Kimberly POV:
The financial ambush was a bloodbath. Graves poured forty million into a hostile takeover of my fashion label, not realizing I’d already stripped the IP and client lists. He bought a sinking ship.
I was in the parking garage, heading to my rental, when the hairs on my neck stood up.
Move.
I spun, but the boot caught me in the stomach. I slammed into the concrete, tasting copper.
Two Enforcers stepped out of the shadows.
"Alpha says you need a lesson in respect."
They didn't use magic. They used fists. It was a calculated beating—enough to bruise, not enough to kill.
Shift! My wolf screamed. Kill them!
No. If I shifted, I’d expose the White Wolf lineage. Graves would lock me up as a breeding mare. I had to take it.
I curled into a ball, protecting my head. A boot cracked against my ribs.
"That's enough," Graves' voice crackled from a phone in the Enforcer's pocket. He was listening. The sick bastard.
The Enforcers left me bleeding on the oil-stained concrete.
I lay there, breathing through the agony. My accelerated healing was already knitting the bone, itching like fire.
I dragged myself up, spitting blood. I pulled a burner phone from my bra.
I dialed a number whispered in back alleys.
"Rogue Alliance," a rough voice answered.
"I have a job," I rasped. "And I have twenty million dollars of Graves' money to pay for it."
