Stefan’s POV
“Wow, wow, wow, what do I owe the pleasure?”
It takes a second.
A second to get up there, meet him at the top of the stairs where he’s standing with that stupid smirk on his face, and plaster him to the wall with my hand around his neck.
His smirk drops while his eyes widen.
He hadn’t expected that, uh? What, did he think I came by for a chat? There’s a commotion behind me–likely his men scuffling with Levi, Andreas, and Max. But I know none of them will make it up these stairs.
“Human trafficking, really? How low does this pack go, exactly?” I ask, obviously not expecting a reply because my fingers are not letting much air get past his throat, let alone words.
But he manages a few. “Fucking. Let. Me. Go.”
His hands grab at mine, but he’s no match for my strength. He should have known that on the night he challenged me.
He growls, and I glimpse his fangs breaking through his gums. Trying to shift on me? Yeah, I would like another go at that throat of his. Would probably feel better choking him with my fangs…
Stepping back, I pull him from the wall and fling him down the stairs. His body makes contact with the steps on the lower side and rolls down the rest. Coughing and grabbing his throat, he struggles to his feet. Two of his men show up to help him up, but he shoves them away.
After a couple of failed attempts, he finally manages to get on his feet. “What the fuck do you think you are doing?” he demands, his angry glare set on me.
“You should have asked yourself that question when you were buying that girl and abusing her.”
He scoffs, rubbing his throat. “Is this about the shifter girl? I was wondering where she ran off to. She looks a lot like your mate. What are they, sisters?”
“That’s none of your business,” I tell him, making my way down the staircase.
“She belongs to this pack. Give her back,” he demands, stepping towards the bottom of the stairs as if itching for a second go. Levi grabs him by the back of his shirt and pulls him back, then kicks the back of his legs and forces him to his knees.
Theodore tries to get back on his feet, but Levi keeps him there with a knee on his spine. “Stay down when you talk to the king. And watch your tone.”
“He is no king of mine,” he grits through clenched teeth.
“She does not belong to you,” I inform him since he doesn’t seem to get the memo. “She, and any other shifter you’ve got on your little workforce.”
He scoffs and spits at my feet when I get close enough. “Who the fuck do you think you are? I’m not one of your subjects! You can’t just walk into my house and tell me what to do. What goes on with my pack is none of your business. And that shifter? She is not your mate or your sister! So you have no right to come here, seeking retribution. Think you are untouchable? We’ll see what the Council thinks about that.”
The Council is the higher authority that watches over werewolf issues. Much like an oversight authority that ensures packs adhere to the regulations that keep our race hidden.
He is right. According to our customs, I have no right to be here, seeking retribution for a shifter who isn’t my mate. If he was to go to the council with this, I would be the aggressor. A werewolf attacking another because of a shifter? Ridiculous! As far as they are concerned, shifters are beneath us, and Theodore was within his rights to buy one and use them for whatever purpose.
But he is wrong about one thing–thinking that I give a shit what the Council thinks.
“Is that what’s giving you this much confidence? The Council? Will you run to them, tail between your legs, crying about the big bad king who has risen in the south? What are you hoping they’ll do…send a delegation down here to strip me of power and hand it to you?”
“I don’t need help taking you down.”
“Are you sure? Because when I come for you, I’ll not spare you.”
“Come with everything you’ve got,” he dares, his lips peeling back to expose his still extended fangs. And that gives me a brilliant idea.
I get my hand in there fast, and before he can catch up to what I’m doing, I have one fang grasped between my thumb and forefinger. He tries to get away but I grasp the back of his head with my other hand, keeping him in place. It takes one hard twist to pull the fang out of his gum. His men try to step in again but in vain.
The glare in his eyes has turned murderous as he covers his now bloody mouth with his hand. His jaw moves as if he is trying to say something, but nothing gets out.
“As long as you are in my territory, Theodore, you play by my rules. So if you have any other shifters working for you against their will, let them go before I pay you another visit. Because if I do and you’re still being naughty, I’ll take your tail.” I drop his bloody fang to the floor. “And we both know that one does not grow back.”
Me and the boys are driving out of the compound when his angry roar reaches us.
Good.
I want him angry.
We both know he is not going to do as I suggested. While he heals from the little wound I inflicted, he will likely be amassing resources to take me down, and that’s what I want. I want him to come at me publicly.
That way, when I wipe him out, nobody gets to say the new king is a tyrant who ambushes dissidents in their homes.
And by the time I’m done with him, he’ll regret ever looking Mari’s way.
***
“Oh my God. I don’t think we’ll be able to get inside any time today,” Gwen mutters as we pull up to the club. She is looking at the long line of people awaiting admittance.
“That shouldn’t be a problem,” I tell her as I open my door. She alights too and I meet her on the other side just as a valet hurries to get the keys from me.
Another car pulls up behind us and the rest of the crew alights. Hanna, Mari, and the boys. Wrapping an arm around Gwen’s back, I lead the group to the entrance. The guard pulls back the tape at the entrance instantly and lets us through with greetings.
Gwen looks back at the people waiting in line. “Are you a VIP member here or something?”
“Something like that,” I answer, flashing her a smile.
“He is the owner.”
I cut Hanna a look. “I can’t keep any secrets with you around, can I?”
“What?” Gwen asks, her voice surprised as she looks from me to Hanna. “Seriously?”
Hanna speaks up again. “See why you looking for a job as a waitress wasn’t gonna fly?”
We get to the door and the bouncers stationed there pull it open and we walk through. The place is packed, like always.
I keep my arm around Gwen’s back as I lead her up the stairs to the VIP area on the first floor of the club. “I own two nightclubs in this city, a hospital, a hotel chain, and a logistics company.”
“A hospital?” she asks, her gaze growing more puzzled.
I nod, taking a seat on a couch in the VIP area and bringing her to sit next to me. “Yes.”
“And a logistics company,” she mutters.
I nod. “And now they are yours too.”
She blinks and shakes her head as if trying to make sense of what I just said. Then she says, “That doesn’t sound right.”
“What? A werewolf owning a hospital and a…”
“No. You have only known me for…a month?”
“Why, are you planning on rejecting me and taking off with my fortune?”
Her brow creases, and I know she is thinking deeply about this. “Stefan, it’s–”
“You cannot measure the value of some things by time. Like this. What we have. It seems there is still a part of you that’s still stuck in your human world. We are bonded, Gwen. You won’t desert me unless I desert you. And I’m never doing that.”
“I could desert you first.”
“No, you won’t.”
“Hanna mentioned something about werewolves who were turned being less loyal than the rest of you guys.”
“Forget what Hanna said.” I reach forward and cup my hand around her ear. “What do I need to do to sink it into your mind that we are in this together for life? A human wedding? I can already picture you in a white gown. You would look exquisite.”
She chuckles and drops her gaze to the ground. “Never imagined myself in one.”
“Why not? Isn’t that what little girls dream of? Big white weddings?”
“Not little girls with my kind of childhood. Even as a young girl, I knew some things were beyond my reach. So I never bothered daydreaming about them.”
“That’s just wrong. Every kid should have a chance to believe in fairytales.”
Her eyes lift back to me. “I might not have believed in fairytales, but I think I’m living in one.” She laughs and caresses my hand. “It’ll all sink in. I don’t need a wedding.”
“I think I’m going to be sick.”
We turn our attention to Hanna. She doesn’t look sick at all. But her eyes are on us.
“I came here to get drunk on alcohol. Not y’all’s sweetness.”
Beside her, Mari chuckles. “I guess Stefan is still the gentleman. You two are so sweet. You’re lucky to have him, Gwen.”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell her,” I joke, leaning in and placing a kiss on the corner of her lips.
Her face brightens as she shoves me away playfully. Hopefully, soon enough, any doubts remaining in her mind about us will fade away.