Chapter 101
Chapter 101:
A murmur of amusement moved through the room. This was grunt work — intern work, the kind of assignment you gave someone you wanted to quit before lunch. The smell of mildew was nauseating, a sharp contrast to the lingering scent of rain and cedar still clinging to my skin from Dallas’s car.
My stomach twisted with the sheer weight of the disrespect. But I forced a calm, professional smile. “Understood,” I said, picking up the heavy box. “I’ll get right on it p>
Clarissa blinked, clearly disappointed by my lack of outrage. “Don’t ruin them,” she warned, turning her back on me. “Though I suppose they’re already trash p>
I carried the box to my assigned station, my knuckles white. I am not weak, I repeated to myself. I am the Alpha’s wife.
Two hours later, I was elbow-deep in grey sludge, carefully peeling apart sodden pages with tweezers. The glamour of the morning had long evaporated. I felt grimy, my head aching from the fumes of the fungicide.
My phone vibrated against the metal table, the buzzing sharp and intrusive. I glanced at the screen, my heart skipping a beat.
Dallas: Counting the seconds until you report to me tonight, little wolf.
I gasped, nearly dropping my tweezers. The words were simple text, but they felt so intimate, so possessive — I could almost hear his voice, that low rumbling growl, directly in my ear. My heart hammered against my ribs, a traitorous rhythm.
I looked around frantically, but no one else seemed to notice. No one else knew that the most powerful Alpha in the city was sending messages like a lovesick teenager while I sat ankle-deep in moldy tax records.
My fingers trembled as I typed a reply, keeping the phone low beneath the table.
𝘔𝗼𝗋𝖾 𝗇о𝘃el𝗌 𝗈𝗻 𝘨𝘢𝗅𝗇𝘰𝘷еlѕ.𝗰o𝘮
Me: I’m up to my elbows in 1950s mildew. This is your fault.
The reply was instant.
Dallas: Wear the red lipstick tonight. I want to taste it again.
Heat flooded my face, burning all the way to the tips of my ears. I stared at the sodden tax document in front of me, the numbers blurring. How was I supposed to focus on cleaning fungus when the Alpha King was sending messages like that?
The rest of the day passed in a blur of anxiety and anticipation. By the time the clock struck six, I was a nervous wreck.
I arrived at the penthouse at half past. The elevator ride felt like an ascent to the gallows — or perhaps to the altar. When the doors opened, the apartment was dim, lit only by the city lights filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows.
Dallas was there.
He sat on the velvet sofa, a glass of red wine in his hand, long legs stretched out before him. He had discarded his suit jacket, and his white dress shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, revealing the tantalizing hollow of his throat.
The air in the room was heavy, saturated with his scent — storm and cedar, amplified a thousandfold. It was the scent of a Lycan in his prime, a predator at rest, waiting.
“You’re late,” he murmured, his voice rough as gravel. He didn’t glance at his watch — his obsidian eyes were locked entirely on me. “Come here, Adella. Give me your report p>