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Chapter 1
Magnus
Emmett knocked once before bursting into my office unannounced, boots clomping on the rich mahogany floor. I didn't need to look up to know it was him. None of my employees would dare to make such a bold move.
Emmett had many fine qualities, but subtlety wasn’t one of them. My cousin had little regard for formalities, but he was as loyal as a bloodhound and just as tenacious. He was also a goddamn genius when it came to computers and sniffing out trouble. And right now, his skills were precisely what I needed, which is why he was here from Wyoming, helping me out. Because I had a traitor in my midst.
My fingers curled tighter around the arms of my leather chair as I raised my eyes to meet his.
A fleeting itch in my palm accompanied the urge, a primal sensation hinting at an often-suppressed, more bestial side of my nature. I rubbed the spot absently, the rough grain of the leather familiar beneath my touch as I quelled the instinctual response.
“Cuz, you gotta see this,” Emmett said, slapping a folder on my desk. “We’ve got trouble.”
I straightened in my leather chair, steeling myself as he slid the folder across the desk. I quirked an eyebrow. “And a good morning to you too, Emmett.”
He flashed me that crooked grin, the one that usually warned me he was stirring up trouble. In this instance, I hoped he was saving me from it. “Yeah, yeah. But seriously, check out what I found. You're not gonna like this.”
I stared down at the papers Emmett had spread across my desk, a knot forming in my gut.
“Someone's been siphoning money into offshore accounts. The amounts are small, but there are lots of them.” Emmett jabbed a finger at the spreadsheet.
I ran a hand through my hair, exhaling slowly as I processed Emmett's findings. The highlighted areas told a story I didn’t want to believe. But the evidence didn’t lie.
A part of me wished he’d come up empty, but Emmett didn’t deal in false leads. If he'd brought this to me, it was credible intel.
The thought of a traitor among us made my shoulders tighten under an invisible weight. Betrayal was a deeper cut than any enemy could inflict.
My jaw clenched as I scanned the evidence. My cousin was right–the hacker was subtle and had carefully concealed their tracks. Whoever was behind this knew what they were doing. But Emmett's skills were sharper.
“How long has this been going on?” I asked.
“Best I can tell, about three months.”
I sucked in a breath, mind racing over the implications. “Any indication of who's behind it?”
Each brother crossed my mind, each cousin. Trust was the cornerstone of our family, but now suspicion cast long shadows even upon those closest to me.
Emmett shook his head. “Covered their tracks well. But I'll keep digging.”
I closed the file, carefully concealing the tremor in my hands. “Let's keep this between us for now. No need to cast suspicion until we're sure.”
As I uttered those words, a deceptive calm settled over me, yet a sliver of doubt wedged itself in my thoughts. What if our response ensnared the innocent? The potential for collateral damage in this silent war we waged within our walls nibbled at my conscience. For the sake of our family legacy, I reassured myself that it was a necessary risk.
Leaning back in my chair, I exhaled slowly. The thought of deception festering in our ranks made my blood boil. As CEO of Grizzly Guardians Security, I owed it to our family legacy to protect what my father had built.
We were a family business–my five brothers, Thor, Marcus, Nox, Barrett, Orson, and me. Emmett was a Furbane, one of five maternal cousins living in Silverpaw Hollow. And we were all bear shifters.
Thor’s steady hand in logistics often made it seem like he had an inner compass, always pointing to the most efficient route. Marcus had a hawk's eye for detail, perfect for managing our financials. Nox’s intuition was almost supernatural, making him unmatched in human resources, while Barrett’s charm and quick wit piloted our public relations. Orson, the youngest, had the most to prove, but his innovative ideas for our security technologies had already improved our operations by leaps and bounds.
As for Emmett, I recalled the time he’d written an algorithm that exposed a major security flaw —a flaw other programmers had missed despite numerous audits. It had saved us from a potentially disastrous partnership and cemented Emmett's status as a wizard of the digital age among the Furbane cousins. And all this for something Emmett considered a hobby.
Strong, protective, loyal. It was a legacy I aimed to uphold, even as the weight of responsibility threatened to crush me.
Emmett kept talking, outlining the technical details, but his voice faded into background noise. Behind my eyes, memories arose unbidden—the day my father retired as CEO, trusting me to take up the mantle, the first time I sat in this very chair, shoulders back and determined to prove my worth.
My younger brothers looked to me to take the lead, make the hard calls, and carry the load. Most days, I was glad to fulfill that role. But Emmett’s findings threaten to undermine my company.
I'd given my all to this business, sacrificed personal pursuits out of duty and respect for the family legacy. And now a viper lurked in our midst, threatening everything we'd built. Anger welled up, hot and acidic. I swallowed it down. Anger made you sloppy.
