Jeremiah’s POV
“Is there a problem, Jeremiah?”
I looked up from the long table in my mother’s sitting room. Glossy headshots of women were spread across the dark wood like playing cards. Each photo came with a list of assets, family titles, and business connections. To my mother, this was a strategic map for my future. To me, it was a collection of strangers with practiced smiles.
My phone vibrated against the mahogany surface, cutting through the silence. I didn't recognize the number, but the timing felt like a lifeline. I picked it up immediately.
“Jeremiah speaking,” I said, my voice steady despite the irritation prickling at my neck.
“Alpha Jeremiah? It’s Clementine. Something happened to Salome.”
The frantic edge in her voice made me stand up. I walked toward the window, puttin
