I stood in front of the Blackfang Corporation building at exactly 8:30 AM, clutching a coffee that was about to become a weapon.
The tower stretched sixty floors into the Manhattan sky, all black glass and steel that seemed to cut through the morning light like a blade. Workers streamed through the revolving doors, their faces blank with Monday morning exhaustion. None of them knew they were walking into the den of North America's most powerful werewolf.
My reflection stared back at me from the building's dark windows. Gone was the lethal assassin in black leather. In her place stood Sarah Collins - mousy brown hair instead of my natural red, thick-rimmed glasses that hid my green eyes, a conservative gray suit that made me look like every other office drone. Vincent's tech team had outdone themselves. I looked completely harmless.
Perfect.
I'd spent the weekend memorizing every detail of my cover identity. Sarah Collins, twenty-three, recent graduate from NYU with a business degree. No family, no close friends, no one who would miss her if she disappeared. The kind of person who was invisible until someone needed a scapegoat.
Vincent had been thorough, as always. Sarah had a full background - school records, apartment lease, even a sparse social media presence. All fake, but it would pass any standard background check.
What he hadn't been thorough about were the answers to my questions. When I'd confronted him about the photo and Marcus's timeline research, Vincent had simply smiled that cold smile and told me not to worry about details.
"Focus on the mission, Scarlett. Everything else is just noise."
But the noise was getting louder. And today, I was walking into the lion's den with nothing but lies and a silver blade for protection.
I took a deep breath and pushed through the revolving doors.
The lobby was exactly what I'd expected from a billionaire's corporate headquarters - marble floors, abstract art that probably cost more than most people's houses, and security guards who looked like they could bench press a car. But underneath the expensive veneer, I sensed something else. Something wild and dangerous that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
Werewolves. I couldn't see them, but I could feel their presence like a weight in the air.
"Sarah Collins?" A woman in her forties approached me, her smile professional but warm. "I'm Margaret Stone, Mr. Blackfang's executive assistant. Welcome to Blackfang Corporation."
I smiled back, channeling every shy, eager-to-please persona I'd ever studied. "Thank you so much for this opportunity, Ms. Stone. I promise I won't let you down."
"I'm sure you won't. Mr. Blackfang specifically requested that we hire you after reviewing your application." Margaret's eyes studied me with more attention than I liked. "He said you had exactly the qualifications he was looking for."
A chill ran down my spine. Alexander Blackfang had specifically requested me? That wasn't part of the plan. Vincent had said the position would open up naturally, that I'd be just another applicant.
"How wonderful," I managed, keeping my voice steady. "I hope I can live up to his expectations."
"Oh, I'm sure you will." Margaret's smile sharpened, and for a second, her canine teeth looked a little too long. "He's very good at reading people. Comes in handy in business."
She led me to the elevators, her heels clicking against the marble with military precision. The elevator itself was a work of art - polished brass and dark wood that screamed old money and older power.
"You'll be working on the fifty-eighth floor," Margaret explained as we rose. "Mr. Blackfang's office takes up the entire floor, along with his private conference room and a few smaller offices for his inner circle."
"His inner circle?"
"His most trusted employees. Pack bonds run deep here at Blackfang Corporation." She said it casually, but I caught the warning underneath. Betray one of them, and you'd have to deal with all of them.
The elevator slowed as we approached the fifty-eighth floor. My palms were sweating, and I wiped them discreetly on my skirt. In a few seconds, I'd be face to face with my target. The man I'd been trained to kill. The man who might be completely innocent.
"One last thing," Margaret said as the doors started to open. "Mr. Blackfang can be... intense. Don't take it personally. He's just very focused on getting what he wants."
The doors opened, and I stepped into a different world.
The entire floor was an open concept office space, but it felt more like a war room. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a view of Manhattan that made you feel like you were standing on top of the world. Modern furniture mixed with antique pieces that looked like they belonged in a medieval castle. And everywhere, the subtle scent of something wild and predatory.
But all of that faded into background noise when I saw him.
Alexander Blackfang stood with his back to me, talking on a phone in front of the massive windows. Even from behind, he commanded attention. Tall and broad-shouldered, he wore a perfectly tailored black suit that looked like it cost more than I'd ever seen in one place. His dark hair was slightly longer than corporate standard, touching his collar in a way that suggested he didn't care about other people's rules.
"Mr. Blackfang?" Margaret called softly. "Your new assistant is here."
He finished his conversation and turned around, and I forgot how to breathe.
The photographs hadn't done him justice. They'd captured his physical features - the aristocratic bone structure, the perfectly sculpted jaw, the lean muscle evident even beneath his expensive suit. But they hadn't captured the raw power that radiated from him like heat from a fire.
And his eyes...
His eyes were silver-gray, like liquid mercury, and when they locked onto mine, I felt like a rabbit that had just noticed the wolf watching from the trees. Not because I was afraid - I'd stopped being afraid of men when I learned to kill them. But because something deep inside me recognized something deep inside him.
Predator recognizing predator.
"Sarah Collins," he said, and even my fake name sounded different in his voice. Lower, richer, with an undertone that made my skin tingle. "Welcome to Blackfang Corporation."
He walked toward me, and I had to resist the urge to step back. Not because he was threatening - his movements were fluid, controlled, almost graceful. But because every instinct I had was screaming that this man was dangerous in ways I didn't understand yet.
"Thank you, Mr. Blackfang," I managed, extending my hand for a professional handshake. "I'm excited to be working for your company."
The moment his fingers touched mine, electricity shot up my arm. Not metaphorical electricity - actual, physical sensation that made my heart stutter and my breath catch. His hand was warm, much warmer than normal human temperature, and his grip was firm without being crushing.
But it was his expression that made my blood run cold. For just a second, something flickered across his face. Recognition? Surprise? It was gone so fast I might have imagined it, replaced by his professional mask.
"Excellent," he said, still holding my hand. "I have a feeling we're going to work very well together."
He held on just a beat too long before releasing me, and I had to fight not to rub my palm against my skirt. The tingling sensation lingered like I'd touched a live wire.
"Margaret, please show Sarah to her desk and get her settled in. I want her to start immediately."
"Of course, sir."
My desk was positioned just outside Alexander's office, with a clear view of his door and anyone who approached. Strategic, but also isolated. I'd be able to observe his movements, but I'd also be under constant observation myself.
Margaret handed me a stack of files and a company laptop. "These are Mr. Blackfang's appointments for the week. You'll be responsible for managing his calendar, screening his calls, and handling any correspondence that doesn't require his direct attention."
I nodded, settling into my chair and trying to look like a normal secretary instead of an assassin studying her target. "Is there anything specific I should know about his preferences? How he likes his coffee, important clients to prioritize?"
"Black coffee, no sugar. As for clients..." Margaret's smile turned predatory again. "Mr. Blackfang doesn't have clients. He has allies and enemies. Learn to tell the difference quickly."
She left me alone with the files, and I started reading. On the surface, everything looked normal - business meetings, conference calls, charity events. But as I dug deeper, patterns emerged. Meetings with other corporate leaders who, according to my research, were also werewolf pack leaders. Charity events that raised money for organizations that didn't seem to exist. Conference calls scheduled for odd hours with participants from around the world.
This wasn't just a business. It was the headquarters of a supernatural empire.
"Sarah." Alexander's voice made me jump. I'd been so focused on the files that I hadn't noticed him approaching my desk. "I need you to reschedule my 2 PM with Henderson Industries. Move it to Thursday."
"Of course, Mr. Blackfang." I opened his calendar on the laptop, trying to ignore the way he was standing just close enough that I could smell his cologne. Something expensive and masculine with an underlying scent that made my mouth water. "Any particular time on Thursday?"
"Late evening. Henderson doesn't like conducting business during daylight hours."
I made a note, though I was pretty sure I knew why Henderson preferred evening meetings. "Anything else?"
"Actually, yes." He moved closer, ostensibly to look at my computer screen, but close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from his body. "Cancel all my meetings for the rest of the day. I want to spend time getting to know my new assistant."
My blood chilled. This wasn't part of the plan. I was supposed to blend in, be invisible, gather intelligence slowly. Not become the center of Alexander Blackfang's attention on my first day.
"Of course, sir. Should I reschedule them for later in the week?"
"Tomorrow will be fine." He straightened up, but didn't step away. "Tell me, Sarah, what made you apply for this position? Most people find the atmosphere here... overwhelming."
It was a test. I could feel it in the way he watched my reaction, like he was measuring every micro-expression for signs of deception.
"I like challenging environments," I said, meeting his gaze directly. "I work well under pressure."
Something sparked in his silver eyes. "Is that so? We'll have to test that theory."
Before I could ask what he meant, chaos erupted near the elevators. Two men in security uniforms were escorting a third man - young, probably mid-twenties, with the kind of desperate expression that meant bad news was coming.
"Mr. Blackfang," one of the security guards called. "We caught him trying to access your private files. Marcus Webb from the thirty-second floor."
Alexander's entire demeanor changed. The polite corporate executive vanished, replaced by something cold and predatory. When he walked toward the group, his movements reminded me of a wolf stalking prey.
"Marcus Webb," Alexander said, his voice carrying clearly across the office. "You've been with the company for three years. Good performance reviews. No red flags in your background check." He stopped in front of the terrified employee. "So why would you risk everything to betray me?"
"I... I don't know what you're talking about," Marcus stammered. "I was just trying to access files for the Morrison account. My supervisor said—"
"Your supervisor never gave you authorization to access my personal files." Alexander's voice dropped to barely above a whisper, but somehow it was more terrifying than if he'd been shouting. "And the Morrison account doesn't exist."
The young man's face went white. "Please, Mr. Blackfang, I can explain—"
"No need." Alexander moved faster than I could follow, grabbing Marcus by the throat and lifting him off the ground with one hand. "I can smell the lies on you. I can smell your fear. I can smell..."
He paused, inhaling deeply near Marcus's neck like a predator scenting prey.
"I can smell who's been paying you."
From my desk, I watched in fascination and horror as Alexander's grip tightened. Marcus's face turned red, then purple. His legs kicked uselessly in the air.
"Mr. Blackfang," I called out before I could stop myself. "Perhaps we should call security? Or the police?"
Alexander's head snapped toward me, and for a second, his eyes flashed with something that wasn't entirely human. Then he seemed to remember where he was, who he was supposed to be.
He dropped Marcus, who collapsed to the floor gasping for air.
"Of course," Alexander said, his voice returning to its normal professional tone. "Sarah's right. We should handle this through proper channels." He looked down at Marcus with disgust. "Security, escort Mr. Webb from the building. Make sure he understands that his termination is effective immediately."
As the guards dragged Marcus away, Alexander straightened his tie and walked back toward me as if nothing had happened. But I'd seen the real him for a moment. The predator beneath the expensive suit. The monster that lived behind those silver eyes.
And the strangest part? I wasn't afraid. I was fascinated.
"Where were we?" Alexander asked, settling against the edge of my desk with casual grace.
"You were going to test my ability to work under pressure," I reminded him, proud that my voice didn't shake.
"Ah yes." His smile was sharp-edged and dangerous. "Tell me, Sarah, what did you think of that little display?"
Another test. Probably a bigger one than the first.
"I think," I said carefully, "that you run a very tight ship. And that Marcus Webb made a serious error in judgment."
"Is that all?"
I met his gaze steadily. "I think that some people mistake kindness for weakness. And that those people learn quickly that they're wrong."
Alexander stared at me for a long moment, and I had the uncomfortable feeling that he was seeing right through my carefully constructed facade. Then he smiled, and it was nothing like his earlier predatory expression. This smile was genuine, almost warm.
"I think," he said, "that you and I are going to get along very well, Sarah Collins."
He pushed off from my desk and headed toward his office, but paused at the door.
"One more thing. I'm having dinner tonight with some business associates. I'll need you to accompany me to take notes. Can you stay late?"
My heart rate spiked. Dinner with Alexander and his inner circle? On my first day? This was either an incredible opportunity to gather intelligence, or a trap that would get me killed.
"Of course, Mr. Blackfang. What time?"
"Eight o'clock. And Sarah?" His silver eyes locked onto mine again. "Wear something nice. These associates are very... particular about appearances."
After he disappeared into his office, I sat at my desk trying to process what had just happened. In the span of an hour, I'd met my target, witnessed him nearly kill a man with his bare hands, and been invited to a dinner that was probably going to be attended by a pack of werewolves.
I was supposed to be the hunter in this scenario. So why did I feel like I was the one being hunted?
I pulled out my phone and sent a quick text to Vincent: "First day successful. Target shows interest. Will report tonight."
His response came back immediately: "Stay focused on the mission. Don't let him get too close."
Too late, I thought, touching my hand where Alexander had held it. I could still feel the tingling sensation from his touch, still smell his intoxicating scent, still see the flash of something inhuman in his silver eyes.
Whatever game we were playing, the rules had just changed. And I had a sinking feeling that Alexander Blackfang knew exactly who I really was.
The question was: what was he planning to do about it?