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My stomach tightens a notch. “Do you know the alpha’s name?”

Andy shakes her head. “They didn’t list it. Wanted it anonymous to keep the circle tight.”

“And you’re comfortable with being kept out of the loop?” I ask, arching a brow.

Andy is not someone they would leave outside the circle, so immediately I’m wary.

“I trust Lexi,” Andy says simply.

Ugh. So do I. Doesn’t mean I trust whoever’s on the other side of that door. Especially if it’s⁠—

Nope. Not going there. There are a dozen alphas within a day’s drive alone. It could be anyone. I force myself to relax.

Andy looks at me like she knows what I’m thinking before turning her attention back to her tablet. I’d been a bit surprised when Lexi had named Andy as her second, but I quickly realized I’d been wrong in my assumptions of the woman.

If you’d asked me a year ago whether I’d ever be friends with bombshell blondie Andy Balistrieri, widow of Toros—one of the cruelest generals the mafia pack has ever seen—I’d have laughed in your face. But fate has proven to have a twisted sense of humor of late. Andy’s friendship is not the most surprising addition to my life by a long shot.

Before I can contemplate exactly what is the most surprising, the office door opens.

I straighten, eyes narrowing automatically as the occupants file out.

Grey exits first.

My wolf perks up immediately at the sight of her alpha. Like she’s standing up straighter, more alert. The reaction is nothing like when his father, Vincenzo, was alpha. Where Vincenzo was chaotic and unpredictable, Grey is controlled. Where Vincenzo was cruel, Grey is kind. I am grateful every day that he returned to this city and fought for his place here. The world—or Indigo Hills, at least—would be a much worse place without him as an alpha in it and without his fated mate by his side.

Even I can admit these two are better together than apart. Which is extremely inconvenient evidence against my entire life philosophy, so I choose not to dwell on it.

Lexi Giovanni, high alpha of the mafia pack, emerges next. Her long hair is braided loosely down her back, which I know she only does when she’s trying to concentrate on paperwork and logistics and gets too impatient, having to swipe her hair aside.

I try to catch her eye or read their faces for some clue as to who this mystery visitor is or what the meeting has been about. But then Lexi steps aside, and I see who they’ve met with.

Holy wolf goddess.

Out of all the alphas it could have been, it’s him.

Nash Cross steps into the hall like it’s nothing to be here again after all this time. And looking at him, it feels like no time has passed at all.

Just like the night we met, he’s wearing a dark suit tailored to perfection. Shoulders broad enough to block out the light from the window at his back. A jawline that a sculptor would cry over. A mouth you want tasting your skin. The man is sinfully hot and dangerously good in bed—a fact I learned firsthand two years ago right before we swore we’d never see each other again.

So, now he’s a liar to boot.

And I have big feelings about that, judging from the way my heart is pounding and I can’t quite breathe.

Nash’s dark eyes find mine immediately.

Not searching.

Not hesitant.

Direct. As if he expected me to be exactly where I am.

Trapped in his enigmatic gaze, my memory flickers—marble floors, masked laughter, the press of his hand at my waist, the weight of his mouth. The feel of his⁠—

I lock it down.

The picture of cool, calm control.

Even if I have to squeeze my thighs together to ignore the heat radiating there.