Chapter 3 The final reports

The following day at the Von Strudel mansion was not a normal morning. The family had received an unexpected visit: it was Elian Blackwood, the powerful lycanthrope warrior, leader of his pack. In his human version, he is a muscular man, with an imposing presence and an intense gaze.

He has a well-trimmed beard and black hair that he usually wears short and messy. His facial features are strong and angular, with thick eyebrows and a straight, prominent nose. He has dark, deep eyes that seem to scrutinize people's souls.

"What is Elian doing here, father?" Valentin filled with rage when he saw the lycanthrope sitting in one of their large armchairs.

"Quiet, Valentin. I come in peace. Even though your family has always been at war with mine, today I come to tell you that something very bad is approaching."

"How can I believe you, Elian? You are a complete traitor. Thanks to you, I lost my fiancée."

"Well, those are things of the past. I can only tell you that an enemy pack is coming straight to Charleston, regardless of who is protecting it. It is a large pack; they don't care if there are humans or not, they are simply coming to claim their territory and they are quite rough."

"Where did you get that from?" Valentin looked at him with suspicion.

"Well, you know: women know everything. If not, ask Lea, who has already seen it in her visions."

"Is that true, Lea?" Valentin asked her angrily.

"Valentin, it's just that I haven't been sure of what I've seen. Forgive me, brother, but Elian is very likely right."

"Incredible that you hide these things from me, Lea! If you know anything, keep me informed. I have to go, and you, Elian, I will be watching you."

Elian simply shook his head and, in a sigh, had already left the mansion. Valentin was completely angry, as well as worried. He didn't have enough information to stop that threat; however, he would set himself the task of finding out. He had to stop them at any cost, for the humans were his priority.

Upon arriving at the factory, his mood was dark. Everyone knew the boss's kindnesses, but also when he was angry; no one wanted to make a mistake that day.

Going up to the top floor of his building, he prepared to review the final reports of the factory, those Sophie had made the day before, but he had no idea it was she who had prepared them. Upon reading them, he noticed there were several spelling errors and was filled with indignation, as one of his qualities was perfection.

"Itzel, who the hell made this report? Tell them to come up to my office immediately," Valentin's voice was raw and precise.

"To your office, sir?" his secretary replied with a nervous tone of voice. When he summoned someone to his office, they usually ended up fired. He hung up the call without allowing her to tell him who the unfortunate soul was that morning; however, Itzel called her.

"Robinson, hi, this is Itzel, Mr. Valentin's secretary."

"Hello, how can I help you?" Sophie replied in surprise.

"The master wants you in his office. I advise you not to be late; he is far too angry. It's about the report you did yesterday."

"I understand, I'm on my way."

Sophie hung up the call, straightened her clothes and, with a cold that froze her very soul, took the elevator to her boss's office. That morning, coincidentally, she felt no fear of him, as he had not visited her in her dreams the night before; that had allowed her to have a pleasant night. It seemed the strangeness of the situation was ending.

Arriving at his office, she gave two knocks on the door. It was a somber place, quite elegant but very dark; there was not a single window and the color purple was dominant.

"Beautiful place, mysterious and far too... tempting," Sophie thought.

The door to Valentin's office suddenly opened and he was sitting with his chair facing away from the door. She entered slowly; his office was even more somber. In that instant, her skin crawled.

"Miss, have you not been told that the reports you must deliver to the factory must be perfect?"

"Sir, I am very sorry. I promise I will correct it and send it to you again."

When Valentin heard her voice, he realized immediately who it was. He hadn't been able to know before because, since she had no fear that morning, her scent was different.

Valentin turned toward her. She was dressed in quite simple clothing; her social class was obvious from miles away. He looked her up and down and murmured:

"But what do we have here? For you, arriving late is not enough, but you are also doing your work halfway."

Valentin was in such a bad mood that he did not measure his words with Sophie.

"I already told you, sir, that I offer an apology and that I will try to amend my error, if you allow me."

"That is giving you special treatment. You will be suspended for one week without pay and, upon returning, if you have two more memorandums, you will be fired. Have you understood? Now get out of my office," Valentin shouted at her curtly, causing her to break down instantly.

"But sir, please!" Sophie pleaded with him. A week of work without pay would be a very large deficit for her, as the expenses for her mother and her own were paid exactly with her salary.

"What was not clear, Miss Robinson?" Valentin rose from his seat and looked over his shoulder at Sophie.

"Well, if you do that to me, I won't eat for the rest of the month. Sir, I beg of you, allow me to amend my error."

Sophie began to cry inconsolably. Valentin could not believe what he was seeing; never had any of his employees asked for clemency. But she was daring to appeal to his kindness, and he had it, although that would be breaking the rules.

"Sophie, do not cry, please," the smell of her tears and her sadness were driving him crazy, and his vampire instinct was beginning to burn. He was dying to throw himself upon her and suck her neck, bite her, but not before making her his woman.

"I beg you again to let me make up for my mistake," Sophie's laments were deeper. Valentin slowly approached her; longingly he wanted to take her in his arms, but he restrained himself. It was neither the appropriate person nor the appropriate place.

"Leave, please," he told her while he moved away again quickly toward his chair.

"What does that mean, sir?"

"Just leave. I will tell you your punishment later."

Sophie left drying her tears. Her boss was a very strange man, but he had been kind to her, at least she believed so. She never imagined that he simply made her leave so as not to bite her neck.