Chapter 2
Elle's POV
I remained curled against the wall, unable to stop the tears streaming down my face. The amber-eyed stranger—a werewolf, apparently—had moved to the other side of the room and was making a phone call, his back to me as though offering a semblance of privacy.
"Alex, I need you to bring something to my suite immediately," he said, his voice low and commanding. "A blank check from my personal account. And bring a bottle of whiskey." He paused, listening. "No, I don't care what meeting you're in. This is priority."
He ended the call and turned back toward me, his expression unreadable. I noticed him studying me with those penetrating amber eyes—a telltale sign of werewolf heritage that I should have recognized immediately if I hadn't been so drunk and disoriented.
"The tears won't change anything," he said flatly. "What's done is done."
I wiped my face angrily. "Easy for you to say. You're not the one who just..." I couldn't even finish the sentence.
My phone buzzed with a text.
The text made my stomach drop: "Elle, I'm so sorry I couldn't make it tonight. My mother found out, and I'm already on the plane. Will call when I land. Love you.
He was gone. Already on a plane while I was here dealing with this catastrophe alone. I let out a bitter laugh that sounded more like a sob.
"Problem?" the werewolf asked, his tone suggesting he didn't actually care.
"None of your business," I muttered, then froze as a horrible realization hit me. I looked up at him, really seeing him clearly for the first time. The suit casually draped over a chair. The commanding presence. The way he spoke on the phone like someone used to giving orders.
"Wait... you're... you can't possibly be Brad Rayne, can you?" My voice came out as a horrified whisper.
His eyebrow raised slightly. "You know who I am."
Of course I knew who he was. Everyone in Moonshade Bay knew who Brad Rayne was. Alpha of the city's dominant pack. CEO of Rayne Group—the company I worked for.
I had just slept with my boss. My werewolf boss. The Alpha werewolf who effectively ruled this entire city.
"Oh my god," I whispered, feeling like I might be sick.
In the segregated society of Moonshade Bay, humans and werewolves kept largely separate lives—a reality that had existed since The Revelation a hundred years ago. That watershed moment when werewolves worldwide revealed themselves to humanity had changed everything. I'd learned about it in school—how after centuries of hiding, the werewolf leaders decided to step out of the shadows, demonstrating their superior strength and abilities.
The ensuing chaos had eventually settled into our current arrangement: humans could work for werewolf companies, but always in subordinate positions. Werewolves controlled all the power, all the wealth, all the prime real estate in the city. And Alphas—they were practically royalty.
The Rayne family had been instrumental in establishing Moonshade Bay's particular social order. They'd been among the first to push for "peaceful coexistence"—which in practice meant humans accepting their place at the bottom of the hierarchy in exchange for "protection."
"My reputation precedes me," he said dryly. "And you are?"
"Elle West," I said automatically, then immediately regretted giving my real name. "I work in your company."
I'm such a dumbass!
His expression changed subtly. "A human employee."
A sharp knock at the door interrupted us. Alpha Brad—I couldn't believe I was even thinking of him that way—went to answer it.
A well-dressed human man entered, carrying a leather portfolio and a bottle of amber liquid. He stopped short when he saw me huddled against the wall, his eyes widening slightly before his face returned to professional neutrality.
"The check and the whiskey you requested, sir," he said, handing both to Brad.
"Thank you, Alex. That will be all for now."
Alex nodded and left without another word, though I caught him giving me a curious glance before the door closed.
Brad uncapped the whiskey, pouring a generous amount into a glass. He didn't offer me any. He opened the portfolio, wrote something quickly, and then tore out a check.
"Here," he said, walking over and extending the check toward me. "This should adequately compensate you for any... inconvenience."
I stared at the check, the obscene amount making me feel even worse. "You think you can pay me off? Like I'm some kind of prostitute?"
"This isn't payment for services," he replied coldly. "It's insurance for your silence. Do you understand what would happen if people found out an Alpha werewolf slept with a human employee during the Full Moon Festival? The scandal would be destructive for both of us, but especially for you."
The implied threat wasn't subtle. In Moonshade Bay's social hierarchy, a human accusing an Alpha of anything would face scrutiny and backlash, not the werewolf.
"I don't want your money," I said, my voice stronger than I expected. "I just want to forget this ever happened."
"Then we're in agreement," he said, tossing the check onto the bed anyway. "Take it or don't. But remember—silence benefits us both."
I gathered my scattered clothes, desperate to escape this room and this man. "Don't worry," I said bitterly. "I'm not planning to tell anyone about the worst night of my life."
As I dressed hastily in the bathroom, I stared at my reflection—a pale, terrified human girl who had just made the biggest mistake of her life. In the stratified society of Moonshade Bay, humans and werewolves didn't mix intimately. It was technically legal, but socially taboo. Werewolves viewed humans as inferior, useful for work but not as equals, certainly not as partners.
And I had just slept with the most powerful werewolf in the city. By accident.
When I emerged, Alpha Brad was standing by the window, whiskey in hand, staring out at the full moon. He didn't turn as I moved toward the door.
"Miss West," he said just as my hand touched the doorknob. "This night never happened. For both our sakes."
I left without responding, the unsigned check still lying on the bed behind me.
In the elevator, I leaned against the wall, fighting back a fresh wave of tears. Jason was gone, flying away to his new job. Our special night—my first time—had been stolen from us forever. And I had no idea how I was going to face work on Monday.
My phone rang, jarring me from my thoughts. Jason's mother. With shaking fingers, I answered: "Mrs. Miller..."