Eleanor’s POV
The walk back to my office felt longer than the entire hallway. The air was thick with silent scrutiny.
I could feel eyes on , dozens of them, boring into my back.
But every ti I glanced up, every single coworker was ticulously focused on their screen, their posture a perfect picture of dedicated concentration.
I finally reached the sanctuary of my glass-walled office and closed the door, leaning against it for a mont as I let out a shaky breath I realized I’d been holding.
My mind was reeling. How had my life just flipped upside down in the span of ten minutes?
I was going to be the personal assistant to the K-Trio. The CEOs. The most powerful, elusive, and terrifying n in the country.
And I had no choice. None at all.
if I refused, I wouldn’t just lose this job; I’d be blacklisted from the entire industry. The Vexxon Corporation wasn’t just a company; it was the engine of the nation’s economy.
Their influence was absolute. If they decided I was persona non grata, my only option would be to leave the country entirely and hope to start from scratch sowhere they held no sway.
Getting this job in the first place had been a miracle, a fluke of timing and desperation.
I’d always felt like an imposter here, surrounded by people who seed smarter, more connected, more... everything.
I’d spent years believing my qualifications were just barely enough to keep my head above water, that there were a hundred other people more deserving of this desk.
And now I was being vaulted into the inner sanctum. It made no sense. The pressure was imnse, a crushing weight settling on my chest. I wasn’t excited. I was terrified. I was trapped.
I took another steadying breath and began to thodically arrange my desk, placing my few personal items—a small plant, a photo fra—into a cardboard box. It was a futile attempt to project normalcy, to pretend my world hadn’t just been upended. Through the glass, I could see the not-so-subtle glances and hushed murmurs of my coworkers. I kept my head down, refusing to et anyone’s eye.
The door swung open and Mira rushed in, her face a mask of worry. "Eleanor! What’s happening? Why are you packing your things?" Her voice was tight with anxiety. "Did they... did they fire you? After everything that happened? Oh, gods, I knew I should have said more to the CEOs! I should have fought for you! You can’t just let them treat you like this, Elle! You have to stand up for yourself!"
She was talking a mile a minute, her words tumbling out in a distressed rush, as if she were already mourning my departure.
I reached out and placed my hands on her shoulders, stopping her mid-sentence. "Mira, breathe. I’m not being fired."
She blinked, confusion replacing the panic. "You’re not? Then why are you packing?"
I leaned closer, lowering my voice to a whisper only she could hear. "I’ve been transferred. They... they appointed as the CEOs’ personal assistant."
Mira’s eyes went impossibly wide. Her mouth dropped open. "WHAT?!" she shrieked, the sound echoing off the glass walls.
I flinched and quickly clamped a hand over her mouth, my eyes darting to the open office outside where every head had now swiveled to stare at us. "Shhh! Lower your voice!"
I removed my hand, and she stared at , her expression shifting from shock to utter disbelief. "Lower my voice? Eleanor, how am I supposed to lower my voice? This is incredible news! This is the best news!"
She grabbed my arms, her excitent palpable. "Not , obviously," she added with a dismissive wave. "I’m done with n. But everyone else? They are going to be so jealous!"
Her joy was so genuine, so infectious, and so completely missed the point of my sheer terror. "It’s not good news, Mira," I insisted, my voice barely a whisper.
She pulled back, looking at as if I’d sprouted a second head. "Have you bumped your head sowhere? Are you feeling alright? How is this not good news? Do you have any idea how many won in this building would literally kill to be in your position? To be that close to the K-Trio?"
"I know what it is," I said, my stomach churning. "And I don’t want anyone to know yet. Please. Just... keep it quiet for now."
I looked out at the sea of curious faces quickly pretending to work again.
Mira sighed, but a happy grin was still plastered on her face. "Fine, I’ll keep your big secret. But I’m seriously happy for you." She started helping place the last few items into the box. "So when does the new job start?"
"Imdiately," I said, the word feeling heavy. "I was told to start learning their... behaviors and schedules before the Serpent’s Kiss opening."
"Alright then," Mira said, clapping her hands together like a teacher preparing for a lesson. "Let’s start with what you need to know. And I can bet you don’t know a single thing. First, Mr. Keith. You’ve t him. The broody, ice-cold realist. He hates two things above all else: people who slack off and people who break under pressure. Do not show weakness in front of him. Ever."
I nodded, filing that away. It matched the man I’d just faced.
"Next," she continued, lowering her voice conspiratorially, "Mr. Kieran. The charr. Most of the won in this city are in love with him." She pulled out her phone, scrolling through social dia to show pictures of crowds of won screaming his na at events, holding up signs with marriage proposals. "See? Celebrities have literally had catfights over him at galas. He’s all smiles, but don’t be fooled. It’s a business smile."
But the smile he gave w felt different.
Then her expression sobered. "And the last one... Mr. Kayden." She paused. "No one has ever heard him speak. Not a word."
I rembered his intense, silent scrutiny in the office. "So he’s... mute?"
"That’s the rumor," Mira confird with a nod. "He uses sign language, I think, when it’s absolutely necessary. But mostly, he just... communicates without words. He’s the quietest, but sohow, he feels like the most dangerous."
She then leaned in even closer. "And here’s the biggest piece of gossip. Rumor has it the K-Trio has a girlfriend."
I blinked. "You an... they each have a girlfriend?"
"No," Mira said, her eyes wide with the scandal of it. "They’re all sharing one."
The concept was so foreign it took a second to process. "That sounds... not natural."
"I know, right?" Mira agreed. "The woman’s na is Scarlet. She’s the heiress to the Valois group. She is also filthy rich."
"So they just... fit each other perfectly," I murmured, thinking of the imnse power and wealth that union represented.
"I guess," Mira shrugged. "How she’s comfortable with three n, I have no idea. But it’s becoming a thing nowadays, you know. It’s not just supernatural creatures that do it."
The casual ntion caught off guard. "They do it?"
"Yeah, especially werewolves," Mira said. "I’ve read that a woman can be ’mates’ to two or more n in a pack. It’s like, biological for them. And now so humans, especially the ultra-rich, have taken up the habit. They see it as a status symbol. A woman being ’shared’ by powerful n."
A cold feeling crept down my spine. "That doesn’t sound right."
"For the werewolves, I guess it does," Mira said, though she didn’t sound convinced. "But for humans?" She shook her head, her lip curling in distaste. "People might call it being a ’treasure,’ but let’s be real. It just sounds like a fancy word for being a whore."
Mira’s words echoed in the suddenly too-small space of my office. A woman shared by multiple n. A biological logic for werewolves. A status symbol for the rich.
You didn’t tell this, I scread at Beatrice in the privacy of my mind, my panic a silent whirlwind.
Didn’t you do the research? she shot back, her tone annoyingly mild. It was in like, every third article about pack dynamics.
I did! But the part about... about being shared... I thought that was just a myth! Tabloid stuff!
Well, now you know it’s not, she replied, a ntal shrug in her voice. And chill out. It’s incredibly rare. Most of us are lucky to find one true mate in a lifeti. Finding more than one is like winning the supernatural lottery.
A new, terrifying question ford. Beatrice... am I... am I going to have a werewolf mate? The idea was absurd and horrifying. I couldn’t picture it.
Oh, I don’t know, Eleanor, she said, her sarcasm dialed up to maximum. Do idiots like Dickson exist?
I felt the blood drain from my face. I couldn’t accept this.
The idea of my life, my heart, being decided by so fictional moon goddess... of being bound to soone I didn’t choose... it was a violation of everything I believed in.
By the ti you et them, you won’t be thinking that way, Beatrice said, her voice softening just a fraction. The bond... It changes everything. You’ll see.
I don’t think that’s true, I argued, but the protest felt weak even to .
A treacherous thought crept in, unwelco and persistent. What if I did? What if I had more than one?
The concept was still overwhelming, but a tiny, bizarre part of felt a flicker of... sothing.
Not comfort, but maybe a little less alone in the strangeness of it all.
Knowing it was a known, if rare, phenonon made it feel slightly less like I was hurtling toward complete personal annihilation. Well, I don’t feel unique enough for that to happen.
That’s not how it works, you dufus, Beatrice sighed, reading my train of thought with infuriating ease.
"Eleanor?" Mira’s voice cut through my internal chaos. She was staring at , her brow furrowed with concern. "Why are you looking like that? You’ve gone pale. Is everything alright?"
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