Chapter 54
Chapter 54
If I had a dime for every hate I get of this place, I’d have ten pennies. It’s not much, but it sure as heck is making me question if this is the high–end journalist company they are talking about.
The office smells like burnt coffee, cheap printer ink, and the stale breath of disappointment. I’ve been sitting at this damn desk for hours–clicking, scrolling, refreshing–only to watch the same red letters flash across the screen like they’re mocking me.
ACCESS DENIED.
I clench the mouse so hard the plastic casing groans under my grip.
“Try again, newbie.”
I hit the login button as if it’ll suddenly decide to work if I stare hard enough.
ACCESS DENIED.
“Fuck!” I slam my hand on the desk, making my pencil holder jump.
A couple of heads snap up from across the bullpen, but no one says anything. Half of them probably feel the same way I do -chained to this corporate hellhole, chasing stories they’ll never get to print. The other half are too busy gossiping or jerking off behind their monitors to give a shit.
I lean back in my chair, glaring at the screen like it personally insulted my entire bloodline.
This was supposed to be my shot. My chance to finally do something–to be more than just the pack’s favorite punching bag or the pathetic little Omega everyone forgot about the second they turned their backs.
But here I am, three weeks into this job, and they’ve got me writing clickbait articles about the Top Ten Ways to Tell If Your Mate Is Cheating.
I didn’t come here to play office Barbie.
I came here to find the truth.
About my parents.
About the night they died.
About why Gamma Abel always looked at me like he knew something he’d never fucking say.
My gaze flicks to the document code I scrawled on a crumpled sticky note beside my keyboard.
S–92A: 2006 Rogue Attacks – Confirmed Casualties
I found it buried in the archives last night–hidden under a dozen layers of bullshit titles and mislabeled files. The problem is, I’m not authorized to see it. Apparently, the truth about my own goddamn parents‘ deaths is on a need–to–know basis.
And according to this company? I don’t need to fucking know.
I gnaw on the inside of my cheek, glancing around the office. The fluorescent lights flicker overhead, buzzing like mosquitoes in my ears.
No one’s paying attention.
I type the document code again.
1/5
Chapter 54
ACCESS DENIED.
I don’t know why I keep expecting a different result.
Maybe because I’m not ready to admit I might actually have to ask for help.
My eyes drift toward the breakroom at the far end of the bullpen, where Zoe’s obnoxious laugh carries through the glass walls like nails on a chalkboard. She’s perched on the counter, legs crossed, sipping what has to be her tenth cup of coffee today while she gossips with one of the interns.
Zoe–my not–so–friendly, bubbly–assigned office bestie.
Her entire personality is built on two things: caffeine and juicy fucking secrets.
Being 12 years in this shitty hellhole, she’s also one of the few persons in this entire building who has access to the archives without needing clearance.
I grind my teeth, already hating myself for what I’m about to do.
Grabbing my coffee cup, I march toward the breakroom like I have any fucking pride left.
“Zoc.”
Her green eyes flick to me over the rim of her cup. “Oh my goddess, newbie. You’re alive. I was starting to think you offed yourself at your desk or something.”
“Not yet.” I plaster on the fakest smile I can manage. “But there’s still time.”
She snorts, swinging her legs. “What do you want?”
I glance at the intern, who’s pretending not to eavesdrop but doing a piss–poor job of it.
I cut him a look. “Take your shitty coffee and go.”
His eyes widen, but Zoe just grins like I finally grew a backbone.
The intern scuttles out without a word.
I lean against the doorframe, crossing my arms over my chest. “You wouldn’t happen to know how to access restricted archives, would you?”
Zoe’s smile stretches wider, like a cat spotting a wounded bird.
“Oooooh,” she sings, setting down her cup. “Look who’s trying to stir up some dirt.”
“It’s just for an article.”
“Bullshit.”
“It is.”
“Bull. Shit.”
I exhale hard through my nose, hating how fucking transparent I am.
Zoe hops off the counter, heels clicking against the tile as she slinks closer.
“What’s the newbie digging for, huh?” Her voice dips lower. “City scandal? Hidden affairs? Or over me like she’s trying to crack me open. “Are you looking into the big bad wolves?”
2/5
Her head tilts, eyes flicki
05:56 Mon, 24 Mar
Chapter 54
My pulse jumps.
I school my face into something neutral.
“I’m not
“Don’t play dumb, Sinclair. Everyone knows the Imperial Pack’s coming to the city.”
I go rigid.
I heard that.
But I did try to NOT remember it.
I’ve been too buried in trying not to fuck up this job–or spiral into another black hole of self–pity–to keep track of pack politics.
But if they’re coming here…
If he’s coming here…
My stomach knots hard, but I shove it down.
“I just need access to some old reports,” I mutter, eyes fixed on the coffee machine behind her. “Rogue attacks. That’s it.”
Zoe’s grin sharpens like a knife.
“You’re such a shit liar.”
I glare at her, my patience dangling by a thread. “Can you help me or not?”
She taps her manicured nails against the counter, dragging out the silence just to be a bitch.
Finally, she smirks.
“I can… if you owe me one.”
Of course she wants something.
“What kind of one?”
Zoe’s eyes flick to the bullpen.
Her grin goes fucking feral.
“Make Liam spill the tea.”
I blink. “What?”
“The hot boss act is cute and all, but there’s no way that man isn’t hiding something under all that broody bullshit.”
Oh for fuck’s sake.
1 pinch the bridge of my nose, already regretting this.
“Fine. Deal.”
Zoe claps her hands like a fucking five–year–old.
3/5
+53)
05:56 Mon, 24 Mar A
Chapter 54
“Password’s Mercury87. The archives reset at midnight, to whatever you’re looking for… you’ve got six hours.”
1 bite the inside of my cheek to keep from thanking her.
92
Instead, I turn on my heel and stalk back toward my deck feeling her grin burn into the back of my skull the whole way
Six hours.
Six hours to find the truth.
Six hours before whatever the fuck I’m digging into disappears for good.
I drop into my chair and type in the password.
Access Granted.
My heart lurches.
I start scrolling–searching, clicking, scanning–until I find the report.
Rogue Attack Casualties
Pack
No… packname? As to where they came from?
My fingers tremble as I open the file.
Three names are listed at the top.
Two I already know by heart.
Lachlan Sinclair
Eloise Sinclair
My father?
My mother?
The third name makes the blood drain from
my
face.
Unnamed Infant
– Female
–
Presumed Deceased
My breath locks in my throat.
I stare at the screen until the letters blur together.
No.
No, that’s not fucking possible.
I was never listed.
I was never supposed to be there as the Riverstone Pack has already adopted me.
But the record says I died that night–just like the rest of my family.
What the fuck are they trying to cover up?
4/5
