I was barely through the door of my tiny studio apartment when I smelled him.
Alexander's scent hit me like a physical force - expensive cologne mixed with something wild and predatory that made my pulse spike. He was here. In my space. The one place I should have been safe from his overwhelming presence.
"Hello, Sarah."
I spun around, my hand instinctively reaching for the knife concealed in my purse, but froze when I saw him. Alexander sat in my only chair like he owned it, like he owned everything in this room. Which, considering he was holding what looked like a lease agreement and a set of keys, he might actually be trying to do.
"Mr. Blackfang." I forced my voice to remain steady, professional. "How did you get in here?"
He held up the keys, silver metal catching the light from my cheap lamp. "Building management was very cooperative once I explained the situation."
"What situation?"
Alexander stood with that fluid grace that I was learning to associate with barely contained power. In the confined space of my apartment, he seemed even larger, more imposing. His presence filled the room until I felt like I couldn't breathe.
"The situation where my assistant witnessed something she shouldn't have, and now requires my personal protection."
My blood ran cold. "I don't know what you mean."
"Don't you?" He moved closer, and I had to fight the urge to back away. "Last night. The conference room. The conversation you definitely didn't overhear."
I kept my expression confused, innocent. "I told you, I was just working late. I didn't hear anything unusual."
Alexander smiled, and it was the predatory expression I was beginning to know too well. "Of course you didn't. Just like you didn't see anything unusual either."
"I don't understand what you're implying."
"I'm not implying anything, Sarah. I'm telling you directly." He stopped just close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from his body. "Someone tried to kill you last night."
"What?" The shock in my voice was genuine this time.
"After you left the building. A man was waiting in the parking garage. Professional, well-trained, armed with weapons specifically designed to kill..." He paused, his silver eyes studying my face. "People like me."
My mind raced. Vincent. It had to be. He must have been watching, must have seen me leave the building and decided I'd been compromised. The thought that he'd tried to have me killed sent ice through my veins.
"But why would someone want to hurt me? I'm nobody special."
"Aren't you?" Alexander's voice dropped to that dangerous whisper. "Because this nobody special handled witnessing a murder with remarkable composure. This nobody special looked at a monster and didn't run screaming. This nobody special is far more interesting than she pretends to be."
He was fishing, trying to get me to reveal something. But I couldn't tell if he actually suspected my true identity or if he was just naturally paranoid.
"I work well under pressure," I said, echoing my words from yesterday. "It doesn't mean I'm anything special."
"Perhaps. But until I'm certain why someone wants you dead, you're under my protection." He held out the lease agreement. "Congratulations, Sarah. You're moving."
I looked at the papers in his hands. The address was in the Upper East Side, one of the most expensive neighborhoods in Manhattan. "Mr. Blackfang, I appreciate the concern, but I can't afford—"
"It's not your choice." His voice carried the absolute authority of someone who wasn't used to being refused. "Your lease here was terminated this morning. Your new apartment is fully furnished and paid for. All you need to do is pack your personal belongings."
I stared at him, torn between outrage at his high-handed behavior and genuine confusion about his motives. "Why are you doing this?"
"Because you're valuable to me." The way he said it made heat pool in my stomach. "Because I don't like it when people try to take my things. And because..." He reached out and touched my cheek with the back of his fingers. "Because I want you close."
His touch sent electricity racing through my nervous system, and I had to clench my fists to keep from leaning into it. This man - this creature - was my target. I was supposed to kill him, not let him move me into his territory like a prized possession.
But the logical part of my brain pointed out that this was actually perfect. Getting close to Alexander was exactly what I needed to complete my mission. If he wanted to make it easier by bringing me into his inner circle, who was I to object?
"I don't have much," I said finally. "Just clothes and a few personal items."
"Perfect. My people will handle the move this afternoon. You can start in your new place tonight."
"Your people?"
Alexander's smile showed just a hint of those sharp canine teeth. "I have a very efficient staff."
Two hours later, I stood in the lobby of a building that screamed money and power. Marble floors, crystal chandeliers, and a doorman who looked like he could bench press a small car. This wasn't just expensive - this was the kind of place where billionaires kept their mistresses.
"Miss Collins?" The doorman's voice was professionally respectful, but I caught him studying me with eyes that were a little too sharp, a little too knowing. "Mr. Blackfang is expecting you. Penthouse floor."
Of course it was the penthouse.
The elevator was a work of art - polished brass and mirrors that reflected my nervous expression back at me from every angle. I looked pale, out of place in my simple black dress among all this luxury. Like a sparrow that had accidentally flown into a golden cage.
The doors opened directly into the apartment, and I stepped into a space that belonged in an architectural magazine. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a view of Central Park that probably cost more than most people made in a year. Modern furniture mixed with antique pieces that looked like they'd been stolen from European castles. And everywhere, that subtle scent of wealth and power and something wild.
"Welcome home."
I turned to find Alexander watching me from across the living room, a glass of red wine in his hand. He'd changed from his business suit into dark jeans and a black sweater that clung to his chest in ways that made my mouth go dry.
"It's beautiful," I said, and meant it. "But Mr. Blackfang, this is too much. I can't possibly accept—"
"You can and you will." He crossed to where I stood, moving with that predatory grace. "Consider it a signing bonus."
"For being your secretary?"
"For being mine."
There was that word again, spoken with an intensity that made heat race through my body. I was supposed to be maintaining my cover, playing the innocent secretary who was overwhelmed by her powerful boss. Instead, I found myself staring at his mouth and wondering what it would feel like against mine.
"Would you like a tour?" Alexander asked, apparently oblivious to the inappropriate direction of my thoughts.
"Yes, please."
He led me through rooms that grew progressively more impressive. A kitchen that could have served a restaurant, with professional-grade appliances and granite countertops. A dining room with a table that could seat twelve, dominated by a chandelier that looked like it belonged in Versailles. A library with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves and leather furniture that probably cost more than my entire education.
"And this," Alexander said, opening a door at the end of the hall, "is your room."
I stepped inside and my breath caught. The bedroom was larger than my entire previous apartment, with a king-size bed that looked like it belonged in a luxury hotel. French doors opened onto a private balcony with views of the park. And in the corner sat my few belongings, looking pitiful and out of place among all the expensive furniture.
"How did you...?"
"I told you, I have efficient people." Alexander moved to stand beside me, close enough that I could smell his cologne. "I hope you find everything to your satisfaction."
"It's perfect. Thank you." I turned to face him, intending to express my gratitude properly, and found myself trapped between his body and the doorframe. "Mr. Blackfang..."
"Alexander," he corrected, his voice dropping to that rumble that I felt in my bones. "I think we're past formalities, don't you?"
"Alexander." His name felt strange on my tongue, intimate in a way that made my pulse spike. "This is incredibly generous, but I have to ask... what do you expect in return?"
His silver eyes darkened with an emotion I couldn't identify. "What do you think I expect?"
"I don't know. That's why I'm asking."
"I expect loyalty." He reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers brushing my neck in the process. "I expect discretion. I expect you to trust me to keep you safe."
"And that's all?"
"For now."
The qualification hung in the air between us, loaded with possibilities that made my skin feel too tight. I should have been planning his death, not fantasizing about what "later" might involve.
"I should let you settle in," Alexander said, stepping back and giving me room to breathe. "Dinner will be ready at eight. I thought we could discuss your new duties."
"New duties?"
"Well, you're living in my home now. That makes you more than just my secretary." His smile was sharp-edged and dangerous. "We'll need to adjust your responsibilities accordingly."
After he left, I sat on the obscenely comfortable bed and tried to process what had just happened. In the span of a few hours, Alexander had moved me into his territory, made me financially dependent on him, and begun what felt suspiciously like a seduction.
The smart thing would be to contact Vincent, report the change in circumstances, ask for new instructions. But something held me back. Maybe it was the memory of how Vincent's expression had flickered when I'd asked about the photo. Maybe it was Marcus's research about Alexander's age. Or maybe it was the growing certainty that I was being played by everyone around me, and I needed to figure out the rules of the game before I made my next move.
I unpacked my few belongings, hiding my weapons in various locations around the room. The silver dagger went under the mattress, easily accessible but not obviously placed. Throwing knives were tucked into the backs of drawers. Poison capsules were hidden in my makeup compact.
If Alexander was planning to eliminate me, I'd be ready. If he was planning something else... well, I'd be ready for that too.
At exactly eight o'clock, I made my way to the dining room. Alexander was already there, opening a bottle of wine that probably cost more than most people's rent. He'd set the table for two, with crystal glasses and silverware that looked like it belonged in a museum.
"Perfect timing," he said, looking up as I entered. "I hope you like Italian. I had my chef prepare something special."
His chef. Of course he had a chef.
"It smells wonderful," I said, settling into the chair he pulled out for me. "You really didn't have to go to all this trouble."
"It's not trouble." He poured wine into my glass, a deep red that caught the light like liquid rubies. "I enjoy taking care of the people who matter to me."
"And I matter to you?"
"More than you know."
He served dinner - some kind of pasta in a sauce that tasted like heaven - and we made conversation about safe topics. My background (carefully edited), his business (equally carefully edited), my impressions of the city. Normal conversation between a boss and his employee, if you ignored the undercurrent of sexual tension that made every innocent comment sound like foreplay.
"So tell me," Alexander said as we finished the main course, "what made you choose New York? Young woman, all alone in the big city. It's not the safest choice."
I took a sip of wine, buying time to consider my answer. The story Vincent had crafted for me was simple - small-town girl seeking her fortune in the big city. But something in Alexander's expression suggested he was fishing for more than surface details.
"I wanted adventure," I said finally. "Small-town life was too... predictable."
"And you found adventure working as a secretary?"
"I found you."
The words slipped out before I could stop them, and I immediately wanted to take them back. That was far too honest, far too revealing.
But Alexander's smile suggested he approved of my honesty. "Yes, you did. The question is, what are you going to do about it?"
"I don't understand."
"Don't you? You're an intelligent woman, Sarah. You must realize that this arrangement isn't typical. Most employers don't move their secretaries into penthouses. Most bosses don't go to such lengths to protect their employees."
I set down my wine glass, my pulse beginning to race. "Then why are you?"
"Because you're not most employees." Alexander leaned back in his chair, studying me with those penetrating silver eyes. "Because from the moment you walked into my office, you've been full of surprises. Because when you looked at me last night - really looked at me - you didn't run."
"Maybe I should have."
"Maybe. But you didn't. Which tells me that you're either very brave or very foolish."
"Which do you think I am?"
"I think," Alexander said, standing and walking around the table to where I sat, "that you're dangerous."
He was behind my chair now, his hands resting lightly on my shoulders. I could feel the heat of his palms through the thin fabric of my dress, could smell his intoxicating scent surrounding me.
"Dangerous how?" I asked, proud that my voice didn't shake.
"You make me want things I shouldn't want. You make me consider possibilities I'd written off. You make me..."
"What?"
His hands tightened on my shoulders, not painfully, but possessively. "You make me want to keep you."
I should have been planning my escape. Should have been looking for weaknesses to exploit. Instead, I found myself leaning back against his chest, enjoying the solid warmth of his body.
"For how long?"
"Forever."
The word hit me like a lightning bolt, sending heat racing through my body in ways that had nothing to do with the wine. This was wrong. I was here to kill him, not fall under his spell. But when his hands moved to my neck, tracing the line of my throat with gentle fingers, I couldn't seem to remember why that mattered.
"Alexander..." I started to turn in my chair, but his hands held me still.
"Stay," he murmured, his voice rough with an emotion I couldn't identify. "Just like this. Just for a moment."
So I stayed, letting him touch me with a gentleness that seemed at odds with the violence I'd witnessed last night. His fingers traced patterns on my skin that made me shiver, made me want things I shouldn't want.
Made me forget that he was supposed to be my enemy.
"I should go," I said finally, though every nerve in my body was screaming at me to stay. "It's been a long day."
"Of course." Alexander stepped back, his hands falling away from my skin. "Sweet dreams, Sarah."
I made it to my room without doing anything stupid, but it was a close thing. My body was humming with unspent energy, my skin still tingling where he'd touched me. I needed to focus, needed to remember my mission, needed to figure out my next move.
Instead, I found myself thinking about the way his voice had sounded when he'd said "forever."
I changed into pajamas and brushed my teeth, going through the motions of a normal evening routine while my mind raced. Alexander wanted me close, wanted me under his protection, wanted me in his bed if I was reading the signals correctly. All of which should have made my job easier.
So why did it feel like I was the one being hunted?
Around midnight, when I was sure Alexander had gone to bed, I slipped out of my room and began exploring. The apartment was huge, with rooms I hadn't seen during the official tour. A home office with multiple computer screens and filing cabinets that probably contained more information than I could process in a week. A gym with equipment that looked like it could handle someone with superhuman strength. And at the end of a long hallway, a room with a heavy wooden door that was slightly ajar.
I pushed the door open and stepped into what could only be described as a war room.
Maps covered every wall - not just of New York or even the United States, but of the entire world. Red pins marked locations across multiple continents, connected by strings that formed a complex web of relationships. But it wasn't until I looked closer that I realized what I was seeing.
Territory maps. Pack boundaries. The global distribution of werewolf populations.
And in the center of it all, a detailed map of the eastern United States with photographs pinned at strategic locations. Pack leaders, from the looks of them. Alexander's allies and enemies, laid out like pieces on a chess board.
My blood ran cold when I spotted a familiar photograph in the corner. Vincent, looking exactly as he had in the picture with my father, pinned to a location in the Adirondack Mountains with the notation "Silver Moon - hostile" written underneath.
So Alexander knew about Vincent's organization. Knew they were enemies. Which raised the question of why he'd hired me, why he was keeping me close, why he was treating me like a potential lover instead of a potential threat.
Unless he knew exactly who I was. Unless this whole seduction was just another kind of trap.
I was so focused on the map that I didn't hear the footsteps in the hallway until it was too late.
"Interesting reading?"
I spun around to find Alexander standing in the doorway, wearing nothing but a pair of black pajama pants that hung low on his hips. His chest was bare, revealing the scars I'd glimpsed last night and muscles that belonged on a Greek statue. But it was his expression that made my heart skip a beat.
He didn't look angry at finding me in his private war room. He looked satisfied, like I'd just confirmed something he'd already suspected.
"I'm sorry," I said quickly. "I couldn't sleep, and I was just exploring. I didn't mean to intrude."
"Didn't you?" Alexander stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. "Because this room is off-limits to everyone except my inner circle. The fact that you found it suggests you were looking for it."
"I got lost. The apartment is so big, and all the hallways look the same."
"Try again."
His voice carried that edge of command that made my spine straighten automatically. This wasn't Alexander the seductive host. This was Alexander the Alpha, the predator who'd torn a man apart with his bare hands.
"I was curious," I admitted. "About you. About what you really do."
"And what do you think I really do?"
I gestured at the maps surrounding us. "I think you're involved in things that go way beyond corporate mergers and business deals."
Alexander smiled, and it was sharp and dangerous. "Very good. And what else do you think?"
"I think you've been expecting me."
"Have I?"
"The way you hired me specifically. The way you've been watching me. The way you moved me in here." I met his silver gaze directly. "You know who I am."
"Do I?"
"Stop answering my questions with questions."
Alexander laughed, a sound that was genuinely amused rather than threatening. "You're right. You deserve honesty." He moved closer, until we were standing just arm's length apart. "Yes, Sarah Collins. I know exactly who you are."
My heart hammered against my ribs, but I kept my expression steady. "And who am I?"
"You're the weapon Vincent Ashford pointed at my heart." His smile widened, showing those sharp canine teeth. "You're Scarlett Hunter, daughter of David Hunter, trained since childhood to be the perfect assassin. You're here to kill me."
The words hit me like physical blows, confirming my worst fears. He knew. He'd known all along.
"And yet," Alexander continued, reaching out to trace my cheek with one finger, "here you are. In my home. Under my protection. Wearing silk pajamas I bought for you."
"Why?" The word came out as barely a whisper.
"Because, my deadly little huntress," Alexander said, his voice dropping to that rumble that made my bones vibrate, "I have plans for you. Plans that Vincent never could have imagined."
"What kind of plans?"
His smile was pure predator, full of promises that made heat pool in my stomach despite the danger of the situation.
"The kind that start with you failing your mission," he said, "and end with you choosing me over everything you've ever known."