The boardroom at Kane Enterprises felt like a gladiatorial arena at 9 AM on Monday morning.
I stood against the back wall in my role as head of security, watching twelve of the most powerful men in Los Angeles size each other up across the mahogany conference table. The weekend's revelations about synthetic curses and artificial Luna werewolves had left everyone on edge, but business still had to continue.
Alexander sat at the head of the table, projecting his usual Alpha authority despite everything we'd discovered about Damien's conspiracy. But I could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers drummed silently against his chair's armrest.
"Gentlemen," Alexander began, "I've called this emergency meeting to discuss recent security concerns affecting our operations."
