Impeccable Ledgers, Calculated Lies

JULIAN

I stared at the financial records spread across my desk until my eyes burned. Every column perfectly balanced. Every transaction meticulously documented. Too perfect, too clean.

"Damn it, Vaughn," I muttered, running a hand through my hair.

Three weeks of investigating my former Gamma's finances had yielded nothing but frustration. No unexplained withdrawals. No mysterious transfers. Nothing to indicate how he'd funded a secret rogue army without dipping into pack funds.

I pushed away from my desk and paced the length of my office. The logical conclusion was obvious but infuriating—Vaughn had external backing. Someone with deep pockets who shared his twisted vision of eliminating rogues. Someone who wouldn't appear in our pack's financial records.

A knock at the door interrupted my brooding.

"Enter," I called, gathering the scattered papers into a neat pile.