Bonds of the Alpha Billionaire (Maya and Alex)

COMMENT

Chapter 25

83:51

-Alex's POY-

A guttural curse echoed through the speakers, followed by the sickening thud of something heavy hitting the wall. I almost laughed, leaning back in my chair as I watched the live feed from one of the hidden cameras Christian had planted in Daniel Stone's office.

Daniel himsell was a whirlwind of barely contained fury. His face, usually a mask of practiced composure, was contorted with rage, Veins bulged in his neck, and his perfectly styled hair was coming undone, strands sticking to his forehead like sweat dampened flags of surrender. The multi-million dollar mahogany desk that served as the centerpiece of his office looked like it had been ravaged by a toddler having a tantrum. Papers were scattered everywhere, some crumpled into unrecognizable balls, others fluttering to the floor. An expensive glass pen, the kind I would never stoop to using, lay

I

shattered on the white marble floor.

A twisted part of me enjoyed the spectacle a little more than I cared to admit. It was a petty pleasure, a childish delight in seeing the man who had being a thorn to my family brought so low. Even before I discovered Amaya was my mate, he had hated my father, my pack, something that transcended to me and I never know why. Somehow, he always came up on top.

But that was then, and this was now. Christian, with his ruthless efficiency and disturbing lack of moral compass, had turned the tables. He'd exposed Daniel's dirty dealings, leaked damaging information to the press, and launched a hostile takeover of Stone Industries, all with surgical precision. The company was hemorrhaging money, its stock price plummeting faster than a stone dropped down a well. Daniel's carefully constructed empire was crumbling around him, and the look on his face was priceless.

And this was just the beginning.

"Fix it!" he roared, his voice strained with impotent fury. "I don't care how you do it, just fix it!" He spun around, his gaze landing on the two cowering figures huddled in the corner of the office. They were both senior executives, men who usually carried themselves with an air of self-importance. Now, they looked like frightened rabbits caught in the headlights.

"We're... we're working on it, Mr. Stone," one of them stammered, "But the market is in freefall, and there's only so much we can do."

for! Think, d am n it, think! Come up with a plan, any plan!" He paced the room like a caged animal, his movements jerky and erratic. I should feel bad for doing this to her father. He might be an e b ut he was still her father, still, I found myself

of seeing Daniel squirm, a part of me couldn't help but feel a pang of... something. Regret? Sympathy? it was hard to say. The man had caused me so much pain, and yet, watching him crumble filled me with a sense of emptiness rather than joy. Perhaps it was the knowledge that revenge, however sweet

stock market ticker displayed on the opposite wall. The numbers were scrolling by at an alarming rate, each red digit a testament to Daniel's crumbling empire. A small, almost inaudible voice in the back of my head

off.

I had texted her an address after I ended the call. I had

about but in that moment, I just

from my phone. It was a text.

deep within me. Just what I needed. I stared at the

e with irritation.

I didn't even know what I

me at The Rusty Compass. Now.

designed to irritate me further, to poke and

Chapter 25

seemed so adept at

183%

ignoring her wasn't an option. She had a knack for creating chaos, and 1 couldn't stay put. With a sigh of resignation, I grabbed my keys

the bar reeked of cheap beer and stale cigarettes. The neon sign outside flickered erratically, casting a sickly green glow over the chipped paint

Dimly lit corners offered dubious privacy, and the only light source for the makeshift dance floor in

a primal sound that resonated through my bones. It wasn't a sound of aggression, but of recognition. My gaze snapped towards the source of the growl, cutting through

me, but the stiff set of her shoulders and the way her jaw was clenched tight spoke volumes. Miranda was standing right in front of her. Her face was illuminated by the flickering flame of a lighter as she leaned across the table. Even from this distance, I could see the malicious glint in her eyes as she

fist. I could almost feel the tension radiating off her, the barely controlled fury simmering beneath the surface. Another growl erupted from within me, this time

before the murmur of conversation resumed. Amaya didn't even turn around at first, her focus honed solely on Miranda. Then, as if sensing my presence, she lifted

a complex mix of emotions- anger and a flicker of something else I couldn't quite decipher. But it was the fury simmering beneath the surface that mirrored my