Mated to My Fiancé’s Alpha King Brother

8 Chapter 8

Seraphina’s POV 1

Claire patiently explained the workflow to me, her elegant voice weaving through the complexities of managing

an Alpha’s schedule with the skill of someone who’d been doing this for decades. | found myself frantically

scribbling notes, trying to capture every nuance of her

instructions.

“The key,” she said, adjusting her reading glasses as she pointed to a color-coded calendar system, “is

anticipating his needs before he even realizes he has them. Damien operates three moves ahead of everyone

else, so you need to think like a chess master, not a checkers

player.”

I nodded enthusiastically, feeling like a student absorbing wisdom from a master. “So the red entries are pack

business, blue for

corporate meetings, and green for...?”

“Personal time. Though between you and me, he rarely takes it.” Claire’s expression softened with motherly

concern. “That boy works

himself to the bone.”

We had established a surprisingly good working rhythm over the past few hours. Claire’s decades of experience

paired with my fresh perspective created an unexpected synergy. The afternoon sunlight streaming through the

floor-to-ceiling windows bathed everything in a golden glow, and for the first tsince arriving at Nightshadow

Industries, | felt like maybe-just maybe-I could actually succeed

here.

“I need to take a call in the conference room,” Claire announced, glancing at her phone. “You'll be fine on your

own for a few minutes,

won't you?”

“Of course,” | replied, feeling confident enough to flash her a genuine smile. “I'll just review these notes and

start organizing tomorrow's

schedule.”

The moment Claire's heels clicked away down the marble hallway, the office fell into a peaceful silence. | spread

my notes across the

pristine desk, marveling at how different this felt from my cramped workspace at my previous job. Here, | had

room to think, to breathe,

to actually-

*RING!*

The sharp sound of the phone cut through the tranquility like a knife through silk. My heart jumped into my

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throat as | stared at the

sleek black device, its red light blinking insistently.

| took a deep breath, smoothed my skirt, and lifted the receiver with what | hoped was confident grace.

“Nightshadow Industries, CEO's office. Good afternoon, how may | help you?”

The silence that followed stretched for what felt like an eternity. Then, like thunder rolling across a clear sky,

cthat voice-

“Ha! It's you again!”

The low chuckle that followed sent an unexpected shiver down my spine. Why did he sound... almost pleased?

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“Yes, Mr. Nightshadow. It’sagain!” | managed to chirp, though my voice cout higher than intended. |

cleared my throat and tried again. “I'm your new assistant, remember? Do you have any new instructions for

me?”

| could practically hear him smiling through the phone, and somehow that was even more terrifying than his

anger had been. “As a matter of fact, | do have something for you.” His voice dropped to that dangerously

smooth tone that made my wolf whimper in my mind. “I've decided to move up my weekend return to tomorrow.

Change of plans-pack business wrapped up earlier than expected.”

“Oh!” | scrambled for a pen, nearly knocking over my coffee cup in the process. “Of course, sir. What tshould

| expect you?”

“That's not all.” There was definitely amusement in his voice now, like a cat playing with a particularly

entertaining mouse. “When | arrive tomorrow, | want to host a dinner for all company management personnel.

Consider it a... welccelebration for our new team

member.”

The pen froze in my

hand. “I'm sorry, could you repeat that?”

“A dinner party, Miss Knight. Tomorrow evening. All fifteen department heads, their spouses if they have them,

somewhere elegant but not ostentatious. Wine pairings, dietary accommodations, the works.” He paused, and |

could practically hear his smirk. “I expect

everything to be arranged perfectly by the t| get there. Make sure to collect everyone's preferences,

coordinate with their

schedules, and for the love of the Moon Goddess, don’t screw this up.”

My mouth fell open. | stared at the phone as if it had suddenly sprouted fangs and started hissing at me. “What?

Wait, sir, | don’t think

organizing elaborate dinner parties is part of my job description! And today is almost over-I'm still familiarizing

myself with the work

environment, learning people’s names, figuring out where the coffee machine is!”

My voice rose with each word as the sheer impossibility of his request hitlike a freight train. “Your request is

completely

unreasonable!”

The silence that followed was so complete | wondered if the line had gone dead. Then, in a voice that could have

frozen hellfire, he

spoke:

“Alphas don’t make unreasonable requests, Miss Knight.” Each word was precisely enunciated, sharp as broken

glass. “We make

expectations clear and trust our pack to meet them. If you feel you can’t handle the job, you're welcto

resign at any time. Your

predecessor's desk is still warm.”

The line went dead with a decisive click that felt like a door slamming in my face.

“What?!” | stared at the phone in my hand as if it were a venomous snake. “WHAT?!”

| stood frozen by my desk, the receiver still pressed to my ear, listening to the dial tone while my entire world

spun off its axis. On my

very first day-my FIRST DAY-my mysterious, terrifying boss was already making my life a living nightmare with

what seemed like a

completely impossible task.

| felt my eye twitch.

The sound of familiar heels clicking on marble announced Claire's return. She took one look at my flushed face

and disheveled

appearance and immediately understood what had happened.

“Oh dear,” she said mildly, setting down her phone with the calm of someone who'd weathered many storms.

“He called again, didn’t he?”

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8 Chapter 8

“Claire...” | turned to her with what | was sure were slightly wild eyes. “He’s absolutely, completely, utterly

insufferable! He wantsto organize sfancy dinner party for tomorrow night-fifteen department heads,

spouses, dietary restrictions, wine pairings-and he

acts like it’s as simple as ordering a pizza!”

Claire's lips twitched with what looked suspiciously like suppressed laughter. “Take a breath, dear.”

“And another thing!” | continued, too wound up to stop. “His voice is all smooth and... and SMUG, like he knows

exactly how impossible this is and he’s enjoying watchingpanic! | bet he’s sitting in his fancy hotel room

right now, probably drinking expensive whiskey and laughing about the poor omega who's about to have a

nervous breakdown trying to plan his stupid dinner party!”

| paused to gasp for air, realizing I'd been gesticulating wildly while ranting. “I'm sorry, that was completely

unprofessional. | shouldn't

have called him insufferable. Or smug. Even if he is both of those things.”

Claire burst into delighted laughter-not the polite chuckle I'd expected, but full-bodied, genuine amusement that

transformed her

elegant features.

“Oh, Seraphina,” she said, wiping tears from her eyes. “You are exactly what this place has been missing.”

| blinked at her in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Backbone, dear. Fire. The last three assistants would have burst into tears and quit via text message by now.”

She moved to her desk and began pulling out files with practiced efficiency. “Our Alpha doesn’t want a simpering

yes-woman. He wants someone who can think on

their feet, handle pressure, and yes-push back when necessary.”

“Push back?” | squeaked. “I think | just committed career suicide!”

“Nonsense. If he wanted to fire you, you'd already be gone. Trust me-I've seen it happen.” Claire's expression

grew thoughtful. “Damien

is... complicated. He's been hurt before by people who wanted to use him, so he tests everyone who gets close.”

| stared down at the directory of members, its weight both literal and metaphorical in my hands. “And if | fail?”

“Then you'll fail having tried your absolute best, which is more than most people can say.” Claire's voice gentled.

“But | don’t think you're

going to fail. Do you know why?”

| shook my head mutely.

“Because you're already thinking about Mr. Harrison's shellfish allergy and Ms. Chen's dietary preferences. You're

not focusing on the

impossibility-you're focusing on the solution.”

For the first tsince the phone call, | felt a tiny spark of hope flicker in my chest. “You really think I can do

this?”

“I think we can do this,” Claire corrected with a conspiratorial smile. “I didn’t survive forty years in this business

by abandoning

promising young women to sink or swim alone.”

And so began the most intense three hours of my professional life.

0017

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