“Maybe,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck. “But right now, it’s the lesser of two evils. I don’t want the pack living in fear. We need to figure out a way to spin this so the pack doesn’t lose their shit.”
“I’m really not sure that’s the best route.” Liza shifted in her seat. “I think it’s better to be honest. The more lies we try to hide, the worse it will be. Yes, Cecily is dead, and that’s devastating, but she was working with our enemy. We have to tell the pack the truth.”
My father sighed, nodding in agreement. “Your mate has a point, Ty. Nico showed us the proof, and there’s no denying Cecily was Castro’s foot soldier. She set up the scavenger hunts and is just as guilty in all this as Castro. Cecily was a traitor, and as much as it hurts to admit, she paid the ultimate price with her life.”
Mom nodded. “We don’t want to paint her as a horrible person, especially since her family will still remain in the pack, so we have to keep some peace between our members. But Liza’s right. There are consequences for our actions and, unfortunately, Cecily’s death was a result of her own terrible choices.”
With our decision made, I retreated to my office to work on the speech I would deliver to the pack about the truth of Cecily’s demise. It wouldn’t be easy to tell them the truth, but I would have to do it. I had no choice.
My fingers rested on the keyboard while I tried to decide how best to start the solemn speech. After an hour of typing and deleting, copying and pasting, I sat back and sighed. “Damn it.” I stood and paced the floor, taking a sip of water, then loosened my tie and unbuttoned my collar.
Once I was refocused, my fingers flew across the keyboard as I chose my words carefully, striving to strike a balance between honesty and reassurance. There was no need for more fear and uncertainty.
Liza entered the office, her presence a warm comfort in the midst of my turmoil. Her eyes were soft with understanding as she crossed the room and perched herself on my lap, wrapping her arms around me.
“First week as alpha and we’re dealing with this crap.” I rested my forehead against hers. “It’s been one fucking issue after another. Hopefully, I can write a speech that keeps our pack united. I don’t want our people going bat-shit crazy with fear that Castro will murder them like he did Cecily.”
Liza craned her neck to look at the screen. “Is it okay if I read what you have so far?”
I nodded, watching as her eyes scanned the screen, trying to gauge her reaction, and feeling surprisingly nervous about what my mate would think of the words I’d written.
A thoughtful expression crossed her face, and she turned to me. “It’s good, Ty. Honest but compassionate. The pack needs to know the truth, but they also need to know we have the strength to deal with it.”
“Thanks,” I said with relief. Liza’s approval meant I must’ve struck the right tone. We couldn’t change the past or bring Cecily back, but we could learn from her mistakes and ensure that our pack remained united in the face of adversity.
I looked into her eyes, thankful for her unwavering support. “Thank you, Liza. Your faith in me means more than you’ll ever know.”
“Of course.” She lowered her head and kissed me gently. “This is horrible, but we’ll get through this and anything else thrown our way.”
I hoped she was right, but all I could think about was Castro kicking our asses at every turn and laughing as he watched us scramble.
66
LIZA
“Son of a bitch.” I shoved my finger into my mouth, tasting the metallic tang of blood after slicing my finger on the edge of a printed recipe sheet. There’s normal pain and then there’s papercut pain. It made me think of the sayingdeath by a thousand papercuts.The sharp, searing sting could easily be an effective form of torture.
I sat back and looked around at the new furniture that had been delivered a few days ago. The ergonomic seat I’d bought cost more than all the furniture I’d ever owned combined, but Ty insisted I get the best of the best. I didn’t like to be wasteful, but he’d argued it would be better to buy quality furniture that would last rather than cheap stuff that would need to be replaced. Who was I to argue?
Now that Ty was alpha, his parents had moved to a smaller cottage on the Keller Estate, and we’d moved into the big house. The decision to convert one of the guest rooms so I could work from home hadn’t been difficult. It would save on travel on the days I didn’t have to report to the main office.
I sat at the walnut desk that overlooked the rambling backyard. I wanted to review the list of potential fall recipes I’dbeen working on. Pumpkin risotto with sage, a hearty beef stew infused with red wine, and an apple pecan tart were just a few of the dishes that made my mouth water at the mere thought. There was something about the shift in the air each season that put me in the mood to create new dishes that reflected the weather. Making comfort food was my favorite season, so of course, I’d have to test each recipe, sometimes multiple times. I hoped Ty wouldn’t mind putting on a few pounds since I planned on cooking up a storm.
As the alpha’s mate, my role within the pack had changed, and so too must my career. It wouldn’t be acceptable for the alpha’s wife to be seen working for pack members. I’d no longer be able to work as a private chef in other people’s kitchens. Now that I held a position of power, I had a whole new set of responsibilities I needed to take care of.
Cooking had always been my passion, and the idea of giving up the business I’d worked so hard to establish didn’t sit right with me. My catering company would continue to operate, though I would have more of a behind-the-scenes role rather than being directly involved.
I’d devised a plan in a way that meant I’d be able to continue doing what I loved. The kitchen in my new home—it felt surreal to call the Keller Estate home—was as spacious and well-equipped as any commercial kitchen. I’d cook from here, preparing meals that would then be delivered to my clients.
As much as my life had changed since becoming Ty’s mate, including the rise in my standing within the pack, I had to maintain some semblance of stability from my old life. I wouldn’t feel comfortable just sitting back idly twiddling my thumbs—that was out of the question—but I wouldn’t let go of my favorite hobby, either.
This way, I’d have the best of both worlds. I’d be Liza, mate to the pack alpha, as well as Liza, chef and small businessowner.
With this plan in mind, I turned my attention from the recipes to type up an ad for an assistant chef and driver. The requirements included culinary experience, a valid driver’s license, and the ability to adapt to the ever-changing demands of our clientele. My company didn’t just serve typical middle-class families. As my place in society had risen, so had the status of my clients. Whoever I hired needed to provide a five-star experience because, frankly, that’s what my customers expected, no matter their standing in the pack.
I read through the job description one last time, a satisfied smile tugging at the corners of my lips. After posting it on a local social media page, I sent out emails to my clients, informing them about the new arrangements. My delivery service would come at no cost to them, as I’d been the one who altered the dynamics of our relationship. Those who understood would hopefully appreciate my efforts to continue providing them with delicious meals. Those who didn’t? Well, that was fine, too. If my inbox was anything to go by, there would be plenty of people who’d happily take their place.
After I hit send on the last email, I leaned back in my chair, reveling in the satisfaction of having taken control of my career. Cooking was my lifeblood, and I wouldn’t let being the alpha’s mate strip that away from me.
