Kael POV
The contract sits on the desk like a living thing.
Kael's jaw clenches as he stares at the paper. Numbers blur together but he knows every digit by heart. This deal will finish what he started nine years ago. This deal will destroy Viktor Soren completely.
He traces his finger along the margin where his father's signature should have been. Should have been. Those words have lived in his chest since the day he watched his father burn.
Nine years. Three thousand days of breathing in the same air as a murderer who walks free.
The yacht fire wasn't an accident. Kael knows this the way he knows his own name. Viktor Soren sat in that cabin with Kael's father and sister like a friend. Like a trusted business partner. Then fire swallowed them whole and only Viktor walked out alive.
Convenient.
Lucky.
Suspicious.
Everyone else bought the official story. Kerosene leak. Wrong place wrong time. Tragedy. Kael was twenty-two years old and they told him to grieve and move on. His father's company fell apart. His father's allies scattered. His father's legacy became nothing but ashes floating in the harbor.
So Kael built something new.
He rebuilt his father's company from scraps and stitched it together with ruthlessness. Ashcroft Innovations. His name. His vision. His revenge wrapped in a three-piece suit and boardroom language.
Now Ashcroft was three times bigger than Soren Textiles.
Now Viktor Soren's company was bleeding from a hundred cuts that Kael personally carved into its foundation.
The old man had finally started to notice. Started to panic. Started to lose control.
And tomorrow, Kael would take the last piece. The final contract. The one that would make him own everything Viktor loved. Everything Viktor built. Everything Viktor's daughter would have inherited.
He wanted Viktor to feel it. Wanted him to understand that his daughter would inherit nothing but empty names and broken promises. That everything he touched would crumble to dust.
That was the point.
The door opened without a knock. Evander.
Kael didn't look up. He'd known this knock since they were kids. Evander was the only person in the world who could walk into Kael's space without announcing himself. The only person who knew what really lived under Kael's skin.
"Border negotiations are confirmed," Evander said, dropping a folder on the desk. "Tomorrow at noon. Neutral territory like they requested."
Kael finally glanced up. Evander stood there in an expensive suit that probably cost more than most people made in a month. But his face looked uncomfortable. His shoulders were tight.
"Problem?" Kael asked quietly.
"No problem. Just..." Evander hesitated and that hesitation landed like a stone in Kael's chest. Evander never hesitated. He was brilliant and quick and he didn't waste time on words that didn't matter. So when he hesitated, it meant something was wrong.
"Just what?"
"Viktor isn't coming."
Kael felt something shift in his body. Not quite relief. Not quite disappointment. Something darker.
"He's sending someone else?"
"His daughter." Evander watched him carefully. "Lyra Soren. She's been his personal advisor for the last two years. She handles his strategic negotiations."
The name meant nothing to Kael. He'd spent nine years studying Viktor Soren like a man reads a map before traveling through enemy territory. He knew Viktor's business partners. He knew his weaknesses. He knew the name of Viktor's company comptroller and the dates of his board meetings.
But Viktor had a daughter?
That detail seemed... wrong.
"How old?" Kael asked.
"Twenty-three. Warrior trained according to intelligence reports. She fought in the border skirmishes three years ago. Took down three of our people before we pulled back."
A warrior. Not a businesswoman. A fighter.
Something in Kael's chest stirred. Something his wolf nature recognized before his human mind caught up. A predator sensing another predator.
He stood up and walked to the window. Below, the city sprawled out in a map of lights and power and money. His money. His power. His empire built on nine years of systematic destruction.
"Sending her instead of coming himself is a power play," Kael said quietly. "Shows confidence. Shows he thinks we won't touch his daughter."
"Or shows desperation," Evander countered. "Maybe he can't handle the negotiations. Maybe he's afraid of you."
Kael smiled and it wasn't kind. "He should be."
The desert stretched beyond the city. Somewhere out there, Viktor Soren sat in his pack territory thinking about contracts and deals and ways to salvage his crumbling empire. He had no idea that sending his daughter to negotiate was the final mistake of his life.
Kael would destroy Soren Textiles tomorrow. By this time next week, Viktor would have nothing left. No company. No legacy. No future to hand down to anyone.
"What else?" Kael asked, still watching the city lights.
"The Soren Pack is losing members. Not through our actions. Something internal. Poisonings. Strange deaths. Same pattern happening in their border camps. It's destabilizing their territory."
Kael turned back. "Someone's attacking them from inside?"
"Looks like it. Could be a splinter group. Could be someone using the pack wars as cover for something else."
That was interesting. That meant Viktor had enemies besides Kael. That meant the old Alpha was bleeding from multiple wounds.
Perfect timing.
"What do we know about this daughter?" Kael asked.
Evander pulled out a second file. Inside was a photograph. Dark hair. Sharp features. Silver eyes that looked like they'd seen things no twenty-three-year-old should have seen.
Kael's breath caught in a way he didn't expect.
She looked dangerous. Not because of her appearance. But because of the way she carried herself even in a frozen moment. Like violence was something she'd already made peace with. Like she wouldn't hesitate to kill you if she needed to.
Like she was trained to be a weapon.
Kael understood that feeling. He was a weapon too. Just a different kind.
"She'll fight," Evander said softly. "If this goes wrong tomorrow, she won't go quietly. She'll fight."
"Good," Kael said and meant it. He wasn't interested in easy victories anymore. He'd gotten bored with crushing companies and stealing contracts. There was no satisfaction in defeating someone who didn't have the strength to fight back.
But a warrior daughter who would fight to protect her father's legacy? That was something worth breaking.
"Tomorrow then," Kael said, setting the photograph face down on the desk. "We finish this."
He walked back to the window and Evander left without another word. Below, the city continued its endless glow. Somewhere out there, Lyra Soren was probably sleeping, unaware that her world was about to burn.
Kael's wolf stirred inside him. Something ancient and possessive and hungry. Something that recognized a predator and wanted to mark territory.
He pushed it down.
This wasn't about the girl. This was about her father. This was about nine years of cold fury finally finding its target. This was about justice wearing a business suit.
Tomorrow morning, Lyra Soren would leave her camp to negotiate for her father's dying company.
She would never make it back.