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.

on the ground floor?" he

the café," she says smoothly. "Blonde, I think.

leaves. So does the rest of the search team, their shoes

wait. I count to thirty,

the inside of the cabinet like

lips curling into a glare. "Seriously?

rubbing my knees, wincing. "You try peeing

your soul out through a conference room

know how many NDAs I'm going to

I owe

and

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

behind the desk. It's the kind of wink that says this one's under my protection, so don't fuck

says, folding her

My palms are sweating. 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

her keyboard. "It

briefly together in New York. He offered me

background

heartbeat thuds a

pack reforms, some corporate corruption. My last article went

CHAPTER 124

Just... don't Google

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

your facts are bulletproof." She blinks. Like

exploiting Omegas just because they have a title. I write

Then at the screen. Then at Seraphina's wink echoing in