Page 139 of Blood and Trouble

AVA

“We’ll need to get Fitz Global in on the agreement,” I said, leaning back in my chair. The men around me typed on their laptops, documenting all the instructions I’d given so far. “And ensure DuBois is aligned.”

“On it,” my director of investments said, nodding.

“Perfect,” I said. “Anything else?”

When no one said anything, I ended the meeting and let everybody go five minutes early.

See? I can be generous sometimes.

My executive assistant caught up to me as I walked back to my office.

“Scott Fitzgerald called,” she said. “Again.”

I sighed. “Christopher will reach out to him later today.”

“He asked to speak with you,” she said.

“Fine.” I pushed into my office on the tenth floor of Vanderbilt Holdings and rounded my desk, sat down, and picked up the phone to wait for my EA to dial the number for me.

“Lonnie! Wonderful to hear from you.” He sounded entirely too happy for ten a.m. Though it was early afternoon in the UK, so I let it slide.

“Scott,” I said. “What is it?”

He went through his objections to the latest pass of our new amendment to the contract, and I talked him through the rest of the particulars, negotiating with him in the same tone I’d always used. All these years gone by, and that hadn’t changed. Wouldn’t change.

It was the one thing about me I’d grown to love. I used to be ashamed of it, afraid of how the world painted me. The Vanderbilt bitch, carved from the same ice block as her sister. Now, I wore it as a badge of honor because I knew better.

I was cold. I was frigid. In this corporate hellhole, I had to be. People like Scott would walk all over me if I weren’t. But…that wasn’t all I was. I was a wife. A mate. A shifter. A powerhouse of Vanderbilt strength that I’d inherited from both of my parents. My father taught me the value of discipline, and my mother taught me the force of love and sacrifice. Both could exist. Both could be true.

After we hung up, I finished my work for the day and headed down to the ground level, where Poe greeted me with a huge hug and a big kiss.

“There she is,” he said, scooping me in his arms. “My beautiful badass.”

I laughed. “You don’t have to pick me up every day. We employ drivers for a reason.”

He shrugged. “I like being the first one you see when you get off work.”

“Hmm.” I sensed a game afoot, but let it slide, glancing down at his motorcycle with my helmet hanging off the back. It was the second anniversary of marrying Lycan today, and based on how things went last year, I figured those two were in cahoots.

Of course, last year, I’d gone into heat right afterward, and the three of us were locked in our cabin for a week. It didn’t take, but that was okay. We weren’t sure if we wanted pups. Maybe one day.

“I thought you were bringing the Range Rover.”

“The weather’s nice,” he said, nodding toward it. “Get on.”

“I can’t ride a bike in this.” I gestured down to my flowy skirt and heels.

“Oh, come on,” he said with a grin. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid.”

“I’m not,” I protested, rather weakly. I lived with a motorcycle club. I’d been on the back of a bike plenty of times. “The wind will blow up my skirts.”

He widened his goofy smile. “I’m planning on it.”

Deciding I could use the fresh air, I put my helmet on and stretched a leg over the pillion seat, wrapping my arms around his midsection while he kicked the beast to life. I watched the skyline zoom by us on the ride home, safety and security settling in my gut.

I loved my life. I loved my mates and my home and my family, both found and given at birth. I thought back to the girl I used to be, the timid, lonely thing who worked herself ragged and gave everything she had for everyone else. I understood how she came to be that way, how she had to differentiate herself from those around her: her twin, her sisters, her father. But now, two mates and two years later, with forever spanning out before me, I loved that I’d never be her again. I didn’t have to earn their affection. I didn’t have to earn my place in their life.