Dominic’s POV
The last thing I expected to hear while walking to my car was someone yelling about security guards and family connections.
David had just finished convincing me to stop by the werewolf bar hidden deep in the city—a place old bloods like us still met in secret. A place that smelled like dust, sweat, and the ghost of our former pack.
He said I needed to relax. That I needed to get my instincts back under control before I exploded on someone. And truly it was something I really need.
Well, it was too late for that now.
"My husband is the vice president’s cousin," a shrill voice shouted from across the lot. "I have every right to be here—and no security guard paid with money from our family’s pocket is going to chase me away!"
I stopped walking.
David did too. "Oh damn,"
