Alpha Scott's POV
I straighten my tie as I sit at the head of the Richardson Industries boardroom table. My reflection in the polished mahogany shows a man in control. Perfect. Inside, my wolf paces with anticipation.
The board members file in one by one, their faces all showing the same pathetic mix of shock and sorrow. Exactly what I need.
"Harold," I say, standing to shake hands with the oldest board member. "Thank you for coming on such short notice."
"Scott," he nods gravely. "Terrible business with Brenda. Just terrible."
"Yes," I say, my voice carefully modulated to sound grief-stricken. "A senseless tragedy."
Similar exchanges follow with each member. Handshakes. Condolences. Somber nods. These sheep have no idea they're being led to slaughter.
David slips in through the sid
