Lucius's POV
I stood in the airport terminal, my shoulders tense with exhaustion.
The last few days had been a nightmare of crisis management. One of our development projects in Wilde Pack's eastern territory had resulted in a worker's death – the kind of PR disaster that required my immediate attention.
I collapsed into the backseat of my waiting Maybach, pinching the bridge of my nose as the car pulled away from the curb. The amber streetlights flickered across my face, casting alternating shadows that matched my darkening mood.
"Alpha, are we heading to the pack house or your office?" my assistant asked quietly, his tone deferential.
"The office first," I replied, loosening my tie.
The responsibilities of leading the Wilde Pack weighed heavily on me tonight. The day
