Wolf's Kingdom_COBRA Coalition

by Amber Ella Monroe

  "I know. I'll probably hear it from Devin later, so I don't need to hear it from you now," I told him. "See you later, brother."

  I fled past him, but he caught my arm and pulled me back to face him. "Wait! I haven't seen you in over a month and then that was only because Devin requested your attendance at the council meeting. Are you leaving again so soon?"

  "You're leaving too, remember? What? Do you want me to stick around until you get back?"

  Dawson nudged me playfully. "Your mouth…"

  "I wouldn't be me if I didn't give you a hard time," I said.

  I'll be gone for a few weeks, sister. Promise you won't do anything crazy while I'm away," he said.

  "You know me. That's something I can't promise," I told him. "Unless you swear to return with Dutch chocolate."

  Dawson smiled. "Done."

  He put his palm on the top of my head—something he always did to show affection when I was just his little kid sister. Even in wolf form, he'd used his paw instead of his hand. My brothers would never stop regarding me as the kid sister they had to protect and I couldn't do anything about it. They protected me from threats that could be seen and I protected them from threats they couldn't see. That was my duty.

  Dawson looked me straight in the eyes and said, "And promise me you'll stay safe."

  "As always. You do the same. And come back, brother. I may not be here waiting for you, but you know I'll always return."

  He smiled and nodded. Then I let him watch as I left the room.

  Chapter Six

  Tristan

  "Tristan, are you ready for this?"

  Underboss Vincent Zovic-Reynolds passed the handgun to me as we walked out onto his private firing range.

  "Yes, I'm ready."

  "Where's Anderson anyway? Drunk at the whorehouse?"

  I cringed, but Vincent's speculations weren't far from the truth. My father came home last night drunk and smelling of pussy, courtesy of all the whores he fucked. Enolas, he called them. They were retained to pleasure Alphas in time of need. The custom was first introduced into the Arnou family fifty years ago to facilitate the insatiable sexual appetite of the Arnou men. My grandfather told me I was lucky I hadn't hit that age yet which was said to be sixteen. I promised him I would never crave something so badly that I depended on it for my livelihood and he just laughed. They said I was my father's son. That I would be just like him. But I would prove them all wrong. I would be my own man. I wouldn't follow in any man or wolf's footsteps. I would make my own path. I'd have my own legacy.

  "No matter," Vincent said when I didn't answer. "I'm going to teach you what I know. Before long, you'll be a pro—like me. Would you like that, boy?"

  I nodded.

  "Good." He nodded. "You and I are the same, you see. The only difference is you can take another form."

  "My father says we weren't meant to carry guns. We're wolves. We can protect ourselves without weapons. That's what he told me," I said.

  Vincent grunted. "Your father doesn't know jack-shit about the network, boy. That's a shame. All he knows is his Pack. You'll be a man one day and that's the first thing people will see when they meet you. Make them respect the man. They never have to meet the wolf unless absolutely necessary. Save that energy for your Pack. Out here…out in these streets. You conduct business as a man. You feel me?"

  I nodded.

  "You want to become Alpha of your Pack one day, right?"

  "I don't know," I said.

  Vincent scoffed.

  "The answer is yes," he corrected me. "Yes or no. It's never I don't know. Never lay out all of your weaknesses and insecurities for your enemies to see. Not even your friends. They can be used against you. Now, you've shot a gun before, right?"

  I nodded.

  "Good. Now I'm going to show you how to shoot to kill."

  Chapter Seven

  Tristan

  I rode the elevator up to the thirteenth floor of the posh office building. Eight years ago, the building had only been three stories high until expansion in other markets called for more room to house the employees. My grandfather agreed to fund the expansion, just like he'd agreed to fund everything else. In a sense, he owned the whole goddamned building…just like everything else.

  After exiting the elevator, we were greeted immediately by a young receptionist. She smiled sweetly. "I remember you. You're Tristan Arnou. Chancey's business associate. Nice to meet you." She was wearing a deep shade of red lipstick and some of it had gotten on her teeth.

  "Angela," I greeted, after glancing at the name badge pinned to her blouse.

  The receptionist shuffled through some papers on her desk. She seemed disturbed to be caught off guard.

  "Uh, I…I don't see an appointment," she stammered. "What can we do for you, Mr. Arnou?"

  "I don't have an appointment. I'm here to see Chancey, of course."

  "Uh, but…there's no appointment listed here for you." She frowned, looking at me over the rim of her glasses.

  "My appointment with Chancey begins now."

  "But—"

  "How old are you, Angela?"

  "Eighteen."

  I narrowed my eyes.

  "I'm only an intern," she stated.

  "Intern? That means you have some college education. You look smart. Do I look like a patient man, Angela?" I asked her.

  "No," she replied, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

  "Have you heard the rumors about me?" I asked, twisting the ruby and onyx ring on my middle finger.

  "Yes," she said. And with that, she picked up the phone received. After a moment, she said, "It went straight to voicemail, so he's on a call. I'll try again in a moment. Would you like to wait here in the conference area?"

  I sighed heavily and then stepped back from the desk. I didn't give an answer, but I didn't leave either. By the way, she was looking at me and my men cautiously, I could tell that she knew we weren't going to leave until we saw Chancey.

  In addition to the receptionist area, there were about five private offices on this level, but only one of them was occupied. Chancey literally had the entire thirteenth floor to himself. He used to be an associate who received special funding from the network for his real estate investments. To date, he still had an outstanding balance due—only paying the minimum each month to keep my collectors off his back. I remember long ago when he went to Vinny about a permanent job in the network. He was promptly turned down. Vinny believed that we didn't need another Capo, and for the most part, I agreed. And if he were alive today, he'd be standing right here beside me saying, 'I told you so.'.

  Besides various associates working for me, the network consisted of two other units headed by Capos. Capo number one was Stanley—a human whose family had no blood relation to either the Arnou or the Zovics—oversaw the network's tangible assets and inventory. Stanley's unit was made up of mostly street savvy humans who knew how to make a sale to anyone—from the homeless who just needed a quick fix or fast money to high-profile doctors, lawyers, and big corporate CEOs with side agendas. Stanley and his family were highly organized. He ran a tight ship and had been loyal to me from the get-go. He ran his operations with minimal instruction and screw-ups. I considered him a gem in my network. He was as loyal as loyal could get. He did his job. He ran his operations. He minded his business. There were two other Capos besides Stanley. Not wolves either. Men of human descent. One Serb and one American. Both who ran specific divisions within my network. Weapons, trade, gambling…whatever made money.

  I controlled the network's cash flow. And I was boss of the network, but it hadn't always been that way.

  Twenty years ago, the Arnou wolves were nothing but guards for the boss, the underboss, the capos and their soldiers. They practically owned us back then while we protected the interests of the Zovic men. For a time, we were our own unit within the network until I took control of it. Until Arnou took control…

  Tired of waiting, I approached the desk aga
in. "Call again. He must be off the line by now. Either that, or we'll go right in."

  Angela hesitated for a moment, but the look I gave her told her I meant business. I knew she'd heard of me, but what she didn't want was for me to live up to my reputation. I promised grandfather I'd conduct business professionally in the public eye. I didn't know how long I could keep that promise.

  She frowned but picked up the phone again. This time, I heard Chancey pick up on the other end.

  "You have a visitor waiting in the lobby," she said.

  "I'm reviewing the ledgers. That's why I didn't answer the phone the first time. I told you not to page me during this hour. Didn't I spank and fuck you hard enough this morning or do you need me to hurt you some more?" he chastised her.

  I was disgusted. At times like these, I wish I wasn't blessed with exceptional hearing. But then again, this only confirmed how filthy Chancey was.

  Angela's face reddened and she looked up at me sheepishly. "He's an important visitor or I wouldn't have paged you."

  "Whatever. Just know you'll owe me for this, so if you've got paint on your lips, you better wipe it off now because you know how I don't like that shit on my cock. Who is it?" Chancey asked, harshly.

  She looked like she wanted to cry, but then she regained her composure and said, "It's Tristan Arnou."

  There was silence, and then, "Did you say Arnou?"

  "Yes, sir. Tristan Arnou."

  "I'll be in the conference room." There was click and then the sound of the dial tone.

  Angela replaced the received on the cradle and then said, "This way, please. He's ready to see you. I'll walk you down."

  I caught her by the arm. "Do you like it?"

  Angela shrunk back, fear in her eyes as she glared at me. "What do you mean?"

  "Do you like it when he spanks and fucks you?"

  Her eyes shot downward.

  "Answer me," I demanded.

  She shook her head. "No. I'm just trying to pay my rent," she said, quietly.

  I bit my tongue, forcing myself to hold my emotions in check. Weak emotions that would only cloud my judgment.

  I nodded toward the hallway.

  "Take us to Chancey," I told her, quickly dismissing the issue.

  I followed the receptionist with my Elites close behind me.

  She walked slowly, probably deliberately.

  "Here it is," she said, coming to a full stop in front of a door with a gold plate in the center of it that read: Private conference.

  Angela swung the door open, but there was no one at the conference table. There wasn't even anyone in the room. It was dark.

  I exchanged a looked with my Elites.

  "Oh! He must be still in his office. Why don't you men have a seat? And I'm sure he'll be down here in a minute," she said.

  I gestured to one of my Elites and nodded further down the hall. Without hesitation, he went to check.

  "Sir! You can't go down there. Those are private offices," Angela protested. "I'm going to call security."

  "No need for that, Angela," I told her.

  "I'll get in trouble. He'll reprimand me…please!" She screamed.

  She was tied to the chair in the conference room and gagged on my orders so she wouldn't scream anymore.

  When the Elite reported back that all of the offices were empty with no signs of Chancey, I rushed down the hallway. Another door to the stairwell was open and my wolf ears picked up the sound of thudding, moving further and further away.

  "He's running," I said. "Let's go."

  Chancey Elliot ran like the devil himself was after him, but he didn't get far. Or perhaps he did. While still concealed by the stairwell, I ordered both Elites to shift. When we caught up with him, he'd made it all the way down to the basement level where there were less than a dozen cars parked. Probably the private parking area for execs and such. Too bad. He wasn't going to make it out of here without giving me answers.

  Chancey trampled over a speed bump as he dug into his back pocket for his keys. The taillights of a yellow Lamborghini flashed. My wolves took Chancey down without much effort. The pistol he was holding crashed to the floor as the wolves pinned him down. He screamed bloody murder even though the wolves hadn't bitten him—yet.

  "Stand down," I ordered the Elites, using my Slavic tongue.

  The wolves backed away but didn't change.

  "Oh shit! What the fuck!" Chancey scrambled backward while still on the ground. He was inches away from his cars, but his keys were sitting some twenty feet away from where the wolves had tackled him.

  "What's the matter?" I asked. "You don't like wolves?"

  Chancey breaths came in ragged pants like the life had almost been forced out of him. “What? You're siccing your guard dogs on me now? Aren't those things Goran's property?"

  "Goran's property?" I laughed. "Goran doesn't own my wolves. He never did. Perhaps you should check your facts before spewing your bullshit."

  "Why are you here?" he stammered.

  I shook my head. "Come on now."

  "It wasn't me. I swear it." Chancey tried to rise to his feet, but the two wolves growled in protest.

  "Guilty," I stated. "So, you know why I've come?"

  Chancey was kneeling now and he cast his eyes downward for a moment before replying, "Not really."

  "Cut the bullshit, Chancey," I told him. "Several members of my crew were murdered at the Oakhaven warehouse back in Virginia. Do you think I flew out all this way for nothing?"

  He grinned nervously. "You never know these days…"

  I was disgusted that he was acting like this was all a joke. "Get up! You look like a groveling idiot. You think I don't know what you're doing, but I know more than I let on. I should blow your brains out now for wasting my time." I unbuttoned my blazer revealing the two guns strapped to my sides.

  "Oh, no…please," Chancey wailed.

  "What would Goran Zovic say if he could see you now? If he could see you crying on the floor like a bleeding bitch? What did he promise you, huh?"

  Chancey held up his hands. "Whatever I've done to you, I'll fix it. I promise I'll fix it."

  "This can't be fixed. Not in the way you're thinking," I told him.

  "I just did what I was told…"

  "Were you told to sexually harass and fuck your receptionist too?" I asked.

  His mouth dropped open, then his face flushed.

  "You're pitiful, Chancey. You'll have to answer for your sins, but that's not why I'm here today," I stated.

  "Why are you here?" His voice trembled.

  I held my arms up. "Where are your guards? Your security team? Huh? A man with all this money. A man who doesn't pay his debts. Shouldn't you have money for proper security?"

  Chancey's eyes twitched, erratically as he tried desperately to process the information. Either that, or he was desperately trying to come up with some lie to tell me. I already knew the truth. Once my men used the tracking device to locate the package and I was able to link the murderers to Chancey, I knew the raid couldn't have been a random act of violence. Someone was sending a message. Someone was fucking with me. They just weren't wise enough to cover their tracks.

  Chancey shook his head. "All they tell me is who to get rid of."

  "So, you're an assassin for them now…one that doesn't pull the trigger himself," I noted.

  He shrugged. "Why would I pull the trigger when I can make a call and have it done for me?"

  "Lazy bastards like you always make mistakes." I laughed. "So, I guess that's why I'm here."

  Chancey said nothing, so I continued, "Are you in on this secret plot to destroy me? Why would you follow them blindly?"

  "Like I said, I did what I was ordered," he said.

  "By the Zovics?" I asked.

  He nodded.

  Anger flooded through my veins. "The Zovics don't run shit anymore. Let me guess…they promised you something. Perhaps they promised you a most lucrative position for your betrayal," I stated.
<
br />   He shrugged. "Maybe they did…"

  "It's a lie," I growled.

  "But Jovan says—"

  "Fuck Jovan. I don't care what he says."

  "You're part Zovic. Why are you fighting?" Chancey asked.

  I gave a short laugh. "Do you think they care that I have an ounce of Zovic blood in me. I'm Arnou, there's a notable difference…one you have yet to see. In either case, you fucked with the wrong man and I can't forgive that," I told him.

  "I told you I would do anything," he said, firmly.

  "You can jump back and forth over who you choose to remain loyal to. It doesn't work that way. You never understood that and that's exactly why you're in this position right now," I said. "You chose to transpire and scheme with two raggedy sheep, but I've been doing a bit of demolition and reconstruction myself." I pulled out my gun.

  "No…no please," Chancey pleaded.

  "Then tell me, what would you do in my case? What would you do if someone fucked with your money, your property, and made it look like you were reneging on a deal with a new associate?"

  "I—"

  "I take my reputation seriously. I deliver what I promise. Whoever ordered you to intercept my package knew what they were doing?" I said.

  "There was twenty grand on the line," he muttered. "I didn't know it was your product. He just told me to—"

  "You fucking liar. You knew what the Zovics were sending you out after and you knew who it belonged to."

  He looked away.

  "So, you put out a contract and had my couriers murdered, didn't you? You gave the order."

  He said nothing, but his eyes were telling. The scent of fear was even more telling.

  "Then that answers my question. I don't like being made to look like a fool. And I especially don't like losing customers. You fucked with my money, Chancey. That's a terrible thing to do when you're not free and clear either. Or maybe my demise is what you're after. You help the Zovics take me down and you have no debt. Geez, you're smarter than I thought."

  He pressed his lips together and his brows furrowed together. "The Zovics ordered me to do it. They'll kill anyone loyal to you, even those…" He shot a look a disdain toward the two wolves standing near me. "…those mangy wolves you brought with you. They're nothing more than dogs trained to obey one person and that's you. No wonder the Zovics got rid of them."