I stood in front of the towering building that housed Gareth Laken’s corporate empire, my fingers clenched tight around the belt of my trench coat. My legs felt like they belonged to someone else. Every part of me screamed to turn around and go home.
But I couldn’t. I took a shaky breath and stepped inside. The heels I wore clicked loudly on the marble floor, echoing through the spacious, glass-walled lobby. Heads turned. My heart pounded.
I walked straight toward the front desk, every step fueled by my mother’s cries from the night before. The sound kept playing in my head like a broken record.
‘I’d rather offer myself to Gareth than be Elliot’s hidden plaything for the rest of my life.’
Still, I couldn’t stop thinking about how many beautiful women Gareth probably had. Polished. Powerful. Confident. I was none of those things.
I tightened the belt around my waist, feeling the silk of the lingerie beneath my coat cling to my skin. I hated how exposed I felt, even if no one could see it.
The receptionist, a blonde with sharp red nails and sharper eyes, looked me up and down like I was a stain on her desk.
“I’m here to see Mr. Laken,” I said quietly.
Her lips twisted into a smirk. “Do you have an appointment?”
“No, but—”
“Then come back when you do.” She flicked her nails against the desk and turned back to her computer. “He doesn’t take walk-ins.”
My jaw tightened. “It’s important. Tell him Jasmine Lowett is here.”
“Look, sweetheart,” she said with a mocking smile, “you and every other desperate girl in this city. Mr. Laken isn’t available for… drop-bys.”
My face burned. My wolf growled low inside me, humiliated and angry.
“I’m not leaving until—”
“What the hell is going on here?”
The receptionist flinched at the voice behind me. Deep and cold.
I turned. Gareth stood at the entrance to the reception, coat draped over one arm, eyes narrowed as he took in the scene.
He looked at me, long and hard then shifted his attention to the receptionist.
“I don’t recall hiring you to judge who gets to see me,” he said. “And you definitely don’t have the authority to turn people away at the door.”
The woman paled. “I—I didn’t know she was—”
“You don’t need to know. Just do your job.”
I couldn't help the small flicker of satisfaction that passed through me as Gareth scolded the receptionist. Her smug look disappeared fast as his voice cut like a blade, and for just a second, I held her gaze but she looked away first.
He turned to me. “Come with me.” I didn’t speak, I just walked and followed Gareth into the elevator, my heart hammering in my chest.
His office was everything I imagined it would be, spacious, sleek, and powerful. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed the city skyline, and dark furniture sat polished and perfect, like everything in his world.
Gareth shut the door behind us with a quiet click. My wolf stirred as soon as we stepped inside, stretching, pleased. She liked the space. Liked him. Liked the way he stood up for us downstairs.
I did too. Maybe he liked me enough to call me in instead of letting me walk out humiliated. That small hope gave me the courage to stand straighter, even as my heart raced.
He walked to the desk, setting down his coat, then looked at me with calm, hooded eyes. “You’ve got my attention. What’s the matter?”
I exhaled slowly. “It’s my father.”
His brows lifted slightly, but he didn’t speak, letting me continue.
“They arrested him yesterday,” I said, forcing myself to keep eye contact. “The Lycans claim he stole ten million dollars from one of the companies under Ashborne’s control.”
He didn’t react. No surprise, no emotion. Just silence.
“He’s innocent,” I pressed. “He doesn’t even have the access to do something like that. They’ve made him a scapegoat. I’m begging you… please, help me get him out.”
He leaned back in his chair and still said nothing. I stepped closer. “I’ll pay the money back, whatever it takes. Even if it takes me the rest of my life.”
Gareth leaned against the edge of the desk, folding his arms across his chest. “That’s a very big favor, Jasmine.”
“I know.” My throat tightened.
His gaze was steady, sharp. “So… what do I get in return?”
The question dropped between us like a weight. I swallowed hard. I knew this was coming and I’d prepared myself for it. Still, my fingers trembled at my sides.
I took another step forward, closing the distance between us. My heart slammed against my ribs, but I forced myself to hold his gaze.
“You remember what happened last night?” I said softly. “Before… I left?”
His eyes flicked down my body briefly, then back to my face.
“I didn’t forget,” I added, voice lower now. “And I don’t think you did either.”
I reached out and gently touched the edge of his suit jacket, my fingers grazing the fabric, the heat between us sparked back to life.
“I want to make a deal.”
Gareth didn’t move. But his eyes darkened. His wolf stirred beneath the surface. And I knew I had his full attention.
“What can you offer me in return?” he asked again, his voice low and even.
I took a step forward, my fingers trembling slightly as they moved to the belt of my trench coat. I hesitated.
Then slowly, I untied it. The fabric slipped from my shoulders in one smooth motion, falling to the floor with a whisper.
Underneath, I wore a black lace set, delicate, sheer in all the right places, hugging every curve. It had taken everything I had to wear it out. But I didn’t look away. I couldn’t afford to. It left nothing to the imagination.
Gareth’s nostrils flared, just for a second, but that was all I needed. The hunger in his gaze hit me like a jolt of fire. Good. Let him want me. Let him burn.
“If this is what it takes…” I said softly, breathing in slowly, “then I’m yours.”
His jaw tightened. His fingers twitched at his sides like he was holding himself back while his eyes devoured my body.
I took another step. “I’m a virgin,” I said, voice barely above a whisper. “But I’m on birth control. I know what I’m offering.”
His eyes shot back to mine, darker now. He appeared to be barely hanging on.
“You’re serious?” he growled.
I nodded once, steady now. My fear was still there, but I buried it under layers of desperation and something wicked that woke up when I saw the way he looked at me.
“I’m willing to do what you ask,” I whispered. “Whatever you want.”
He tilted his head, his gaze burning. “Anything?”
A beat passed. Then another. I nodded again, even though my heart was thudding so hard I thought it might crack my ribs.
“Anything.”
He stood up and came very close. I could feel his heat, his power pressing against my skin.
His knuckles brushed the side of my jaw, trailing down my throat with maddening slowness. My breath caught as my skin burned.
“You came here,” he said, voice rough, “dressed like this… ready to bargain your body, for your father’s freedom?”
I swallowed hard. “Yes.”
His thumb stroked along my collarbone, just above the lace, where his mark still bloomed from the night before. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Jasmine.”
“I don’t have a choice.”
His hand slid around to the back of my neck, pulling me just a little closer. His breath was warm against my lips. The tension between us crackled—hot, electric, suffocating.
My knees went weak. My body screamed for his touch. He leaned in, lips almost brushing mine.
“Do you think I won’t take what you’re offering?” he murmured.
“I’m counting on it.” That did something to him.
His grip tightened slightly, and his other hand slid to my waist, firm and possessive.
“You have no idea what you’re doing to me,” he growled.
“Then show me,” I whispered expectantly. I was on fire. My whole body craved him. I stared into his eyes as my body arched of their own accord. My breath quickened sharply.
His hand lifted slowly, reaching toward me—my lips parted, my own control hanging by a thread.