Chapter 5 Straight Into the Wolf's Den

"Open up!" Jalene's voice cut through the stillness, shattering the hum of crickets outside my window. Sleep disappeared from my eyes instantly.

I sat up, groaning. My foot snagged on a pile of clothes scattered across the van. I shoved them aside with a sharp kick and stumbled to the door.

"What?" I snapped, yanking it open.

Jalene brushed past me, a bag slung over her shoulder. "Move. I'm crashing."

"You have an apartment. This is a van, I barely have enough space"

She flopped onto my couch, already rummaging through her bag. "And you have peace and quiet. My place? Just nosy neighbors peering into my soul."

I crossed my arms. "Don't get makeup on my couch."

Jalene froze mid-lunge, rolled her eyes, and grabbed a wipe. "Work was a nightmare today," she muttered, scrubbing her face. "That idiot gambled again. Almost lost everyone's earnings. The whole club's on edge."

I sighed.

Yesterday at the strip club, there had been a commotion on the floor. Turns out, the owner was drowning in gambling debt. Now, everyone was after him and his business, which means all of us, have to be looking out for ourselves alot.

Jalene tossed the wipe into the corner. "Oh, and Felix is spreading lies about you, he said you're getting married. That true? gig"

My eyes narrowed. "That idiot never shuts up."

Her face lit up. "Wait-so it is true? Holy hell. Are you really pregnant with some rich heir's baby? How did you-"

I cut her off with a wave. "Felix exaggerates. All you need to know is that I'm getting married. The husband? No idea yet."

Jalene blinked. "You don't... know?"

I flopped onto the bed. "It'll happen before the year ends."

She stared. "What is this? what does this mean?"

"You're awfully interested," I muttered.

"Of course I am! You're not making sense! are you tired of living in a van, or you tired of living alone?"

"Yes, I hate living alone," I shot back, voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'm desperate for someone to grope me after all the failed attempts at work every night. Happy?"

She wrinkled her nose. "You're weird."

I swung my legs off the bed. "I should get to work."

Grant's words from earlier clawed at my thoughts. what if Grant remained unyielding till the end? This was my last shot. My only way into Pembroke. It had to work, I have to marry him.

Ignoring Jalene's questions as she takes her leave, I grabbed my nicest dress. As I changed, my stomach twisted, even though, i was this determined, i couldn't shake off the nervousness tugging inside me.

I climbed into the driver's seat and started the van.

Straight to Grant's company.

***

"Do you have an appointment, ma'am?" The young man at the clock-in barely looked up, boredom in his voice.

"Does the CEO's fiancée need one?" I lifted my chin. "I've already called him. He'll be here soon."

Smooth delivery, but my heart pounded. Grant wouldn't ignore me. Not after my little declaration to his parents.

The man hesitated. "I'm sorry, ma'am. Without clearance, I could lose my job. Maybe the receptionist can help."

At least he wasn't throwing me out. I nodded and turned to the desk.

The receptionist smiled-until I explained. Her face flickered with confusion. "Miss Isabella was here a week ago. She said the same thing before Mr. Mark met her."

Isabella. The woman Grant was supposed to marry.

I didn't flinch. Instead, I wrinkled my nose in disdain. "You said who?" My voice sharpened. "Call Grant. Or Mark. Now."

The receptionist paled, fingers trembling as she dialed. "Right away, ma'am."

I smirked to myself.

No one doubted my claim, just mild confusion. Maybe the dress helped-polished hair, designer outfit, effortless entitlement.

Just Grant's type of women. Or maybe he was simply a serial heartbreaker and even his employee knows.

I caught my reflection in the glass, lips curling. I had spent hours researching his type to dress up this way. it was pretty easy though because every woman he'd been with looked the same.

The receptionist cleared her throat. "Mr. Mark and the CEO are on their way. Please wait in the lounge."

I smiled tightly and strode to the seating area.

White couches, floor-to-ceiling windows, sleek furniture-everything screamed power and control.

I sank into a couch, scrolling through my phone.

The headlines all said the same thing: Grant was his father's favorite.

Good. That meant easier access once I was in.

Hunter Pembroke? Grant's brother was labeled a spoiled brat. There was no way he had anything to do with my sister. She had better taste than that.

My target was Grant. And his mother? She built her power on manipulation.

And I would do the same.

A tap on my shoulder yanked me back.

Grant.

Same composed expression. Same infuriating confidence. "Are you okay?"

"Quit asking that." I steadied myself. "Why haven't I heard back about the proposal?"

His brow lifted. "Do you even know who I am?"

"Where's your office?" I brushed past the question. "I've been waiting."

I linked my arm with his, throwing the receptionist a smirk. She looked shaken.

Just how many women had she seen in Grant's arms? That lady is traumatized.

The elevator doors slid open. We stepped inside.

Someone else slipped in last second.

Must be Mark, Grant's best friend and personal assistant.

His expression? Pure irritation.

"I called Felix," he said flatly. "Told him to warn you to stop stalking my boss."'

I unlinked my arm from Grant, locking eyes with him. "Stalking? Your boss needed help. I provided it. I took an opportunity."

Mark laughed dryly. "Who do you think you are? This is your only warning. Drop whatever fantasy you're spinning, or you'll be facing a lawsuit."

I leaned in, smiling. "You have bigger problems to be solved. And whether you like it or not, his family already approved. And if you want him for yourself, go ahead. I don't even like him like that." My voice dropped to a whisper. "I just want the money. I'll divorce him later, so you two can continue your little affair."

Grant laughed

Mark blanched. "What? Don't start spreading-"

"It's already online." The elevator dinged. "And before you ask, the source isn't me."

The doors slid open. Grant, amused, stepped out. I followed, ignoring Mark's sputtering.

The office was a maze of cubicles. Employees straightened nervously as Grant passed. He did acknowledge them.

His face screamed leadership and control as he nodded at them.

A silent ruler. A wolf in a tailored suit.

And I was walking straight into his den.