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.

on the ground

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

rest of the search team, their shoes fading

wait. I count to thirty, just to be

light floods the inside of the

her perfectly glossed lips curling into a

knees, wincing. "You try peeing when an Imperial

soul

"You're lucky I was here. Do you know how many NDAs I'm going to have to sign if

owe you

skirt and glances at

Resources 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 secret's kicking my bladder like it's got beef

the glass doorway and does this subtle, smug wink at the woman behind the desk. It's the kind of wink that says this one's under my protection, so don't fuck

folding her

wipe them on my skirt and sit. The cushion's hard. The air's cold. There's a poster on the wall that says Be The Wolf Of Your Own Pack and

keyboard. "It says here you're referred by

"We worked briefly together in New York. He offered

your background

heartbeat thuds a

werewolf rights, pack reforms, some corporate corruption. My last

CHAPTER 124

don't Google

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

matters is if your facts are bulletproof." She blinks.

“Look, I'm not gonna fluff piece someone who's exploiting Omegas just because they have a title. I write the

looks at me. Then at the screen. Then