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Time for round two, only this time wouldn’t allow me a single moment of satisfaction, at least not as a wolf. A little kink of my requirement to follow a strict list as mandated by my employer.
Then again, what was wrong with hunting a beautiful woman?
I turned sharply, walking into the shadows.
After all, I was the thing nightmares were made of, even for damsels in distress.
CHAPTER3
Vanessa
I will whip you.
I will chain you.
I will keep you.
Had he even spoken the words?
I shuddered, licking my dry lips as I shifted my thoughts to the dream from the night before. Stone had infused every fantasy with his intense command, his dark and demanding methods leaving me covered in perspiration.
“There is nowhere you can run where I won’t find you.”
I almost knocked over my coffee, the statement in Stone’s voice the very one the monster from my nightmares said every time. I had to be losing my mind, my anxiety from what I was attempting to do crushing what was left of my sanity. I swallowed several times, trying to pull my shit together. Stone and I had agreed there was nothing left between us and that’s where it was going to remain. I had work to do.
I’d done the right thing.
He would have never understood my craziness.
Secrets.
My mother had lived with them her entire life, which meant I’d been forced to as well. I’d hated her for years until recently, turning off my emotions and anger of the past. She had no control over me or my destiny. She had her life and I had mine. I was still firmly convinced that the only way to find any information about my father was through my current employer.
A freaking needle in a haystack.
Maybe I’d turn what I’d found over as state’s evidence. That was if I didn’t get myself arrested in the process. I hissed at the thought.
Now I was embroiled in secrets held closely by Chris Montenegro as well as a heightened level of danger. A spy I wasn’t, no matter my background and training. While the patriarch had been in charge twenty-some years ago, his son was cut from the same cloth.
Brutal.
Ruthless.
A liar.
I’d spent enough years prosecuting animals to spot a sophisticated criminal, the kind who could hide behind suave attire and a polished demeanor with ease. Meanwhile, I had the feeling he hired people to do his dirty work.
What little I’d already discovered about the man and his company had turned the dreams I’d had for years into chilling nightmares, the images so bloody and vivid that I awakened often in a cold sweat. By all rights, I should contact a friend from the FBI, a man I’d worked with on and off over the years. He’d know exactly what to do with the clear indication of extortion I’d found.
But that wasn’t the information I’d been looking for, just a bonus.
Or a catalyst to end my life.
I was at my final straw in an attempt to find my father after all the years of nagging my mother. The last bitter argument we’d had almost two years before had set my wheels in motion, becoming desperate to learn anything. She’d simply tossed out that my father had been a horrible man and deserved every day he rotted in prison. After that, she’d forbidden me to ever bring up the subject again. With no details or even his name, no other relatives to try to glean information, I’d used my position as an attorney to begin my search. At first, I’d found nothing to even corroborate his mere existence, let alone her accusations.
Then accidentally I’d run across two love letters addressed to my mother from a man named Lucas. The words had been so beautiful, full of passion. He’d loved her so much. Meanwhile, she couldn’t tolerate the memory of him. There was even a single photograph, albeit from a distance, showing a dark-haired man. The strange connection I’d felt at that very moment had been electric. After some additional searching through her things, I’d found an envelope with a note. The words had obviously been scribbled in anger and a portion torn away, but I’d been able to recognize my mother’s handwriting.
Lucas Tremaine.
