Chapert 2∶The Hidden Traitor

The neon glow of the city painted streaks across Liam's office window, each pulse a mocking reminder of the time he was wasting.

Outside, the world partied; inside, Liam was drowning in paperwork and regret.

Isabella.

Her name was a brand on his soul, a constant, throbbing ache.

He leaned back in his ridiculously expensive leather chair-the kind that massaged your lumbar region while simultaneously judging your life choices-and scrubbed a hand over his face.

The scent of aged oak and desperation hung heavy in the air.

He was burning the midnight oil, fueled by lukewarm coffee and the sheer force of his werewolf stubbornness.

His mind drifted back, unbidden, to sun-drenched afternoons with Isabella.

Picnics in Central Park, her laughter like wind chimes in the breeze.

Late-night talks on his balcony, the city lights twinkling like a spilled box of diamonds.

He remembered the exact shade of pink her cheeks would turn when he teased her, the way she'd playfully shove him, her eyes sparkling with a fire that could melt glaciers.

Now?

Now, those glaciers were firmly in place, and he was pretty sure he was the one who'd built them.

A growl rumbled in his chest, a low, guttural sound that vibrated through the room.

He'd screwed up.

Big time.

He'd let his pride, his arrogance, his boneheaded assumptions get in the way of the best thing that had ever happened to him.

It was a classic case of "didn't know what he had 'til it was gone," and the universe, it seemed, was enjoying his suffering way too much.

Suddenly, the memory of Alpha Max's voice cut through his self-pity like a shard of ice.

"...we need to talk. Now."

Liam slammed his fist on the desk, the sound echoing in the silent office.

As if his love life wasn't a dumpster fire already, now his family was breathing down his neck.

He could practically feel Alpha Max's disappointment radiating through the phone line.

The unspoken threat hung in the air: fix the company mess, or kiss your family's support goodbye.

No pressure.

He swiveled his chair back to the panoramic view, the city lights now seeming like mocking eyes.

He was a werewolf CEO walking a tightrope strung between love and legacy.

Time to put on his detective hat.

His gaze swept over the organizational chart displayed on his monitor.

He needed to find the leak, the traitor who was trying to sabotage his company.

And he needed to do it fast.

His eyes landed on Henry, a long-time employee and seemingly loyal lieutenant.

But something about Henry had been off lately.

He had been acting sus, like a character in Among Us.

Liam frowned.

Henry had been with the company since day one, practically a fixture in the office.

But lately, he'd been conveniently absent from crucial meetings, always with some flimsy excuse about a "dentist appointment" or a "sudden family emergency." Liam knew his pack was good at sniffing out lies.

He decided to trust his gut.

Time to put Henry under the microscope.

A few days later, Liam found himself reviewing security footage, a cup of black coffee his only companion.

He watched Henry, his movements subtle but noticeable.

A furtive glance at his watch during a sensitive discussion, a hushed phone call in the stairwell, a suspicious meeting with a known competitor across town.

The evidence was circumstantial, but it was enough to raise Liam's hackles.

Then, a break.

A deleted email, recovered with the help of his IT guy (who owed Liam big time for covering up his disastrous attempt to install a smart toilet in the executive bathroom).

The email contained encrypted instructions, coordinates for a meeting, and a chilling confirmation: Henry was working with the enemy.

Liam felt a surge of anger, hot and primal.

Betrayal was a dish best served cold, but Liam was tempted to throw the whole damn plate.

He needed more proof, something concrete to expose Henry.

He couldn't afford to make a mistake.

One wrong move, and his company, his family, and his chance with Isabella could all go up in flames.

Fate, it seemed, had a twisted sense of humor.

That afternoon, while drowning his sorrows in retail therapy (a new Italian suit always helped), Liam spotted her.

Isabella.

Across the crowded department store, she stood by a display of designer handbags, her expression as cool and elegant as the diamonds sparkling on her wrist.

His heart did a tango, a cha-cha, and a full-blown mosh pit all at once.

He hadn't seen her in weeks, not since their disastrous argument that had left them both wounded and raw.

He started towards her, his feet moving on their own accord.

He could feel her presence like a magnetic pull, drawing him in despite his best efforts.

As he got closer, he saw a flicker of something in her eyes.

Recognition?

Surprise?

Maybe even... longing?

He couldn't be sure.

Isabella was a master of disguise, her emotions carefully guarded behind a wall of ice.

He stopped a few feet away, his breath catching in his throat.

"Isabella," he said, his voice a low rumble.

Her head snapped up, her eyes widening slightly.

For a moment, just a fleeting moment, he saw the vulnerability he remembered, the softness that he had foolishly taken for granted.

Then, the mask slammed back into place.

"Liam," she said, her voice cool and distant.

"What a... coincidence."

"It's not a coincidence," he said, stepping closer.

"I needed to see you."

She raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a sardonic smile.

"Did you? I wasn't aware my presence was so essential to your well-being."

Ouch.

Ice queen status confirmed.

He ignored the barb and reached out, gently taking her hand.

Her skin was soft, smooth, and warm, a stark contrast to the chill in her voice.

She stiffened, but didn't pull away.

"Liam, don't," she said, her voice barely a whisper.

"I have so much to explain," he said, his eyes pleading.

"Please, just give me a chance."

He could see the conflict in her eyes, the battle between her head and her heart.

A faint blush crept up her neck, betraying her carefully constructed facade.

The moment hung in the air, thick with unspoken words and unresolved feelings.

A nearby shopper, phone in hand, snapped a quick picture, the flash momentarily blinding them both.

Liam didn't care.

All that mattered was Isabella, her hand in his, the faint glimmer of hope in her eyes.

Back at his office, Liam sifted through the files on Henry, his mind still buzzing from his encounter with Isabella.

He was so close to winning her back, he could almost taste it.

But he knew that his personal life and his professional life were intertwined.

He couldn't truly be happy until he cleared his name and secured his company's future.

His phone buzzed on his desk.

It was Luna Grace, a distant cousin from the werewolf clan.

Luna was a kind soul, and fiercely loyal.

"Liam, I need to see you. It's about Henry."

Liam's senses sharpened.

"What is it, Luna?"

"I have something that might help you," she said, her voice urgent.

"Meet me at the old mill. Tonight. Alone."

He hesitated.

The old mill was a secluded spot, far from prying eyes.

But it was also a risky location, vulnerable to ambush.

"What do you have, Luna?" he pressed.

"Evidence," she said, her voice barely a whisper.

"Evidence that will expose Henry for who he really is."

Liam's heart pounded in his chest.

This could be the break he needed.

"I'll be there," he said.

Later that night, Liam stood in the shadows of the abandoned mill, the air thick with the scent of damp wood and decay.

The moon hung high in the sky, casting long, eerie shadows that danced around him like restless spirits.

Luna arrived a few minutes later, her face pale and drawn.

She clutched a manila envelope tightly in her hand.

"Liam," she said, her voice trembling.

"I found this. I think you need to see it."

She handed him the envelope.

Inside, were photographs, documents, and a detailed account of Henry's treachery.

Liam's eyes scanned the evidence, his blood running cold.

He looked up at Luna, his expression grim.

"Where did you get this?"

"It doesn't matter," she said, her eyes darting nervously around the mill.

"What matters is that you use it to stop Henry. He's planning something big, Liam.

Something that could destroy everything."

Liam clenched his jaw, his grip tightening on the envelope.

"What is he planning?"

Luna hesitated, her eyes filled with fear.

"I don't know the specifics," she said.

"But I heard him talking to someone on the phone. He mentioned a shipment, a deal, and... Isabella's name."

Liam's world tilted on its axis.

Isabella?

What did Henry have to do with Isabella?

He grabbed Luna's arm, his grip tight.

"Tell me everything you know," he demanded.

Before Luna could answer, a twig snapped behind them.

Liam whirled around, his senses on high alert.

A figure emerged from the shadows, their face obscured by the darkness.

A familiar voice cut through the silence, dripping with malice.

"Looking for something, Liam?"

It was Henry.

And he wasn't alone.

He was flanked by two hulking figures, their eyes glowing with an unnatural light.

Werewolves.

Loyal to Henry, and ready to do his bidding.

Liam's heart sank.

He'd walked right into a trap.

Henry smirked, his eyes glinting in the moonlight.

"I must say, Liam, I'm disappointed. I thought you were smarter than this."

"What I want is simple," Henry said, his voice smooth as silk.

"I want what's rightfully mine."

He gestured to the werewolves, who took a step forward, their claws extended.

"And I'm willing to do whatever it takes to get it."

Liam knew he was outnumbered,

outgunned, and outmaneuvered.

But he wasn't about to back down.

He had too much to lose.

He glanced at Luna, his eyes filled with determination.

"Get out of here, Luna," he said.

"Get to safety. Tell Alpha Max what's happening."

Luna hesitated, her eyes filled with fear.

"But Liam..."

"Go!" he roared, his voice echoing through the mill.

Luna nodded, her eyes filled with tears.

She turned and fled, disappearing into the darkness.

Liam turned back to Henry, his eyes blazing with fury.

"This isn't over, Henry," he said.

"I'm going to expose you for what you are."

Henry laughed, a cold, cruel sound that sent shivers down Liam's spine.

"We'll see about that, Liam," he said.

"We'll see about that."

He nodded to the werewolves, who lunged forward, their claws bared.

Liam braced himself for the attack, his heart pounding in his chest.

He knew this was going to be a fight for his life.

Henry watched the scene unfold, a smug smile on his face.

He was confident that Liam was no match for his loyal werewolves.

But as he watched Liam, he noticed something strange.

Liam wasn't fighting back.

He was simply dodging, weaving, and evading the werewolves' attacks.

Henry frowned.

What was Liam up to?

Then, he saw it.

A glint of metal in Liam's hand.

A small, silver object that he recognized instantly.

A flash grenade.

Henry's eyes widened in horror.

"No!" he screamed.

But it was too late.

Liam pulled the pin and tossed the grenade at the werewolves' feet.

A blinding flash of light and a deafening roar filled the mill.

The werewolves howled in pain, their eyes burning, their senses overwhelmed.

Liam used the opportunity to escape, diving into the shadows and disappearing into the night.

Henry stood there, stunned and disoriented, his ears ringing, his eyes watering.

He couldn't believe what had just happened.

Liam had outsmarted him.

Again.

He cursed under his breath, his face contorted with rage.

"Find him!" he roared at the werewolves.

"Find him and bring him to me!"

The werewolves, still dazed and confused, stumbled off into the darkness, their noses to the ground, trying to pick up Liam's scent.

Henry stood alone in the mill, his fists clenched, his eyes burning with hatred.

He wouldn't let Liam get away with this.

He would make him pay.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.

He dialed a number, his voice trembling with anger.

"I need your help," he said into the phone.

"It's about Liam. He knows everything."

A voice on the other end of the line chuckled, a low, sinister sound that made Henry's blood run cold.

"Don't worry, Henry," the voice said.

"We'll take care of Liam. We have our own plans for him."

Henry shuddered, his eyes filled with fear.

He knew he was playing with fire, but he was too far gone to turn back now.

He hung up the phone, his hands shaking.

He had made a deal with the devil, and now he was about to pay the price.

Back in the forest, Liam ran as fast as he could, his lungs burning, his legs aching.

He knew Henry would be after him, and he couldn't afford to be caught.

He needed to get to Alpha Max, to warn him about Henry's treachery.

But he also needed to protect Isabella.

He couldn't let Henry hurt her.

He stopped at a small stream, splashing water on his face to cool down.

He looked at his reflection in the water, his eyes filled with determination.

He wouldn't let Henry win.

He would fight for what was right, for his family, for his company, and for the woman he loved.

He took a deep breath and started running again, his heart pounding in his chest.

He had a long night ahead of him.

As he ran, he clutched the envelope Luna had given him tightly in his hand.

He knew that this evidence was his only hope.

He just hoped it was enough.

He pulled out his phone and dialed Isabella's number.

"Isabella, we need to talk."