Chapter 70: Chapter 70
I woke up to Christian’s arm locked around my waist like a steel trap.
Through our bond, I felt his wolf prowling just beneath his skin—restless, furious, barely contained. The kind of rage that made alpha wolves do very stupid, very violent things.
"You’re going to crush my ribs," I muttered into the pillow.
His arm loosened fractionally. "They’re still out there. In my pack. Plotting."
I turned to face him, taking in the hard set of his jaw, the silver bleeding into his dark eyes. Christian Knight was terrifying when he was angry—all predatory grace and lethal intent.
"And if you go tearing through the pack house right now, ripping throats out, you’ll prove Harold right." I pressed my hand against his chest, feeling his heart hammering. "That you’re impulsive. Dangerous. Unfit to lead."
"I don’t care what Harold thinks."
"Yes, you do." I held his gaze. "Because if the Council believes him, they can remove you. And then where does that leave us?"
His wolf snarled through the bond, but Christian’s human side knew I was right. Slowly, painfully, I felt him pull back from the edge.
"Strategy," he ground out. "Not vengeance."
"Exactly."
He kissed me then—hard and possessive, like he needed to prove I was really here, really his. When he pulled back, some of the silver had faded from his eyes.
"I hate when you’re the reasonable one."
"Get used to it."
I was about to argue, then my phone buzzed. Connor’s voice cut through my spiraling thoughts. "We need to talk about the meeting."
"The manufacturing deal?" I looked up from the photographs, trying to refocus. "It’s scheduled for this afternoon."
"That’s the problem," Connor said. "We can’t postpone. The client has already pushed it back twice. If we cancel now, we lose them, and Knight Industries needs this contract. We’re talking millions."
Christian’s jaw clenched so hard I could hear his teeth grinding. "Absolutely not. You’re not leaving the territory."
"I have to." I sat up straighter, pulling slightly away from him so I could see his face. "Connor’s right. The deal is too important. And if we cancel—"
"If you leave, you’re exactly what they’re hoping for." Christian’s eyes flashed silver. "Sophie, they know you’re coming. Tom knows you’re coming."
"Then we don’t tell them." I kept my voice level reasonable. "We increase security. Marcus will arrange a full team—"
"It won’t be enough." Christian stood abruptly, walking to the window. His shoulders were rigid, his whole body vibrating with barely suppressed energy. "You don’t understand what you’re asking me to do. Letting you walk out of here while he’s—"
"I’m going," I said quietly. The finality in my voice must have registered because he turned to look at me. "Christian, we can’t let them dictate what we do. If I hide, if I show fear, that’s exactly the leverage they want."
He didn’t argue after that. But I felt his anxiety crackling through our pack bond—a constant, low-frequency hum of dread that made my chest ache.
The drive to the city felt longer than usual. The Knight Industries security team followed two cars behind, keeping their distance but present. I tried to project calm through the pack bonds, imagining golden threads of reassurance extending back toward Christian. It probably didn’t work. But I had to try.
My hands tightened on the steering wheel as the city skyline came into view.
The high-rise conference room was all floor-to-ceiling windows and sleek glass tables. The manufacturing corporation representatives were already there—three middle-aged men in expensive suits, all confidence, and handshakes.
I stepped into professional mode like slipping on armor.
The presentation went smoothly. I walked them through Knight Industries’ capabilities, the specialized services we could provide, and the timeline for implementation. My voice was steady. My pitch was solid. I could feel them leaning in, feel the deal settling into place like puzzle pieces fitting together.
One of the executives was actually smiling when I concluded the presentation. I was already calculating the projected revenue numbers in my head when I glanced out the glass partition.
Tom Knight stood in the hallway outside the conference room.
His presence hit me like ice water. My Luna senses spiked with danger so acute that I nearly gasped.
He was dressed in a charcoal suit, his dark hair slicked back, flanked by men in dark tactical gear. Security. Armed, I realized with creeping dread, seeing the subtle bulges beneath their jackets.
I didn’t think so. I just texted.
*Tom is here. Building. Now.*
I felt Christian receive it. The surge of alpha fury through our bond nearly knocked me sideways.
"If you’ll excuse me," I said to the executives, my smile never wavering, "I need to use the restroom. I’ll be right back."
I stood, smoothing my skirt, and excused myself from the conference room with the kind of poise that came from years of practice at pretending everything was fine even when it wasn’t.
The hallway was quiet. Too quiet.
My heels clicked against the polished concrete floor. I was halfway to the bathroom when Tom’s security team suddenly moved, cutting off my escape route to the elevators. Their movements were practiced, professional, and efficient.
Tom stepped out from behind a support column, his expression cold and carefully arranged.
"Hello, Sophie," he said.
I kept walking, not stopping. "Tom. Didn’t expect to see you here."
"Didn’t you?" He stepped into my path. "I think you did. I think your mate has been tracking me for days. What I need you to understand is that Christian have made significant mistakes. Choices that are unraveling the Knight family legacy. I’m simply protecting our interests."
