Jefferson's POV
The morning sun barely touched the horizon when I pushed through the office doors, my jaw clenched tight against the fury burning in my chest. My wolf paced restlessly beneath my skin, hungry for blood and retribution, but this situation demanded strategy, not the savage impulse clawing at my restraint.
Nadia glanced up from her computer as I strode past her desk. Not a flicker of nervousness crossed her features as she launched into the day's briefings, her voice steady and professional. The lingering scent of alcohol clung to her clothes from whatever adventure she'd embarked on the previous evening, yet she maintained her composure with impressive efficiency. Perhaps she would prove more valuable than I'd initially anticipated.
Satisfactory.
