“After we see you safely inside,” Rett says, and again it’s as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
I roll my eyes, unable to keep the huff of a laugh from my nose as I shake my head. “Alright.”
I turn and unlock my door, pushing it open. Just as I’m about to step inside and close it behind me, my phone rings in my purse. I fish it out, expecting it to be Leah checking in, but the screen shows Helen’s name.
“My boss,” I explain to the four men hovering in my doorway. “Give me a second.” I accept the call. “Hello?”
“Zoe! Thank god.” Helen’s voice is high and tight with panic. So loud I’m sure the Sterlings can hear her. “Where are you?”
I straighten immediately, alarm bells ringing in my head. “At home. What’s wrong?”
I feel rather than see the four alphas behind me go on high alert, their postures shifting from casual to tense in an instant.
“The gallery! It’s been broken into!” The words tumble out in a rush. “The police are here now. They want to know what’s missing, but I don’t—I can’t?—”
“Slow down,” I say, turning slightly away from the alphas, though I know they can hear every word. “What happened? Is anyone hurt?”
“No, no, nothing like that,” she assures me. “But Zoe, several pieces are missing, including—” Her voice breaks slightly. “Including the centerpiece from the Sparne collection.”
My stomach drops. The Sparne collection is our biggest exhibition of the year. The same one the Davelles said they would sponsor. This is a disaster.
“I’ll be right there,” I promise, already mentally cataloging what I’ll need. “Twenty minutes, tops.”
“Thank you,” Helen says, relief evident in her voice. “I’m sorry to call so late, but you know the collection better thananyone, and the police need a complete inventory of what’s missing.”
“Of course,” I say. “I’m on my way.”
I hang up and turn back to the doorway, where four alphas are no longer looking at me with soft concern. They are looking at me with the cold, hard focus of a security team that has just been activated.
“You’re not going alone,” Rett says, his tone making it clear this is not up for debate.
I open my mouth to argue, but the determined set of their jaws tells me it would be pointless. And if I’m being honest with myself, the thought of facing a break-in at the gallery alone is daunting.
“Fine,” I concede, grabbing my jacket from the hook by the door. “But you follow my lead. This is my workplace, not a Sterling Solutions security operation.”
Rett nods once, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Of course.”
I step back into the hallway, pulling my door closed behind me, and just like that, we’re off. The beta and her alpha security detail are headed for a crime scene.
God help me.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Rett
The moment I hear Helen’s panicked voice through Zoe’s phone, something shifts inside me. A switch flips in my brain. The restless, chaotic energy that’s been thrumming under my skin all night suddenly settles into a single, sharp point of focus. It’s like my entire being has become a tuning fork, and the threat to Zoe is the only note I can hear.
Someone broke into Zoe’s gallery. Her territory. And in doing so, they just declared war on mine.
“You’re not going alone,” I tell Zoe, not bothering to disguise the command in my voice.
She opens her mouth like she’s about to argue, then seems to think better of it. Good.
“Fine,” she says, grabbing her jacket. “But you follow my lead. This is my workplace, not a Sterling Solutions security operation.”
I nod once, allowing myself a small smile at her assertion of control even now. “Of course.”
The second she turns for the door, the fragile calm shatters.
