I Never KNEW MY HUSBAND IS A WEREWOLF ALPHA

Chapter 14: The Boardroom Siege

The transition from the ancient, loam-scented air of the Silent Grove to the pressurized, filtered oxygen of the Pierce Tower felt like a plunge into a bucket of ice water. Sloane leaned her forehead against the cool glass of the private elevator, her breath hitching in her chest. She was still wearing her tactical gear, now stained with the iridescent, oily smear of the First Alpha’s marrow. Beside her, Roman was a statue of vibrating tension. He had pulled a clean black shirt over his scarred torso, but his hair was damp with sweat and the gold in his eyes hadn't quite retreated into the professional brown of a CEO.

"We have three minutes before the elevator doors open on the 60th floor," Sloane said, her voice raspy but mathematically precise. She didn't look at him; she was staring at the small tablet in her hand, watching a series of red-flag notifications scroll across the screen. "At 8:01 AM, a 'Emergency Governance Notice' was filed with the SEC. The Daedalus Group didn't just buy your debt, Roman. They executed a Series-C Hostile Takeover while we were in the woods."

Roman’s hand gripped the brass railing of the elevator so hard the metal groaned. "They can’t execute a takeover without a board vote. I own 51 percent of the voting shares, Sloane. That’s the foundation of the North Ridge’s sovereignty."

"They aren't attacking the 51 percent," Sloane said, turning the tablet toward him. Her grey eyes were hard, reflecting the scrolling data. "They filed a 'Capacity Petition'. They’ve submitted testimony—likely fabricated or coerced from Julian Vane’s captured files—claiming that your 'erratic behavior' at the Reservoir and the Tower indicates a mental break. They’ve frozen your voting rights pending a 'Sanity Audit'."

The elevator hissed as it bypassed the 50th floor.

"A sanity audit?" Roman’s laugh was a dark, tectonic rumble. "They want to put the Alpha in a cage made of legal briefcases."

"They want to put us in a cage," Sloane corrected. "If they freeze your rights, the board's interim chair becomes Arthur Sterling. He’s been on the Daedalus payroll for five years, Roman. I just found the offshore routing numbers. He’s waiting in your office right now with a 'Legal Strike Team' from Geneva."

"Then let them wait," Roman growled, his shoulders broadening as the elevator slowed. "I’ve fought liquid-metal monsters tonight. A group of lawyers in Italian suits doesn't scare me."

"It should," Sloane said, reaching out to touch his arm, her cool skin a grounding wire for his rising heat. "In the Grove, we fought with claws. In the boardroom, we fight with Discovery. If you shift, if you growl, if you even raise your voice, you play into their narrative of the 'Unstable CEO.' To win this, Roman, you have to be the coldest man in the room. You have to be the Auditor’s husband."

Roman looked at her, the gold in his eyes swirling before settling into a deep, calculating amber. He took a long, slow breath, his chest expanding. "Cold. I can do cold."

The doors slid open.

The Office: 8:15 AM

The executive floor was silent, but it wasn't the silence of peace. It was the silence of a vacuum. Four men in charcoal-grey suits stood outside Roman’s mahogany doors. They didn't look like security; they looked like bankers who knew exactly how much your soul was worth.

As Roman and Sloane approached, the lead man—a tall, skeletal figure with silver hair and a silk tie that cost more than a mid-sized sedan—stepped forward.

"Mr. Pierce," the man said, his voice as dry as parchment. "I am Marcus Thorne, lead counsel for the Daedalus Group. I believe you’ve received our notice regarding the Governance Partition."

Roman didn't stop. He walked right past Thorne, forcing the man to step aside or be trampled. Sloane followed, her boots clicking with a lethal rhythm on the marble.

"I received a spam folder notification," Roman said, not looking back as he kicked open his own double doors. "I usually ignore the desperate reaches of failing conglomerates."

Inside the office, Arthur Sterling was sitting in Roman’s chair. He was a soft man, with a face like unbaked dough and eyes that darted toward the door with a mix of triumph and terror. Surrounding him were three more lawyers, their laptops open, their screens filled with the Pierce Holdings' master ledgers.

"Arthur," Roman said, his voice dangerously low. "Get out of my chair before I decide it’s part of your severance package."

"Now, Roman, let’s be civil," Arthur squeaked, though he didn't move. He gestured toward the lawyers. "The Daedalus Group has significant concerns about the 'Security Event' at the Reservoir. There are reports of... unauthorized biological experiments. The shareholders are panicked. We’ve been forced to step in to protect the asset."

Sloane walked to the side of the desk, her laptop already open and humming. She didn't look at Arthur. She looked at the lead Daedalus lawyer, Thorne, who had followed them in.

"The 'Security Event' was an act of international corporate espionage by Julian Vane," Sloane said, her voice cutting through the room like a scalpel. "And since you’ve brought up 'authorized' experiments, let’s talk about the Apex Hydroelectric lease. I’ve just spent the last four hours auditing the Daedalus Group’s tax-haven subsidiaries in the Cayman Islands."

Thorne’s expression didn't change, but his eyes narrowed. "Mrs. Pierce. Your reputation as an auditor is well-known. But personal loyalty often clouds financial judgment."

"My judgment is based on the Double-Entry Ledger," Sloane countered. She hit a key, and the massive 80-inch monitor on Roman’s wall flared to life. "I’ve mapped the flow of funds from the Daedalus 'Conservation Grant' directly into Julian Vane’s private extraction labs. If the SEC finds out that a Swiss wealth fund was funding human trafficking on American soil, the 'Capacity Petition' against my husband will be the least of your problems."

"Allegations are not evidence," Thorne said smoothly. "We have a court order, Mrs. Pierce. As of this moment, Roman Pierce is relieved of his duties. If he refuses to vacate, we have federal marshals waiting in the lobby to escort him to a psychiatric evaluation."

Roman stepped forward, leaning his massive hands on the mahogany desk. The wood groaned under the pressure, but he didn't snarl. He leaned in until he was inches from Arthur Sterling’s face.

"Arthur," Roman whispered. "Do you know what happens to a man who sells his pack’s territory for a Swiss bank account?"

"I... I’m doing what’s best for the company!" Arthur stammered.

"No," Roman said, his voice vibrating with a hidden, ancient power. "You’re doing what’s best for your funeral. Because the moment you signed that petition, you ceased to be a member of this board. You became a Liability."

The Counter-Audit: 9:00 AM

"Mr. Thorne," Sloane said, ignoring the tension in the room. "You mentioned federal marshals. That’s interesting, because I’ve been in contact with the Office of Foreign Assets Control (OFAC) regarding the 'Labyrinth' accounts. It seems the Daedalus Group hasn't just been mining marrow; they’ve been laundering the proceeds of illegal genetic patents through Pierce Holdings’ infrastructure."

She swiped her tablet, and a new set of documents appeared on the screen. "You didn't just buy the debt. You tried to hide a $4 billion deficit inside Roman’s 'Forest Restoration' fund. You were using our green-energy credits to mask the carbon footprint of your synthetic-shifter labs in Geneva."

Thorne’s composure finally slipped. A vein throbbed in his temple. "That is a gross mischaracterization of our ESG initiatives."

"It’s a Felony," Sloane corrected. "And as the Chief Forensic Officer of this firm, I’ve just filed a 'Whistleblower Disclosure'. Under the Sarbanes-Oxley Act, any attempt to remove the CEO during an active fraud investigation is considered a 'Retaliatory Act'. Your court order is currently stayed by the Department of Justice."

The room went deathly silent. Arthur Sterling looked at Thorne, his face turning a sickly shade of grey.

"You... you called the DOJ?" Arthur whispered.

"I called the audit," Sloane said, standing tall beside Roman. "And the audit says you’re bankrupt."

Thorne snapped his laptop shut. "This isn't over, Mrs. Pierce. You may have stalled the governance shift, but the Daedalus Group doesn't lose. We own the regulators. We own the narratives. By noon, the news will be filled with stories of Roman Pierce’s 'violent outbursts' at the Reservoir. The DOJ will be the least of your concerns when the public demands your head."

"Then let them come," Roman said, standing up to his full height. He looked at the lawyers with a gaze that was no longer just a CEO, but the Alpha of the North Ridge. "But remember this: the North Ridge isn't a company. It’s a Sovereign Nation. And you just declared war on its Queen."

Thorne didn't respond. He signaled to his team, and they filed out of the office with the stiff, mechanical grace of defeated soldiers. Arthur Sterling tried to follow, but Roman’s hand shot out, grabbing him by the scruff of his expensive wool coat.

"Arthur," Roman said, his voice like grinding stones. "You have ten minutes to clear your desk. If I see your face in this building after 9:15, I won't call the DOJ. I’ll call the Wolf."

Arthur didn't wait. He scrambled out of the room, leaving his briefcase behind.

The Quiet: 9:30 AM

Sloane collapsed into the leather guest chair, her adrenaline finally ebbing, leaving her bone-weary. She looked at her hands; they were shaking.

Roman walked around the desk and knelt in front of her. He took her hands in his, his heat flooding into her chilled skin. He didn't say anything for a long time. He just held her, his forehead resting against her knees.

"You saved the firm, Sloane," he whispered. "Again."

"I just bought us a week, Roman," she said, her voice small. "Thorne was right. They own the narrative. By this evening, the 'Biological Beacon' story from the Reservoir will be twisted. They’ll say you were the one conducting the experiments. They’ll say I was your accomplice."

Roman looked up at her, the gold in his eyes soft and protective. "Then we change the narrative. We don't fight them in the press. We fight them at the Source."

He stood up and walked to the window, looking out over the city. "Thorne thinks he’s the one with the map. But he doesn't know what we found in the Grove. He doesn't know we have the 'Log' of the First Alpha."

"Roman," Sloane said, her auditor’s brain already moving to the next chapter. "The Daedalus Group isn't just a wealth fund. They are a Cult of the Immortal. They believe that by harvesting the First Alphas, they can transcend humanity. They don't want to rule the world; they want to outlive it."

"Then we’re going to show them that immortality has a very high tax rate," Roman said, his jaw tightening. "Sloane, can you trace the other four sites from the Log?"

Sloane opened her laptop. The data from the Silent Grove was still decrypting, but the first set of coordinates was clear. "The next node is in the Siberian Altai Mountains. It’s a remote mining facility owned by a Daedalus front company. It’s the site of the 'Second Alpha'—the one they call the Ice-Breaker."

Roman turned to her, a dark, sovereign light in his eyes. "Tell the pilot to ready the Gulfstream. We aren't staying for the press conference."

"We’re going to Siberia?" Sloane asked, a tired smile touching her lips. "I didn't pack for the tundra."

"I’ll buy you a parka in Moscow," Roman said, pulling her up and into his arms. "But first, we’re going to the penthouse. You’re going to sleep for six hours, and I’m going to guard the door. The audit can wait until we’re over the Atlantic."

As they walked out of the office, leaving the wreckage of the corporate takeover behind, Sloane felt the weight of the 40-chapter journey pressing down on her. They were no longer just defending their home. They were hunters now.

The ledger was still in a deficit, but for the first time, the Auditor knew exactly how to balance the books: she was going to bankrupt the gods.