of what Wilson claims."
Caelan grins widely. "You always did work fast when you finally decided you wanted something. No half measures from you."
The comment triggers a round of laughter that helps cut through some of the tension.
"I've got an Omega to get back to," I say, glancing toward the cottage where I can sense Sterling sleeping peacefully. "And Ineed to figure out a way out of this situation that doesn't involve Sterling being traumatized further."
"You have more than just yourself to rely on, brother," Caelan reminds me. "You've got our entire organization backing you, and the St. Clairs as well."
Moses and Ames both nod their confirmation. "You have us and our resources," Moses says. "But we do have a certain Omega of ours who told us that if we weren't home by lunch, we're not getting fed. And trust me, you don't want to face Koa when she's decided to withhold food as punishment."
