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.

his stance. I imagine him squinting at her, probably running mental diagnostics. She's lying.

on the ground

smoothly. "Blonde, I think.

So does the rest of the search team, their shoes fading

I count to thirty, just to be

the door opens, and light floods the inside of the cabinet like

curling into a glare. "Seriously? This isn't

rubbing my knees, wincing. "You try peeing when an Imperial

to sniff your soul

know how many NDAs I'm going to have to sign if you blow this

owe you gelato and

smooths her skirt and glances at her watch. "Come

walking into war. I trail behind like a half-dead soldier dragging a baby-sized secret

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 it up. The HR lady straightens her back and clears her throat

her hands. "Please,

I 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

tapping her keyboard. "It

together in New York. He

your background before

a little louder.

some corporate corruption. My last

CHAPTER 124

don't Google the

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

facts are bulletproof." She

Omegas just because they have a title. I write

at me. Then at the screen. Then