Page 28

TWENTY-TWO

ZEV

Z ev slammed his large palm against his polished desk the next morning, making the stacks of papers jump. "This fucking bastard," he growled, the pages in front of him filling in horrific blanks he hadn't expected.

The morning sunlight shone through the windows of his office, casting golden rectangles across the evidence of Marty Shriner's true identity. Or rather, Matthew Silas Rourke's identity - a name that appeared on the FBI's most wanted list alongside photographs of a slightly different-looking man.

"Surgery," Ewan said, tapping one of the medical records they'd uncovered. "Changed his appearance enough to slide under the radar six years ago after the Nashville murders."

Zev's jaw clenched so hard he felt a molar creak. The wolf inside him paced with furious energy at what they'd discovered about the man he'd killed. His only regret was not making Rourke suffer more.

"Five women, Ewan. Five women disappeared and were presumed murdered. All with the same profile."

"Young, beautiful, and talented," Ewan agreed, his usual calm demeanor darkened by what they'd learned. "Dark hair, curvy, fair-skinned..."

"Just like Chrissy," Zev seethed, the Alpha in him barely contained. "The bastard was grooming her."

"His pattern was consistent. He'd isolate them from family, insert himself as their primary support system, then..." Ewan trailed off, not needing to say more.

Zev paced the length of the office, his veins standing out on his forearms as he fought to control his rage.

"He was kicked out of his pack for preying on young females, turned rogue, and built an entire fucking business to create a pipeline of potential victims." He drove his fist into the wall, leaving a dent in the expensive wood paneling.

"I should have torn his throat out the moment she set foot on my island. "

"You got her in time, Alpha." Ewan's voice was steady and grounding. "You saved her."

"Barely." The thought of what might have happened to Chrissy made Zev's blood run cold. "The contract..."

"That's the thing," Ewan interrupted, a rare hint of excitement breaking through his professional facade. "Look at the signature line."

Zev snatched up the document from the desk—Chrissy's iron-clad recording and management contract that had effectively turned her into Marty's property. His eyes zeroed in on where 'Martin J. Shriner' was signed with a flourish.

"The contract is with Martin J. Shriner," Ewan continued, his lips turning up into a predatory smile. "Not Matthew Silas Rourke. It's legally worthless."

Zev stared at the document, his mind racing. "You're telling me she's free?"

"Legally? You could drive a truck through the holes in this thing," Ewan confirmed, tapping on the contract. "His entire operation was based on fraud. Fake identity, fake credentials, fake companies—it all unravels the minute we reveal who he really was."

After a week of feeling restless and unsure of how to help Chrissy with this contract, Zev finally allowed himself to smile. It wasn't a pleasant expression—more like a wolf baring its teeth.

"Call our lawyers. I want this bulletproof." He gathered the papers, already anticipating the moment he could tell Chrissy she was truly free. "And get me everything on Leslie and the rest of his associates. I want to know if they were complicit or just useful idiots."

Ewan nodded, already reaching for his phone. "What about Empire Records?"

"They'll either distance themselves from this disaster or I'll buy them and burn them to the ground." The declaration wasn't hyperbole—Zev's family wealth made such threats entirely feasible.

"You're really going all in on this, aren't you?" There was something knowing in Ewan's voice.

Zev paused, his hand on the doorknob. "She's my Luna, Ewan. She's going to be the mother of my children." The declaration came naturally, his voice roughened with utter certainty. "I'll tear down the entire fucking entertainment industry if that's what it takes to keep her safe."

Zev stormed down the path to Chrissy's villa, the morning sun casting dappled patterns through the palm fronds overhead.

The file in his hand felt like it weighed a ton, its contents more explosive than dynamite.

His wolf prowled close to the surface, still agitated from the revelations that had come to light.

After killing Marty, he'd expected to feel closure, but these new discoveries had reopened everything with a vengeance.

He didn't bother knocking. As Alpha and her mate, he had every right to burst in—though he tempered his entrance out of respect for Jim. The scent of coffee and pancakes hit his nose as he stepped through the door.

Chrissy looked up from where she sat across from her father at the small dining table, her hair piled messily atop her head, wearing a faded band t-shirt that slipped off one shoulder. The sight of her—safe, alive, and his—momentarily soothed the rage burning in his gut.

"Morning, sunshine," she said, her smile faltering as she took in his expression. "What's wrong? You look like you're about to shift and bite someone's head off."

"That's exactly what I wish I could do," Zev growled, tossing the file onto the table between their plates. "We found out who Marty really was."

Chrissy's father set down his coffee mug, suddenly alert. "What do you mean, 'who he really was'?"

Zev dragged a chair closer to Chrissy and sat down, taking her hand in his, his thumb absently stroking her pulse point as if reassuring himself of her heartbeat.

"His real name was Matthew Silas Rourke. He's been on the FBI's most wanted list for six years." Zev's voice came out rough, each word carrying the weight of suppressed fury. "For the murders of five women."

Chrissy's face drained of color. "What?"

"Five talented young women. All with dark hair and fair skin. All curvy and beautiful." His grip tightened on her hand. "All like you."

Jim let out a strangled sound, his face ashen. "Jesus Christ."

"He was grooming you, Chrissy. Isolating you from your father and controlling every aspect of your life.

" Zev's eyes burned with intensity. "You weren't just another client to him.

You were his next victim." He paused, taking a steadying breath.

"My guess, he was going to marry you and make a big spectacle out of it.

Milk you for some more money and fame, painting himself as the doting husband and manager, and then…

" Zev didn't need to finish his thought.

Chrissy swayed in her chair, and Zev's arm shot around her waist to steady her. "I think I'm going to be sick," she whispered.

"I should have been there," Jim muttered, his hands shaking. "I should have seen it?—"

"There's more," Zev cut in, gentling his voice as he looked back to Chrissy. "There's good news too."

He flipped open the file to the contract page, his finger landing on the signature line. "Your contract is with Martin J. Shriner—a man who doesn't legally exist. The entire thing is worthless. His company, his credentials, all of it was built on fraud."

Chrissy stared at the paper, her bright green eyes widening. "You mean...I'm free?"

"You're free," Zev confirmed, giving her a fierce smile. "Though I want our legal team to make absolutely certain there are no loose ends with Empire Records."

"Can you..." Chrissy bit her lip. "Can you and your team help me with that? I don't even know where to start."

Zev let out a low laugh that held more wolf than human. "I have a better idea." He leaned in, the possessive gleam in his eyes making her breath catch. "I'm buying Empire Records."

"You're what?" Chrissy and Jim exclaimed in unison.

"I'm a billionaire, remember?" Zev's voice held a predatory edge. "I'll acquire the label, rebrand it whatever name you want, and you and your father will be the first artists signed. On your terms, with contracts that respect your talent and autonomy."

Jim let out a disbelieving laugh. "You'd do that?"

"For my mate?" Zev's gaze never left Chrissy's face. "I'd burn down the entire industry and rebuild it from ashes if that's what she needed."

Chrissy shook her head, her expression cycling through shock, horror, relief, and disbelief. "I can't believe this. If Gerri didn't get me out when she did... if you hadn't..." Her voice broke.

"I didn't want to say this to make you feel even worse.

But we found evidence just this morning that he was planning to take you on a 'honeymoon' in six months.

You would have disappeared, just like the others.

" Zev pulled her closer, the wolf in him needing to feel her alive and safe.

"The thought of what could have happened?—"

"You're a guardian angel," Jim said quietly. "Both of you—you and Gerri. You saved my little girl's life."

Zev shook his head, even as his chest swelled with pride.

"Gerri started the ball rolling. That woman knew something was wrong the moment she met Marty months ago.

She's the one who gathered the initial intelligence, and who helped Chrissy escape.

I just did what any mate would do—protect what's mine. "

Chrissy was staring at him, her eyes luminous with emotion. "So I'm really free? I can make my music, my way?"

"More than free." Zev cupped her face in his large hand.

"You're powerful now. With my resources behind you, you can reshape the industry however you want.

Make music that means something. Help other artists avoid the traps you fell into.

" He pressed his forehead against hers. "And I'll be right beside you, supporting every wild, beautiful idea that comes out of that brilliant head. "

"That's one hell of a business proposition, Alpha," she whispered, her lips curling into a teasing smile despite the tears in her eyes.

Zev growled softly, a sound that made Jim clear his throat and suddenly become very interested in his coffee mug.

"It's not business, Luna. It's an investment in our future together. All of us." Zev met Jim's eyes, and Jim gave a knowing nod of approval.