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“Where are the alphas you keep serving?” Silver snarls.
Serving? What am I, a tavern wench? I pull my arm free of her hold.
“Hi, Silver, nice to see you again. It’s been a while. Yes, I’m doing fine. How are you?”
“Oh, you’re always fine. I just want to know about them. Everything you can tell me.” Silver brushes her hair behind her ears, and I’m momentarily distracted by the diamond earrings she’s wearing.
“That would be a serious breach of my contract, and I would be fired immediately and never get a job with Treyfield again.” I snap at her and take a seat. I grab a scone from the middle of the table and butter it. Then add a thick layer of apricot jam.
“So?”
I cut her a sharp glare and resume slathering my scone. “So, we need this job.”
“Not if I land them as a pack. You’ll never have to work again. We can organise, like, a lump sum payment.” She takes a seat beside me and steals my scone.
I stare at her and reach for another scone, break it in half, and repeat the slathering. “I’m not doing that.”
Silver’s face morphs, and I see the side of her she tries so hard to hide. “You owe me.”
“No, I don’t.”
“It’s your fault we don’t have parents. It’s your fault we’re broke. And it’s your fault my pack left me. You owe me, little sister.” Her rage is not new, but it isn’t hitting the same way it normally does. I take a bite of the scone. It's delicious.
“Onyx, I swear to god, you will pay if you ruin this for me.”
I shudder at the venom in her voice, but I’m not truly worried. She would never let anyone see her like this. She won’t cause a scene here. I can hear people on the other side of the door.
“Get me an in with that pack.”
“They have an omega.” I snap back at her.
“Nothing is signed yet.” Silver leans back with a smug smile, and for the first time, I focus on her. Her hair is perfect, with shine and volume. The new cut is styled to show off how round her face is. Her eyes have eyeliner that goes from black to smokey grey, and her lips glimmer coral. But it’s the clothes that melt my brain. I've seen those clothes on recent celebrities in magazines. How did she afford them?
How long do I have to work to pay them back? There’s a panicked whistle screeching in my brain.
“Silver, where did you get those clothes?” I manage to get out in a strangled whisper.
“My friends bought them for me. You can pay them back later. Especially since you're friends with the pack now.”
I stare at her, feeling the blood drain from my face, leaving me dizzy and feeling so very old. “I will not do it.”
Silver fluffs her hair and spins in the seat so she’s facing the table. She reaches out with one perfectly manicured hand and plucks a muffin from the basket. “You will, though. Because you always do.”
“Why not one of the other packs?” I plead. “Just pick someone else.”
“Because I want that one.”
Fire ignites inside me. “You’re not having that one. Pick another.” I snap at her.
She gives me a sharp look and then lifts a shoulder and lets it drop casually. “Fine. I mean, sure. But, you know, how would they feel about all the jobs you’ve done?”
I glare at her.
“Your threats aren’t getting anywhere with me.” I snap at her. “All my jobs were honestly done. I'm not ashamed of where I’ve worked.”
Silver smiles, but it has no affection in it. She’s dropped her mask completely. This is the sister I know.
“Do they know all the jobs you’ve worked? Do you?”
