Chapter 228
Lynette's POV
Elara caught my arm as I was heading for the door.
"Sis," she said. Her voice was quiet. "Be careful today."
I turned back. She was standing in the hallway in her pajamas, hair still messy from sleep. But her eyes were wide. Worried.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
She bit her lip. "I had a dream last night. You were in this... dangerous place. There were machines everywhere and—" She stopped. Shook her head. "It's stupid. Just a dream."
I walked back to her. Put my hand on top of her head. Her hair was soft under my palm.
"I'll be careful," I said.
She nodded but didn't let go of my arm right away. Her fingers were cold.
I pulled away gently and left.
---
The factory floor was louder in the morning. Metal grinding against metal. Conveyor belts clanking. The air smelled like hot oil and welded steel.
Tom—the floor manager—waved me over. "Carter. You're with me today. Gonna show you the main production lines."
I followed him through the maze of machinery. Workers in coveralls moved around us, barely glancing up. Good. I needed to blend in.
We stopped in front of a security door. Tom swiped his card and it clicked open.
"This is Workshop Three," he said as we walked through. "High security. You need clearance to get in here."
The room beyond was massive. Three production lines running parallel, all churning out identical metal components. The noise was deafening.
Tom had to shout over it. "This line produces specialized alloy parts for territory supply contracts. Runs twenty-four seven."
I nodded. Kept my expression neutral and attentive.
But my eyes were mapping everything. The electrical control panels along the east wall. The coolant pipes running across the ceiling. The emergency shutoff switches by each line entrance.
And there—Line Three's main control cabinet.
Tom turned to gesture at the production line. "—output increased by forty percent in the last month alone—"
I stumbled. Caught myself against the control cabinet. My hand slapped the metal surface.
"Whoa, careful." Tom grabbed my elbow. "Floor's slippery here."
"Sorry," I said. Straightened up. "Still getting used to the steel-toed boots."
He nodded. Kept talking.
But my palm had already pressed the tiny magnetic bug into the seam where the cabinet door met the frame. Three seconds. Done.
The cooling vents were vibrating. Too much vibration. The fan inside was working overtime.
Overheating.
I filed that away.
Tom was still talking. "—most important line in the whole factory. Mr. Harrison checks on it personally every day. So if anything goes wrong here, it's everyone's problem. Got it?"
"Got it," I said.
He clapped me on the shoulder. "Alright. Let's move on."
We spent the next hour touring the other sections. I asked the right questions. Took notes on a little pad I'd brought. Played the eager new employee.
The whole time, my mind was working.
Line Three. Overheating control system. Twenty-four hour operation.
This was going to be easier than I thought.
---
Lunch break came at noon. I grabbed my packed sandwich and found a corner table in the break room. Kept my head down. Ate slowly.
The door opened.
I didn't look up right away. Just heard footsteps. Two people. One set was heavy—men's dress shoes. The other was lighter. Heels.
"—confirm the delivery schedule for next week."
My whole body went cold.
I knew that voice.
I kept chewing. Kept my head tilted down so the brim of my work cap shadowed my face.
Blythe walked past first. Navy suit. Expensive watch. That same arrogant posture I remembered from school.
And right behind him—
Sophia.
She was wearing a cream-colored pantsuit. Hair perfectly styled. Her heels clicked on the concrete floor.
My heart was pounding but I kept my breathing steady. Forced my shoulders to stay relaxed.
They walked past my table. Sophia's perfume hit me—something floral and expensive. The same scent she'd worn at school.
I took another bite of my sandwich. Chewed. Didn't look up.
"—my father wanted me to personally verify the timeline," Sophia was saying. "He's concerned about delays."
Sophia's father. Doing business with Blythe.
I filed that away too.
They were almost past me when Sophia stopped.
I felt her eyes on me.
My pulse spiked. I kept chewing. Kept my head down.
"This worker..." Sophia's voice trailed off.
Oh fuck.
"What about her?" Blythe sounded impatient.
Sophia was quiet for a second. I could feel her staring at me. My skin prickled.
"I feel like I've seen her somewhere before."
My hand tightened on the sandwich. I forced it to relax.
Blythe sighed. "She's a trial worker. Started yesterday. Can we go? I have a meeting in ten minutes."
Sophia didn't answer right away. I could still feel her gaze. Dissecting me. Trying to place my face.
The freckles. The darker foundation. The glasses. The greasy ponytail.
It had to hold.
"...Fine," Sophia finally said.
Her heels clicked away. Blythe's footsteps followed.
I waited until the door closed behind them. Then I let out a slow breath.
That was too fucking close.
---
I gave it twenty minutes. Finished my sandwich. Threw away the wrapper. Then I stood up and headed for the bathroom.
Except I didn't go to the bathroom.
I went to the storage room on the east side of the building. It was small. Cramped. Smelled like cleaning supplies and old cardboard.
I locked the door behind me. Pulled out the listening device receiver from my pocket. Put in the earbuds.
The device I'd planted this morning in Line Three's control panel crackled to life.
"—can't keep pushing the equipment like this." That was Blythe's voice. Stressed. Angry.
Another voice answered. Older. Male. "Harrington is demanding double output by next week. That's not a request."
Sophia's father.
I leaned against the wall. Closed my eyes. Listened.
"The production line is already running at maximum capacity," Blythe said. "If we increase the load any more, we risk equipment failure. The cooling systems can't handle—"
"That's not my problem." Sophia's father cut him off. His voice was cold. "The Alpha gave an order. We deliver. End of discussion."
Silence.
Then Blythe: "If something goes wrong—"
"Then you fix it. That's what you're paid for."
The line went quiet. Just static.
I pulled out the earbuds.
My mind was already working through the chain.
Kael's father demands increased supply. Blythe pushes the equipment past safe limits. Line Three's cooling system is already failing.
I didn't need to sabotage anything.
I just needed to help the inevitable happen a little sooner.
My lips curved into a cold smile.
Perfect.
---
I clocked out at five. Walked through the parking lot with my head down. Just another tired factory worker heading home.
But my wolf senses were active. Scanning. Listening.
And I caught it.
Footsteps. Twenty meters behind me. Light. Trying to be quiet.
I kept walking. Didn't change my pace. Turned left at the corner like I was heading for the bus stop.
The footsteps followed.
I turned into a narrow alley between two warehouses. The kind with dumpsters and loading docks. No cameras.
Halfway down, I stopped.
Spun around.
The alley was empty.
But my nose didn't lie.
I could smell her perfume. Faint. Recent.