Page 8 of Heroes & Hitmen (Windy City Wolfpack #1)

Ares

The Alpha of the Chicago pack has a reputation for being a scary motherfucker, and now that I’ve officially met Gage Morgan, I can confirm he looks the part.

He’s around my dad’s age, if I had to guess, with a hulking build, salt-and-pepper hair, and a no-nonsense attitude.

I can already tell that he’s the kind of bastard who views everyone around him as disposable, but his imposing presence doesn’t scare me the way it should.

Right now, his booming voice is little more than background noise as I sit across the desk from him in this ridiculously large office, acting like I’m paying attention.

He’s going on about expectations, responsibilities, something to do with conduct and first assignments, but none of it is sticking. My brain’s doing a terrible job pretending to care when all I see when I look at him is the girl from last night.

Miley Beckett.

His daughter .

Hell of a first impression, right?

I didn’t know, obviously. She has a different last name, and she didn’t introduce herself as pack royalty. There was no hint of her lineage, no talk of pack politics. Just a smart mouth, sharp eyes, and a pull I couldn’t fight. Still can’t. I swear it was love at first sight.

Now I’m sitting across from the most powerful Alpha in the Midwest, and rather than paying attention, I’m thinking about the heat of his daughter’s skin beneath my hands, how her lips tasted like trouble and something decadently sweet.

How she met me move for move, breath for breath, until everything blurred and nothing existed but her .

I keep replaying that reckless moment I pushed inside– the shock of meeting resistance, the strained cry that tore from her throat.

It was her first time.

And I made a mess of it in the back alley of a dive bar like some rookie without a conscience.

“Raines,” Alpha Gage barks.

The sound of his voice yanks me out of my head and I blink back into the present.

It’s not the first time he’s barked my name like that since I got here, but judging by the annoyance in his tone, he doesn’t like repeating himself.

He’s looking at me like he knows exactly what’s on my mind, and I really hope that’s not the case, considering where my thoughts have been drifting.

“Yeah,” I answer smoothly, sitting straighter in the chair as if I’ve been locked in from the start. “Sorry, it was just a long drive yesterday. Still getting my bearings.”

His gaze sharpens, measuring me. Alpha Gage’s eyes are grey like his daughter’s, but where hers are wild and free, his are cold and calculating. They also lack the distinctive violet hue, but even so, there’s no mistaking the resemblance.

“You’re not here to get comfortable,” he growls, frowning at me. “You’re here to pull your weight.”

“I can handle that,” I reply confidently.

“Good,” he says with a dip of his chin. “Because we run a tight operation here. No excuses. No personal drama. You’re here to work.”

Right.

No drama… like popping his daughter’s cherry the night before my official intake.

Real smooth, Raines.

He pulls open a desk drawer and reaches inside while I glance around his office idly. Everything is sleek and modern, sharp lines and steel. I don’t know what I was expecting– dark wood and leather, maybe– but this actually suits him. Cold and hard. Expensive and impersonal.

This isn’t a place I plan to spend a lot of time, if I can help it. Then again, I didn’t plan to spend any time with the guy’s daughter, either, but I’m already plotting out how I may be able to track her down.

He pulls a manila folder from his drawer and tosses it onto the desk in front of me, where it lands with a loud slap.

“You’re assigned to unit 3207 here in the Tower.

This is your briefing packet, and you can pick up your keycard at the front desk down in the lobby.

Your first assignment will come down within the week, so have your phone on you at all times and be ready. ”

“Understood,” I reply.

He stares at me a beat longer than necessary, his eyes like knives trying to slice past the surface and see what’s underneath. I keep my expression locked down tight, casual, like I haven’t already unknowingly broken the rules.

“Thanks again for your hospitality,” I drawl, tipping my head to him. “Is there anything else you need from me, or am I free to go?”

I hope he can’t detect the impatience in my voice. Not exactly the best way to get off on the right foot, but I have other things on my mind. One thing in particular that I should definitely stay away from, but know I won’t.

“Don’t make me regret bringing you in,” he warns, as if I had any choice in the matter.

I flash him a grin. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

He levels me with a stern stare in return, the muscle in his jaw ticking.

I can already tell this guy doesn’t like me. Whether it’s because I’ve got Alpha blood or just because I’m an asshole, I’m not sure, but I can’t say I’m his biggest fan, either. The air of condescension about Gage Morgan has my wolf clawing at the inside of my chest, eager to put him in his place.

“You’re dismissed,” he says blandly, nodding toward the door.

My skin prickles under his patronizing command, but I force myself to stand and turn away, swiping the folder off the desk before leaving his office with tension buzzing in my veins.

I make my way down the hall to the elevator, stepping inside and hitting the button for the lobby.

The moment the doors slide shut, I exhale through my nose and press the back of my head against the smooth, mirrored wall.

So much for staying out of trouble.

For once, I was actually going to try to keep my head down, follow the rules, and stay far away from anything that looked remotely like chaos. Then Miley Beckett walked into my life and wrecked all of that without even trying.

And the worst part?

Now that I know who she is, I still don’t want to stay away.

It’s even hotter– the whole forbidden fruit thing– and having had a taste, I need more. I can still smell her skin, still hear the way she said my name. It’s burned into my goddamn soul.

By the time the elevator reaches the ground floor, I’ve almost convinced myself that this is a good idea.

I step out with the folder tucked under my arm, biting back a grin at how I just managed to charm, lie, and nod my way through an intake meeting with the scariest asshole in the city after defiling his daughter last night.

The Tower lobby is sleek and sterile, all glass and metal and silence, save for the ding of the neighboring elevator arriving.

The doors slide open, and I swear it’s fate when Miley steps out like she owns the place with her back straight, chin high, projecting that same tightly-wound confidence I saw in her at the bar.

Her hair’s pulled up in another bow– pale blue, to match the cropped hoodie she’s wearing with her high-waisted black leggings– and she’s got a messenger bag slung over her shoulder, looking maddeningly casual for someone who basically upended my world less than twelve hours ago.

“Hey Miley,” I call out, a little too fucking enthusiastically.

She stops in her tracks, head slowly turning in my direction. “You stalking me already?” she asks coolly.

My lips spread into a grin. “Why? You want me to?”

She makes a scoffing sound in her throat and pivots to resume her path to the exit, but I catch up in a couple strides and fall into step beside her.

“I’ve got places to be,” she mutters, but I catch the way her eyes linger on me.

I’m definitely not the only one still thinking about last night.

“So do I,” I drawl, glancing toward the security desk where I’m supposed to be picking up my keycard. It can wait. “Funny how fate keeps throwing us together.”

“Don’t start with the fate crap,” she sighs.

“Fine. Coincidence, then. You still didn’t answer my question.”

“What question?”

“If you want me to stalk you.”

She doesn’t reply, just rolls her eyes hard enough to see the back of her skull. I reach the exterior doors before her and pull one open, following her out into the sharp morning sunlight and adjusting my pace to keep up when she bolts down the sidewalk.

“Let me take you out,” I coax. “Somewhere better than a shitty dive or the alley behind it.”

She laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “Yeah, no thanks. I’m already spoken for.”

I arch a brow. “Didn’t see a mate mark on your skin.”

She stops mid-step and turns toward me, lips pursed. “Not that kind of spoken for. It’s… arranged.”

“Arranged,” I echo, letting the word hang between us as my brow furrows. “Like some sort of mating contract?”

I’ve heard of them before, but most packs stopped that archaic practice decades ago.

She gives me a tight nod. “Through my father.”

Of fucking course.

That definitely complicates things, but it doesn’t mean I’m out of the running yet. “When’s this lucky guy sweeping you off your feet?” I ask, tilting my head.

“What?” She scrunches her nose, and goddamn is it cute.

“You said it’s arranged. So, when’s the actual mating?”

She hesitates for a beat, teeth sinking into her plush lower lip. “Next full moon.”

“Then we’ve got, oh…” I pause dramatically, glancing down at my watch. “Eleven days. Might as well make the most of it.” I wink.

She narrows her eyes, a scowl twisting her lips. “Did you not hear me? I’m promised to someone else .”

I cock a brow. “Did that just happen today, or were you promised last night, too?”

Her arms fold over her chest, the little muscle in her cheek twitching as she levels me with a warning glare.

“That’s what I thought,” I continue, grinning. “Yet you still let me pull you into an alley, push you up against the wall, wrap those pretty legs around me…”

“Goodbye,” she snaps, shoving past me hard enough to knock me off-balance.

I chuckle under my breath as I stumble a step, then jog to catch up. “Hey, where are you going? ”

She starts walking faster– long, graceful strides that would lose most people.