The Alpha's spy and her lovers

Astrid Lila's POV: I checked my wristwatch once again, but it was still 9 o'clock. Frustrated, I stomped my foot and sighed. “Come on! You guys should open already; I need my latte before the meeting!” I muttered anxiously, scanning the quiet stall for any sign of the owner. The few people who passed by the stall looked at me with furrowed brows; clearly, my outfit had caught their attention. I wasn't surprised, given my signature style—a black blazer, baggy jeans, and sneakers. My long hair was styled in neat box braids that cascaded down my back, and I carried a cross bag. Some might call me a tomboy, but this look was undeniably me. Luckily, my style complements my occupation perfectly. “Astrid? What are you doing here so early?” A familiar voice snapped me out of my thoughts, and my head turned instantly. My eyes brightened, and I smiled. “Bobby! Where have you been? Why are you late?” I asked, looking up at the young man. My frustration had vanished, and I had a jovial expression. Bobby shook his head, clearly used to my questions. “Here,” he said, stretching out his hand with a coffee cup. “Your usual. extra shot of espresso. Hope It gives you the luck and boost you need for your meeting,” he said with a wink. I burst into laughter. “Oh, Bobby! I know I can always count on you,” I replied and quickly collected the cup of coffee. I inhaled the aroma and took a sip, allowing the hot sensation to pass through my throat. “Thank you so much, but as for luck,” I smirked, “I don't believe in it,” I said, and pecked his cheeks. Bobby sighed, shaking his head. “You're really something. Just don't be late,” he said, moving towards the stall's entrance to open the door. I glanced at my watch again and froze. “Oh no! I am running late! I have to go; don't forget that I love you,” I said, my voice rushed, and without waiting for a reply, I ran to my car, making sure that my latte didn't spill. Sliding into the driver's seat, I looked through my rearview mirror. Bobby was still there, smiling at me. But then, just like that, he vanished, and a movement caught my eye. Someone was watching from the corner, their face obscured by a black cloak. As soon as they noticed I was staring, they ran away. I shrugged my shoulders; my personality didn't allow me to chase every shadow. Instead, I revved my car's engine and took another sip of the latte in my hand before driving out of the parking lot. After driving for about half an hour, I pulled up into a sleek garage and parked my car. As soon as I stepped out, all eyes were on me. Maybe it was my perfume, or my signature look, or maybe it was something else entirely. Either way, I was used to it. So I enjoyed the moment and walked towards an unnamed but sophisticated building. There were two guards in front, and after showing them my ID, I was granted access. “Welcome, Agent Lila,” one of the guards said with a slight bow. I returned a polite smile and went in. Unlike the outside, which was quiet and deserted. The building had over fifty members in it, and a lot of activities were ongoing. About fourteen women sat at rows of computers, earplugs in, fingers flying over keyboards while speaking into their earplugs. A handful of men were also doing the same thing, but my gaze lingered on the women. “Miss Lila, you're here,” I heard a soft voice, and I turned to face the man who spoke. “Please follow me; the meeting will soon begin,” the man informed me, and I nodded, following behind him. As we climbed up the stairs, I could hear whispers, much louder because of my abilities. “Isn't she wanted for assault?” A man whispered to his colleague. “No, I heard it was murder. She killed her district commander,” his colleague replied, with a venomous tone. I shook my head in disbelief, but I didn't comment, and I made sure that their words didn't get to me. We arrived at the meeting hall, and the man who brought me bowed. “I will leave you to it, Miss Lila,” he said, and backed away. I stood in front of the door for what felt like hours. I wasn't scared, just nervous about what my punishment would be. I'd tried to forget about this hearing for weeks, but now that it was here, I realized that I wasn't fully prepared. “Is she coming in or what?” a husky voice barked from inside. I took a deep breath and opened the door, masking my anxiety with a look of confidence. Seven people sat in a circle. Three women and four men. Their eyes were locked on me, and it was nothing friendly. “Good morning, Miss Lila. It's good you finally decided to join your hearing,” a man's voice echoed, and my face twisted. “f**k. Why is he here?” I muttered under my breath. “Harry, it would be if you allowed me to do my job and officiate the meeting,” a woman said. Her expression was not stern like the rest of them, but I knew better than to think she was helping me. I sat down on the designated seat, and seven eyes were fixated on me. “I am ready,” I said, and they all arched their brows. Jessica, the leader, looked hesitant as she cleared her throat. "Astrid, we know you're expecting punishment, but…” "You're not going to punish me?" I asked, with a feeling of unease. "Not if you agree to help us.” leader Jessica said, “We have a situation that requires your particular set of skills." She informed me, but I saw a look in her eyes; she didn't trust me. "What kind of situation?" I asked softly. "Let's just say it's... delicate. We need someone with your expertise to verify some information.” Jessica replied with a tone. “We will drop all charges against you if you agree to help.” I looked at her with raised brows. Of course, I didn't believe any of them. They wouldn't just let me off because I solved a case, right? ‘Something was definitely off,’ I reasoned and decided to use my last card. “What if I fail?” The officials looked at one another, and they exchanged a subtle look of threat. “Make sure you don't fail,” one said flatly. A file was handed over to me, and the heading was “Azazel casebook.” I took a quick look through the files. Azazel wasn't a regular guy. He was a notorious Mafia boss, and allegedly, he had thousands of demons and mercenaries under his command. “We need you to go undercover and verify these reports,” leader Jessica said to me. I frowned, flipping through the file again. “And why would I do that?” Harry, who had been boiling all along, quickly stood up. “It's either that or death,” he growled at me. Leader Jessica raised her hand to quiet him. I smiled menacingly. “You've got to be kidding me. If the Mafia finds out who I am, they will skin me alive after weeks of torture. So, yes, I choose punishment over death at the hands of psychopaths.” The circle exchanged looks once again. Then, Jessica leaned forward, her voice low but steady. “Astrid, you might not believe this, but Azazel is a werewolf, just like yourself. Still want to turn us down now?' I froze. “A werewolf?”