Chapter 3 The Corporate Apex

Vance Enterprises is not a building. It's a mirror. 48 floors of glass on St Georges Terrace, opposite Bellerose Tower. Perth sun hits it at 4pm and it throws light back at the city like a middle finger. You can't see inside. Inside you can see everything.

I had never been inside. Heiresses of Bellerose Tower don't go to Vance Enterprises. We cross the street to avoid it. Old beef. Lithium vs old money. Wolf vs wolf.

Now I was going inside because my mother might be alive in my penthouse and two men told me to choose who owns me and I chose neither. I ran. Service lift down, out through the bin room, across the terrace in the rain, blue jumper with hole, tote bag with red dress falling out, and into the mirror building.

The receptionist said: "Mr. Vance doesn't take walk-ins."

I said: "Tell him honey blood is in the lobby."

She looked at my jumper hole and called security. Security looked at me and then his earpiece buzzed and he went white.

"38 - sorry - 48th floor. He says come up. Now."

Glass elevator. No buttons. It just goes.

48th floor. Doors open. Cold hits you. Not aircon cold. Money cold.

Boardroom. Glass-fronted, three sides glass, city under you, Swan River like silver ribbon you can step on and own. Table long, black, 20 chairs, all empty except one man at head.

Kaelen Vance.

Not the Kaelen from last night in t-shirt with mud boots. This Kaelen is Corporate Apex.

Black suit, but not Silas navy suit. Black on black. Shirt black, tie black, but tie loose. Sleeves rolled up to elbows, forearms thick, veins, tattoo - Southern Cross, five stars, black ink that moves when he moves because muscle moves. Hair tied back, wet, like he just came from shower or rain or fight. Massive frame that makes boardroom chair look small. And faint tremor, massive frame tremor, like wolf inside is cold and angry and trying to get out.

He doesn't look up. He is reviewing financial portfolios. Three screens in front of him, papers spread, red and green numbers.

On screen: VANCE ENTERPRISES - GREENBUSHES LITHIUM - Q3.

He speaks while reading.

"You took 9 minutes to run from Bellerose 38th to Vance 48th. In the rain. In a jumper with a hole. You left a red dress on Silas floor. Stupid. That dress was worth $2,000."

He knows. Of course he knows. Wolves know.

"I didn't know where else to go," I say. My voice is small in a glass room. "Silas said my mother is alive in 42A."

Kaelen finally looks up.

Amber eyes. Not grey to amber flicker like Silas. Permanent amber. Alpha amber. Pain in them, not collector cold.

"She is alive," he says. "Silas didn't lie about that. He lies about everything else. Your mother, Elara Bellerose, was his Luna for 4 years. 2018 to 2022. Not a dead car crash. He staged a crash. Empty coffin in Karrakatta with PAY spray - that's K marking territory, but the coffin was empty long before K sprayed it. Silas kept her in Peppermint Grove library because of honey blood..."

He stops, inhales, jaw clenches, tremor gets worse.

"Honey blood makes unstable alphas stable. My tremor - this -" he holds out hand, massive hand shaking faintly, " - is because I don't have Luna. Southern Cross Pack alphas need Luna to anchor the wolf. Without Luna, the wolf shakes, then breaks, then goes feral. Silas knows. He used your mother to stop his shake. For 4 years she kept him stable. Then she got sick. Caged honey blood gets sick. So he let her go. Put her in your penthouse this morning to bait you."

Bait.

I sit, because legs shake too, but not from wolf, from $28.50 an hour life.

"You review portfolios while your wolf shakes?" I ask.

He smiles, not a nice smile, but a painful smile. "I have to. The Southern Cross board is here."

He taps the intercom. "Come in."

The side door opens. Four men enter. Old suits, grey hair, no tattoos, but smell - I smell now, honey blood nose now open - they smell like old wolves. Southern Cross Pack board.

They look at me like I am meat on black table.

"Kaelen," oldest says, "we discussed. Stability wedding. You are 32. Alpha of Greenbushes, Vance Enterprises, $4B lithium. You shake in front of investors. Last week in Sydney you almost shifted in a meeting. You need Luna. Now."

Second: "Winchcombe has Luna. Silas is stable because he had Elara. Now he wants a daughter. If he gets Thalia-Vesper, West Coast Pack will be stable for next 10 years and we lose Terrace. You cannot let him have honey blood."

Third, look at me, at my jumper hole, at ash under my nails. "This is a Bellerose girl? The virgin honey blood? She is... small. Poor. But blood is blood. Does she know?"

Kaelen's tremor gets worse. Hand on table, gripping edge, wood creaks.

"She knows," Kaelen says, voice low, holding the wolf back. "She was offered a contract by Silas. One year. Companion. Luna for board. He offers $4.8m clear."

Board laughs.

"That's cheap," the oldest says. "We offer $7m. And the penthouse back. And mother medical care. She needs care, Elara, she is in 42A now, shaking worse than Kaelen, honey blood withdrawal."

Mother is shaking worse than Kaelen. In my penthouse that leaks.

"And what do you want for $7m?" I ask, because now I know the price. $200k one night, $1.2m to buy from syndicate, $4.8m tower, $7m for Luna.

Kaelen looks at me, amber eyes, tremor in a massive frame that makes black table shake too.

"I want what Silas wants," he says, honestly, no collector's game. "I want you to sit near me when the wolf shakes. I want to smell honey blood so I sleep. I want you to wear dresses that can be torn, but only I tear them. For one year. Be my stable wedding. Not a real wedding. Pack wedding. Luna ceremony. Everyone in Perth packs will see you are mine, so Silas can't take you, K can't take you. You will be safe. Your father is safe. Your mother is safe. In return, I pay $7m in debt, I make K disappear - not buy him, disappear him - and I give you an archive job back but at $90 an hour, not $28.50, because you shouldn't brush ash for pittance."

$90 an hour. That's $450 a day. That's the dignity of paying the power bill.

Board: "And virginity?"

Kaelen growls. Real growl. Glass vibrates. Three-sided glass boardroom and Swan River outside ripples.

"Don't talk about her virginity like it's lithium grade," he snaps, tremor now full shake, massive frame shaking. "She is not mine yet. She is not to be graded."

The oldest board man steps back, scared. "Alpha, control."

Kaelen stands, chair flies back, hits glass, doesn't break, but he grabs the edge of black table and bends it. Real bends. Metal screams.

"I can't control without Luna!" he shouts, amber eyes bright, teeth showing, canines longer now, not human, "You demand a stable wedding but you bring me no Luna! You bring me portfolios! You bring me Q3! I need honey blood! I need - "

He stops. Look at me. The smell hits him. Honey blood, fear, rain, ash under nails.

He drops to knees. In front of me. Massive frame on knees, head down, shaking, like dog, like wolf, in $4B boardroom in front of board who came to demand wedding.

"Please," he whispers, only for me, not board, voice broken, not Alpha, just man who hasn't slept because wolf shakes. "Thalia-Vesper. I know Silas had your mother. I know that makes me the same as him. But I am not a collector. I don't keep girls in the library. I... I will keep you in the penthouse you own, with rain fixed, with lights that don't flicker. I will not touch you unless you say so. One year. Say yes and I stop shaking. Say yes and your mother lives. Say no and Silas takes you tonight at 42A and you will see what 4 years in the library does to honey blood. Please. Choose me. Not because you love me. Because you hate him more."

Board silent. Glass silent. The city under us is silent.

My phone buzzes. Unknown number. Photo. My penthouse. The door opened. Inside, on floor, woman. Thin, hair long, white, like mother but 8 years older, eyes closed, shaking, same tremor as Kaelen, but worse. Wearing a cashmere robe like mine. My mother's old robe.

Caption: She woke up. She asks for you. Come home now or she sleeps again forever.

Silas sent a photo from my home.

Kaelen sees a photo, growls, stands, a massive frame between me and glass, blocking the board view of me.

"Don't go," he says. "He will lock you both. He wants mother and daughter Luna. Two honey bloods, one cage. That's why he emptied the coffin."

Two honey bloods. One cage. Mother and daughter.

I have to go. But if I go to 42A, I go to Silas. If I stay at 48, I will go to Kaelen.

I look at Kaelen, on knees, shaking, offering $7m and $90 an hour dignity, and on the phone, mother shaking on the floor.