“What have you got to say for yourself, Detective?” Aarons’s voice was trembling with a quiet rage.
“I was only doing my job, sir.”
“If you had done your job, we wouldn’t be here,” he spat.
The full impact of his words hit her like a jackhammer, and she visibly flinched. Curling her fingernails into her palm, she focused on the pain, because there was no way she would let them see her cry.
“Selinofoto is a good detective, sir,” Bushnell said, but Aarons only huffed. “And she followed protocol every step of the way.”
“I’m sure she did,” Aarons sneered. “I’ve also heard other things about her—”
“You are dismissed, Detective.” Bushnell’s voice thundered with force, but she knew it wasn’t directed toward her. Relief poured through her, and she nodded, then pivoted and went out the door.
The numbness began to spread, but she still felt eyes on her as she left the captain’s office. Everyone knew something was going on, of course. This fucking precinct! Didn’t they have anything to do other than stick their Goddamn noses in everyone else’s business?
She made a beeline for the women’s bathroom, the one place that would be empty this time of day. It was, thankfully, and she threw the door open and headed to the nearest sink. Her eyes were shiny with tears, but none had fallen. Brushing them aside with her knuckles, she took a deep breath.
Before she could even begin trying to make sense of the situation, the door flew open, making her startle. “You!”
He was the last person she wanted to see right this moment, but of course, Mr. High and Mighty Lucas Anderson shows up at the worst possible moment.
“Are—”
“You’re not supposed to be in here.” Did he come here to gloat? Well, she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of watching her cry.
“Sofia.” He took a tentative step forward. “I didn’t—”
“Get out.”
“Please—”
Rage boiled in her veins. “I said get out.”
“Let me explain—”
“Explain?” Her head jerked towards him. “Explain what? That you’ve been toying with me all this time, you vindictive bastard?”
“I haven’t—”
“You could have told me about your bodyguard—don’t even try to give me that crap about you forgetting—but instead, you withheld that information for the sole purpose of exerting your power and influence and then humiliating me in front of my superiors!”
The guilt on his face and his silence confirmed her suspicions. But before she could continue her tirade, the door flew open, crashing against the wall.
“Sir, you’re not supposed to be here,” warned the stern voice. “This is strictly for female officers and detectives.”
Winters!
Lucas took a step back. “Pardon me, I got lost.”
Winters raised a brow, obviously smelling his bullshit. “I’m going to have to escort you out.”
Lucas shook his head. “No need, Officer.”
“I have to insist.” She gave him a sweet smile. “I wouldn’t want you to get ‘lost’ again. The precinct can be quite tricky.” Opening the door, she gestured for him to leave first.
“All right, Officer,” he relented. He gave Sofia a last glance before walking out. Winters gave her a sympathetic look before following Lucas, the door closing behind her with a soft thud.
The tension began to drain out of her body, and she slumped forward, bracing herself on the sink. God, what a fucking mess she was. She’d never been this emotional, not even when the shit with Derek went down. But Goddamn Lucas Anderson was turning her into a wreck.
Maybe this was how rich people acted; they thought everyone was beneath them and they could just move them around like puppets. Or that they were dancing bears for amusement. And to think that night at Blood Moon, she almost kissed him.
Looking up, she stared at her reflection in the mirror. Time to move on, Sofia. Really, her career and her ego couldn’t possibly suffer any more, so maybe from here, the only place to go was up. And now that Lucas Anderson had had his fun with her, he could move on to his next victim. Because if she saw him again, it would certainly be too soon.
Chapter Ten
When he arrived at the station this morning, Lucas only thought of the satisfaction he would feel once he put Detective Selinofoto in her place. He already knew that he would win this game, and there was no way she was going to come out on top.
But his victory felt empty.
She never flinched or wavered the other times they verbally sparred. He threatened her when she confronted him, and she stood her ground. He even made her chase him down a deserted highway, but she remained cool as a cucumber.
But today, when he wounded her pride by implying her incompetence at her job and humiliated her in front of her superiors, he saw something that would haunt him for a long time.
Hurt.
And, Goddammit, he should have known better. Sofia was a woman in a male-dominated field. She probably had to work twice as hard as any man in the job to get half as far. He knew this because he’d seen it in his own mother. Frankie Anderson was not only a business woman but also a female Alpha in her own right, and she was constantly being underestimated. Hell, his twin was about to embark on the same path, and Julianna and Isabelle would always have people discounting their skills because of their sex. If any of them found out about what he did to Sofia, they would kick his sorry ass.
This whole damn situation wasn’t even his doing. Nick Vrost, who was still Beta and head of security for Fenrir, had somehow found out about Sofia and insisted they nip it in the bud by calling the commissioner. Frankly, he thought it was an overreaction, and if he had known what would happen, he never would have agreed to it.
He was a fucking bastard. And for once since he’d met her, his own wolf was in agreement. It ripped him from the inside, and he had no choice but to follow her because the animal was growling at him. Her rage cut into him like a blade, every word twisting it into his gut. She was right, and he was man enough to admit it.
“Here you go, sir,” the young female officer’s tone was sickly sweet and condescending at the same time. “I know this big precinct is sooo confusing and it’s easy to get lost and many of the signs here have big words like, ‘authorized personnel only’ so it might be difficult to understand.” She pointed to the sign above the door leading out to the street. “There’s a simple one for you: Exit.”
“Thank you,” he said, feeling thoroughly reprimanded. The officer smirked at him, then turned around and walked away.
His town car was already waiting for him at the curb. Reyes was standing next to it and he opened the door when he spotted Lucas. He was about to slip inside when he stopped and turned to the burly bodyguard.
“Reyes, I need to ask you something.”
“Sir?”
“You’re former military right?”
“Yes,” he answered. “I took early retirement when Mr. Vrost contacted me and offered me a position.”
“Do you have any contacts in New York?”
“Contacts?”
“I just need someone to keep tabs on Detective Selinofoto.”
“Sure.” Reyes scratched his chin. “But we have people on the Lycan Security Team who could do that.”
“You mean, those two pups who couldn’t tail her for more than a day before being discovered?” he said.
“Ah.” He thought for a moment. “I know a guy. Do you just want surveillance or—”
“Just watch her. I want to know where she is at all times and if she does anything unusual.” He lowered his voice. “And be discreet. This can’t be traced back to me, or Fenrir, or the clan.”
He nodded. “Yes, sir.”
As he got into the car, Lucas knew he was being an idiot. The smart thing to do was to put this behind him and forget about Sofia Selinofoto. He had already won the game. But his wolf wouldn’t let him rest. I
t seethed with anger, which was directed at him.
And her face. Her Goddamn beautiful face filled with hurt. Whenever he thought of it, his gut twisted with agony. He would give her some time, but he would have to find a way to approach her, so they could talk. Maybe in a few days she would cool down, and he could actually get close enough to talk to her and apologize. His wolf seemed appeased for now, and he only hoped he could find a way to keep it under control.
Reyes’s contact was good. No, he was excellent. He went to work right away that same day, and he was getting reports every few hours on her location. Not that there was anything to report. She went home, then went to work the next day. She went out for coffee, then lunch, then drove to a crime scene, then went home. The following day was Saturday, and she didn’t leave her apartment until late afternoon when she walked to the nearest Subway station. Thirty minutes later, he got the next report as he was sitting in his home office, going through some emails.
“Queens?” he said aloud as he read the text message. “What the hell is she doing in Queens?”
He promised himself he would give her a few days to cool off, but he didn’t think he could last any longer. What had transpired two days ago at the precinct haunted him, and each time he closed his eyes, all he could see was her face. Guilt and his angry inner wolf made him want to break his promise.
Grabbing his coat, he headed out to the hallway and then ran into Reyes, who was making his usual rounds around the townhouse.
He glanced at the coat in his hands. “Are we going somewhere, sir?”
“Yes,” he answered. “Queens.”
“I’ll get the car.”
And so soon, they were on their way. Reyes got in touch with his contact to get the exact location where Sofia went. Traffic was light, and eventually they reached their destination, the car stopping in front of a restaurant on Ditmars Boulevard in Astoria. The blue awning that wrapped around the corner said “Giorgios’s Taverna.”
“Is this the place?”
“That’s what he said,” Reyes answered.
What was she doing here? He supposed she could be having dinner, but there were lots of restaurants in Manhattan. She could be on a date, a dark voice in his head said.
“Was she alone?”
“As far as he could tell.”
Maybe she met up with her date here. A first date, maybe? That’s one reason why she would want to go somewhere far from her house. Maybe she didn’t know this guy. Perhaps they met on some hookup app. A growl ripped from his throat, and he didn’t realize how loud it was until Reyes’s head snapped back toward him.
“Sir?” His expression was cautious.
“Wait here,” he told Reyes as he exited the car. On the outside wall was a painted mural depicting white stone buildings topped with blue domes on a hillside overlooking the sea. He walked around to the side where the entrance was covered by an enclosed makeshift patio. There was a line of people outside, huddled under the heat lamps. Sofia wasn’t out there, and he ignored their annoyed looks when he headed inside.
The interior was surprisingly spacious with white walls and wooden beams. One wall featured a similar mural, while the rest had various photos and newspapers clipping. The one right by the entrance featured a young man in a chef’s hat next to a very famous American actress. He recalled some story about her having an affair with a Greek billionaire and living on his yacht before the paparazzi discovered them. It was a huge scandal because the billionaire divorced his wife to marry her.
“Can I help you?”
He turned his head and saw an old man carrying a large tray filled with dirty dishes. “I’m looking for someone.”
“We’re very busy right now,” he said impatiently. “Do you have a reservation?”
Glancing around, he saw that all the tables were full, and two waitresses were running around, filling glasses as the diners looked around annoyingly. If he hadn’t worked in his mother’s family’s restaurant, Muccino’s, for three summers straight, he wouldn’t have recognized how frantic and tense the atmosphere was inside. In a dining room this size on a Saturday night, there should be at least four wait staff serving, and they only had two. They were obviously having a bad night. “I don’t want to take up your time. I just—”
He stopped short when he saw a flash of dark hair and cat-like graceful movements from the corner of his eye. When he realized who it was, he mentally slapped himself on the forehead for not recognizing her immediately.
Sofia looked different tonight, with her mahogany hair pulled up into a sleek high ponytail, plus she was wearing more makeup. Instead of her usual dark suit jacket and trousers, she was wearing a crisp white shirt and a black skirt that showed off her slim calves. Truly, the outfit shouldn’t have affected him, but seeing her in something so different arrested him. She was carrying a tray laden with food and was placing plates on a table with four diners. What the hell was she doing working here? Surely she made enough money as a detective?
“Hey!” The old man slammed the tray on the hostess’s station, the dishes inside clattering loudly. “If you don’t have a reservation, then you can wait outside or find somewhere else to go.”
“I’m sorry, I just need to talk to Sofia.”
A bushy white brow raised. “Sofia? She’s busy. We. Are. All. Busy.” He emphasized his words by slamming the tray up and down.
He felt a familiar presence behind him and turned his head.
“Pappoús? What’s going on—you!” Sofia hissed when their eyes met. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Is this your friend, Sofia? He says he wants to talk to you.”
“Friend?” She glared at Lucas. “Not at all, Pappoús.”
“Then what is he doing here?”
“Leaving,” she declared.
“Sofia, please,” he began.
“It’s one thing for you to gloat when I’m at the precinct, but I won’t allow it here.” Anger blazed in her eyes, and fucking hell, she looked even more beautiful. Like an avenging Goddess coming down from heaven.
“I’m not here to gloat.”
“Then why are you here?” she shot back.
“I’m here to apologize.”
That seemed to shock her into silence.
“Sofia, I—”
“Papa! Sofia!” another voice called frantically. “What’s going on out there?” A man’s head was peeking through the small window from the kitchen where food was passed to the waitstaff. “Stop dawdling, the food’s getting cold, and the dishes are piling up!”
“Sorry, Dad!” Sofia called back, then turned back to Lucas. “Leave. Just leave and never come here again! I don’t want your apologies.”
“But—”
The man who was obviously Sofia’s grandfather turned to him with a stern look. “Young man, unless you’re planning to help in the kitchen, I demand you leave right now.”
“Fine.” He wrestled the tray from him. “Which way?”
The older man looked confused. “Which way to where?”
Lucas hauled the tray up. “To the kitchen.”
“What?” Sofia exclaimed. “What the fuck—get out of here!”
“Papa! Sofia!” the man in the kitchen bellowed. “Come on now!”
“Fine,” the old man said. “Come with me.”
“Pappoús!”
But Sofia’s cries of indignation were ignored as he followed the old man to the kitchen area. The old man pushed the swinging door to let him inside. As soon as he was in, he glanced around, trying to assess the situation. Sofia’s father was by the stove, watching over the pots and pans on the industrial-sized burners. There was only one other person there, a short, middle-aged Hispanic man crouched over the counter as he chopped onions with rapid speed without missing a beat.
“This is your crew?” he asked, surprised. “It’s Saturday night. And you’re fully booked.”
“Tell me about it.” The old man handed him an apron. “One server, a line
cook, and my busboy–dishwasher all call out sick! Some bug going around. Then, it’s like the whole neighborhood decided they were fed up with cooking at home and decided to eat out tonight! Madness, I tell you.”
“Who is this man?” Sofia’s father pointed a wooden spoon at Lucas like it was a sword.
The old man scratched his head. “Eh, who are you again?”
“Lucas. Lucas Anderson.”
“Giorgios Selinofoto,” he introduced. “And that’s my son, George. George, this is Lucas. Sofia’s, uh—he came here to see Sofia.”
George Selinofoto’s piercing gaze bore straight into him. “Then why are you in my kitchen?”
“He wanted to help.”
Slate gray eyes looked him up and down. They were the only feature on his face that marked him as Sofia’s dad. “All right then. Help.” He turned back to the stove.
“Load those,” Giorgios pointed his chin at the tray of dirty dishes, “into the dishwasher. I’ll be out front, helping Nicki and Sofia.”
“Yes, sir.”
Lucas walked over to the large commercial dishwasher in the back. Placing the tray down on the sink, he began to systematically scrape the food from the dishes and load them into the dishwasher. By the time he was done, Giorgios had already placed a second tray by his feet. He made quick work of that as well, then started the machine.
“What else can I do?” he asked George.
“What do you know how to do?” the other man challenged.
Lucas looked around. “I can help with the prep.”
“Ernesto,” he called to the Hispanic man who was now slicing bell peppers. “Tell the boy what needs to be prepped then get on the grill.”
Lucas felt the corner of his lips tug up. He hadn’t been a boy in ages, but he wasn’t about to argue with a man in his own kitchen. He’d learned that lesson the hard way from Uncle Dante.
Using a mixture of pantomime and broken English, Ernesto told him which of the ingredients needed to be chopped and how.
“Gracias,” he said. “Yo me encargaré de ello.”
Alpha Ascending Page 9
