Babysitting The Amnesiac Lycan King

CHAPTER 124

"Don't move, don't breathe, don't get found."

I count each footstep as though they're fucking grenades.

One. Two. Three.

Jacob's boots drag against the hardwood, slow like he knows someone's holding their breath inside this goddamn cabinet. And that someone's me.

My knees are cramping. My spine's pressed so hard against the back wall, I swear I'm becoming furniture. I try not to think about how loud my heartbeat is, or how much I have to pee. I hate hiding. I'm not built for it. I'm not a fucking shadow. I'm flesh and blood and dumb-ass mistakes wearing overpriced Italian boots.

The knob of the cabinet twitches.

Fuck. This is it. This is how I die. Hunted down in a Milan conference room like a rat in a desk drawer. What a legacy.

But then-

"Excuse me,” Seraphina's voice cuts through the air, sharp and sugary. Like a knife dipped in honey. "I think the woman you' re looking for was just spotted on the ground floor."

Her heels click into the room like she owns it-and yeah, technically, she kind of does now. Secretary to the CEO. Sleek, silver badge. Designer pencil skirt. Smile like she could sell your soul and you'd say thank you.

Jacob stops. I can feel it-like the whole goddamn cabinet sighs with me.

"And you are?" he asks.

"Seraphina Grimaldi," she replies without missing a beat, bowing just enough to pass for polite but not submissive. "I believe the CEO mentioned that your... high status deserves nothing less than exceptional conduct."

Bitch is a chameleon. A power-dressed savior with good lighting.

squinting at her, probably running mental diagnostics. She's lying. She knows it. I

the ground

she says smoothly. "Blonde, I think. Wearing a

So does the rest of the search team, their

wait. I count to thirty,

light floods the inside of

her perfectly glossed lips curling

wincing. "You try

to sniff your soul

Do you know how many NDAs I'm going to have to

saved my ass. I owe you gelato and

do." She smooths her skirt and

is brisk. Seraphina leads like she's walking into war. I trail behind like a half-dead soldier dragging a baby-sized secret inside me. And yeah. That

desk. It's the kind of wink that says

Sinclair?" she says, folding her hands. "Please, take

skirt and sit. The cushion's hard. The air's cold. There's a poster on the wall that says Be The

begin," she says, tapping her keyboard. "It says

"We worked briefly together in New York. He offered me

your background

heartbeat thuds a little louder. "Freelance

Covered werewolf rights, pack reforms, some corporate corruption.

CHAPTER 124

true. Just... don't Google

her eyes a little but nods. "What's your stance on

is if your facts are bulletproof." She blinks. Like she didn't expect that

Omegas just because they have a title. I write the truth. If that makes people uncomfortable, maybe

looks at me. Then at the screen. Then at