She breaks into the executive suite on the forty second floor expecting dirty tax records. Instead she finds Kaelen Vance on his knees in the dark, his suit tearing at the seams, bones grinding into new shapes, his eyes gone a gold that doesn’t belong on a human face.The missing money wasn’t a slush fund. It paid for wolfsbane suppressants and silver fencing, the cost of keeping a rogue pack out of the city. If Calla hands her flash drive to federal prosecutors, she doesn’t just bury Vance Global. She exposes a pack that’s been hiding in plain sight, and hands a violent faction an excuse to start a war.Then Kaelen catches her scent, and his wolf decides she’s his.He can’t let her walk. He won’t silence her either. So he pins her down with a ninety day NDA instead, moves her into Blackwood Estate under guard, and puts her to work finding the insider who’s been feeding shipping routes to the rogues. It’s supposed to be an arrangement. It doesn’t stay one, not with an Alpha who thinks “mate” and “property” mean the same thing, and not with her father’s case sitting unfinished at the bottom of it all.