Black Moon Enterprises
The top floor of Black Moon Enterprises was a storm of activity. Phones rang without pause, keyboards clicked in rapid staccato, and the muted murmur of high-stakes negotiations buzzed through the glass-walled offices.
Behind a massive mahogany desk, Alpha Xander Kane sat like the eye of the hurricane—silent, focused, deadly calm. Three monitors glowed in front of him, each displaying different financial reports, merger proposals, and security updates from his pack's borders. A Bluetooth earpiece was hooked over his ear as he barked instructions in his deep, measured tone.
"No, Williams, I said liquidate. Not in three days—now. I don't care if your assistant's on vacation. Handle it."
Another call came in before the first even ended. Xander switched without missing a beat, leaning back in his leather chair, long fingers drumming against the desk. His patience was razor-thin tonight, and it showed.
"Yes, Mr. Kwon, we'll renegotiate the contract… No, I will not accept the revised shipment date. You either keep the schedule or I find another supplier."
A knock at the door. Sharp, urgent.
"Enter," Xander called without looking up.
The door swung open, and Lucas stepped in. His Beta's usual calm was nowhere to be seen—his face was pale, his voice tight.
"Alpha," Lucas said quietly, "the Young Master is missing."
The pen in Xander's hand froze mid-stroke. For the first time in years, his cold, unshakable mask cracked. "What?"
Lucas stepped closer. "Ian. His nanny went to check on him an hour ago and found his bed empty. The maids have been searching the estate, but—"
Xander was already on his feet. "How long?"
"At least two hours," Lucas admitted.
Xander's chest tightened. Ian was only six years old—the only child of his late elder brother. After the car accident that took his brother and sister-in-law, Xander had taken Ian in as his own. He'd trained him, protected him, even when the boy's mischievous streak tested every ounce of his patience.
But this… this was different.
"Where in the hell could he be at this hour?" Xander muttered under his breath, his voice low and dangerous. "Ian Kane, you're dead when I find you."
Lucas swallowed. "I tracked the GPS signal from the watch you gave him. It's… in a remote alley, about ten minutes from here."
Xander didn't waste another word. He grabbed his keys and strode toward the elevator, Lucas on his heels. The glass doors hissed shut behind them, leaving Xander's office eerily silent.
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ALLEY
The night air was sharp, heavy with the faint scent of rain. Scarlett sat with her back against a brick wall, her hood pulled low over her face. The narrow alley was quiet except for the occasional scurrying of a rat and the distant hum of traffic. She was waiting—waiting for the right moment to slip past the border patrols and get the hell out of Black Moon Pack territory.
But then she heard it.
A soft, hiccuping sob.
Her head tilted, eyes narrowing. She pushed herself to her feet, wincing as her injured leg protested. The sound came again—small, broken, and close.
Scarlett followed it deeper into the shadows until she found the source.
A little boy, maybe six years old, wandered aimlessly down the alley. His big brown eyes shimmered with tears, his cheeks flushed from the cold. His black hair was a messy halo around his small face, and his clothes—an expensive-looking sweater and dark jeans—were smudged with dirt.
When he spotted her, he froze. Fear flashed across his face, and he took a cautious step back.
Scarlett raised her hands slightly, her voice softer than she realized she was capable of. "Hey, where are you going this late, kid?"
The boy sniffled. "I—I'm looking for my daddy."
That made her blink. "Your… daddy?"
He nodded, scrubbing at his eyes with the back of his sleeve. "He hasn't come home for some days now. And the maids…" His little voice trembled. "…they don't treat me nice. So I want to find him myself. But I got lost."
Scarlett exhaled slowly, scanning the empty alley. She wasn't exactly the nurturing type, but even she knew this was bad. "You know it's dangerous out here, right? What if someone took you, and you never saw your daddy again?"
The boy's lower lip wobbled. Then the tears came again, rolling freely down his face.
Scarlett cursed under her breath. She had no idea how to handle crying children—hell, she didn't know how to handle children, period. She'd grown up alone, a rogue with no family, no one to teach her what love looked like. Caring for someone else had never been part of her life.
But this boy… something about the way he looked at her twisted something in her chest.
"Alright, alright," she muttered, crouching down despite the twinge in her leg. "Come here."
He hesitated, then shuffled toward her. When she reached out and scooped him into her arms, she was surprised at how light he was—and at how quickly he stopped crying once her arms were around him.
His head rested against her shoulder, his small fingers clutching the fabric of her hoodie. "Can you help me find my daddy?" he asked quietly.
Scarlett looked down at him, feeling that unfamiliar tug again. She should've said no. She should've handed him off to someone else and kept running.
But instead, she found herself saying, "Yeah, kid. I'll help you find him."