The Soleil Pack contract was with a financial firm on Park Avenue — three floors of Underlayer-adjacent clients requiring supernatural security consultation. Legitimate work. The kind of work that made sense for a Paris Alpha with Corbin's particular skill set and his pack's reputation for cross-continental discretion.
Neva read the brief he forwarded. Read it again. It held up.
She called him back.
"The Park Avenue contract is real," she said.
"It is," Corbin said.
"You could have sent someone else."
A pause. The kind that had a smile in it. "I could have."
Neither of them said anything else about it. There was nothing that needed saying — the decision had been made, the contract was signed, Corbin Maes would be in Manhattan for the next three months at minimum. That was the inform
