Rejected By The Alpha, Claimed By The Blind Commander

Alannah POV:

The Maybach pulled into Morgan Trust's private garage. I took the express elevator to my corner office, sat behind the dark-wood desk, and pulled out the Silver Peak credit ledgers. Red deficit numbers ran down every page.

The doors banged open. Elton walked in with his mother, Constance Rosa—deep purple silk, graying hair pinned up, mouth tight with anxiety.

I didn't stand up. Just leaned back in the leather chair, ankles crossed under the desk. "This is private. You've got ten seconds to explain how you got past security."

Elton slammed both palms onto my desk. "Cut the act, Alannah. We're here to give you one last chance to fix your mistake."

I let out a dry laugh. "A chance? You broke our betrothal in front of the Council less than two hours ago. Now you're in my office offering chances?"

Constance stepped forward, lifting her chin. "Be sensible, girl. Cinthia comes from a decorated military family. Her brother holds rank in the federal garrison. She takes the primary title. But we're willing to let you stay at Silver Peak Manor as an unmarked submissive partner." She paused, smoothing her skirt. "Of course, House Morgan's monthly stipend to the estate continues as agreed. It's the only way a wolfless orphan like you keeps any standing in polite society."

They wanted it all—my title, my money, my silence.

I got up, walked around the desk, and stopped three feet from Elton. "You want me to live in your servant wing, endure your insults, and continue paying your bills?"

Elton stared at me, baffled. "Alannah, you have no inner wolf. Without the shelter of an Alpha's pack, you are nothing but prey in this city. Who else would ever take you?"

I picked up the ceramic mug of cold coffee from my desk and threw it in his face.

The dark liquid splattered across his nose, dripping down his chin and staining the crisp white collar of his custom shirt.

Elton froze, his gray-blue eyes widening in shock. He dragged his sleeve across his face, sputtering in disbelief.

Constance let out a horrified shriek, fumbling in her purse for a handkerchief. "Have you lost your mind? You insolent, lowborn peasant!"

I tossed the empty mug into the wastebasket, pulled a linen handkerchief from my pocket, and wiped my fingers. "Drop the aristocratic act, Constance. The Silver Peak Pack has been an empty shell for five years. You survive on my loans, and you know it."

I hit the intercom. "Security. Get these two out of here. Now."

Elton stepped forward, shaking with rage, his finger pointing inches from my eyes. "You dare disrespect my mother? I will see you ruined for this, Alannah! No pack in this federation will do business with Morgan Trust!"

I slapped his hand away with a sharp crack. "We will see who ruins whom."

Four heavy-set Beta security guards in black tactical uniforms entered and grabbed Elton and Constance by their upper arms.

"Take your hands off me!" Constance screeched, her heels kicking uselessly as her elaborate hairstyle unraveled. "I am the Dowager of Silver Peak!"

Elton struggled, but the guards easily suppressed him.

As they dragged them to the door, I said, loud enough for both to hear, "Have your accounts ready, Elton. Morgan Trust's formal notice of default hits your manor tomorrow morning."

The heavy double doors slammed shut, cutting off Constance's curses.

Tessa walked in a moment later with a fresh cup of hot chamomile tea and set it on my desk. "That was handled with remarkable restraint, ma'am."

I took a small sip, letting the warmth settle my nerves. "Restraint won't collect our debts. Did Arthur finish cross-referencing the accounts?"

The private landline buzzed. I lifted the receiver. "Go ahead, Arthur."

Arthur Sterling, our chief financial auditor, spoke in a hushed, urgent tone. "Alannah, we verified the secondary ledgers. Julian Rosa's gambling debts at the Riverview underground syndicate are worse than we projected."

I turned toward the window, looking down at the silver ribbon of the river below. "What is the total balance?"

"With compounding penalties, it sits at three million two hundred thousand federal credits," Arthur replied. "The debt has been sold twice. Julian signed personal promissory notes using the Silver Peak estate's secondary mineral rights as collateral."

I smiled, cold and sharp. "Gather the certified originals. Put them in a secure folder."

"Are you going to court?" Arthur asked.

"No," I said, tracing the cool glass with my nail. "I'm going to Silver Peak Manor tomorrow to collect."

I hung up the phone, walked back to my desk, and locked the primary debt records into the floor safe.

Just as the heavy steel dial clicked into place, my private cell phone vibrated on the blotter. The screen lit up with an encrypted message from an unregistered federal frequency.

"Your betrothal gifts have crossed the city perimeter. Prepare your vault."