RILEY'S POV
We hurried down the wide stairs of Highridge Holdings, the marble steps echoing our steps.
In the grand hall, a burly rogue trader and his mate snarled at the guards. He waved a carved silver amulet high, face twisted red with rage.
"These relics we traded for last month are cursed fakes!" he bellowed, voice bouncing off the hall. "Where's the Alpha Heir? I demand to see her now!"
Pack members gathered, pulling out phones to capture the moment as whispers rippled like wind through gums. Then I stepped forward.
"Sir, please calm down. I'm Riley Harlow, Alpha Heir and head of Holdings. Let's talk calm and fix this."
"Calm?" He whirled on me, eyes like hot coals. "How, when your pack peddles junk relics? You're fleecing honest wolves of their hunts!"
"I'm sorry this hit you," I said, tone soft to soothe. "Come to my office, we'll sort it proper."
"Sort what?" he spat. "Words won't mend fraud! I'll drag this to the council, your pack's a company of cheats!"
