Page 1 of Billionaire Wolf Needs a Fixer

Chapter 1

KRISTA

The Uber peeled away, leaving me alone at a wrought-iron gate that looked like it belonged in a medieval fortress, not a Hollywood hotshot's driveway.Sleek black security cameras swiveled in my direction as I tapped my foot on the pavement, listening to the distant crash of ocean waves against the cliffs below.

The air smelled like salt and money, crisp, expensive, with an undercurrent of something wilder.I shoved the thought away.First rule of crisis management was to never let the client's mythology get in your head.

My fingers twitched toward the folder in my bag.The file contained the latest headlines about my client.

STORM CLOUDS: ACTOR LINKED TO CO-STAR'S FATAL OVERDOSE

The gate unlatched with a click and swung open.I walked up the long driveway to the grand front entrance where a silver-haired housekeeper in a crisp black uniform greeted me.

Inside, the house was a museum of rich-boy gloom.The dark gleaming wood doors and banisters contrasted with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the ocean.Framed posters of Levi's blockbuster films glared down at me like disapproving gods.

"Mr.Storm is working," she warned, voice hushed."He's volatile today."

I grinned."I specialize in volatile."

Her lips pursed."You're the fifth one this month."

"And the first who won't quit."I adjusted my bag, feigning nonchalance."Where's the beast's lair?"

She led me down a corridor lined with all sorts of awards including Oscars and Golden Globes, all polished to a spiteful shine, before pausing outside a half-open door.Raised voices spilled out.

The housekeeper flinched.I didn't.I'd heard worse from politicians, from rock stars, from my own father after his third whiskey.Anger was just noise.The trick was listening to what lay beneath.

Inside, Levi Storm was mid-meltdown."I didn't touch those pills, Portia!"A growl slithered under the words, primal enough to raise the fine hairs on my arms."They were planted, and if the studio thinks dropping me will save their—" His agent's voice screeched through the phone, loud enough that even I could hear it."Tell them I don't give a damn!"He threw the phone at the wall and the housekeeper scurried away like a startled rabbit.Typical.Everyone in this town treated Levi Storm like a god or a monster.Me?I'd built a career on handling the untouchables.

It bounced and skidded to a halt near my feet, his agent's tinny voice still shouting out of the cracked phone.I stepped over it."Classy."

I took a deliberate sip of my coffee, scanning him.The tailored shirt stretched across his shoulders was rumpled, the sleeves shoved up to reveal forearms corded with muscle and a thin scar running from wrist to elbow.A real one, not a movie prop.My fingers twitched with the absurd urge to trace it.Down, girl.He's a client.A growly, entitled, unfairly gorgeous client, but still a client.

Levi whirled, his blue eyes flashing with something feral.He was textbook Hollywood alpha male with tousled dark hair, broad elegant shoulders, and a jawline so sharp it could've cut glass.Exactly like his tabloid photos, if the tabloids captured the way his presence vibrated in the air, a predator barely leashed.But up close, Levi Storm was something else entirely.His eyes weren't just striking, they were alive, flickering with a feral intensity that made my pulse flutter.Nope, not noticing that.

"Who the hell are you?"

"Krista Fortune.Your new crisis manager."I set my coffee down on his desk, right on top of a script titled Alpha Redemption.Ironic."Nice throw.Would've been better if it hit me, pity press never hurts."

His lip curled."Another PR puppet."

God, he was obnoxious.And yet the way he loomed over me, all restrained power and coiled aggression, sent a ridiculous thrill down my spine.

I leaned in, close enough to catch the scent of bourbon and something wilder."And you're another spoiled celebrity who thinks tantrums fix scandals."I dropped my folder with a thud."Here's your obituary.Want to rewrite it, or should I?Your Q-score dropped forty points since Selene Reyes died on your set.Studio stocks?Plummeting.That fantasy franchise you're carrying?It's on life support."

He didn't take the bait.Instead, he inhaled deeply, his nostrils flaring.He was scenting me, I realized.It should've repulsed me.So why did my stomach tighten with anticipation?Absolutely not.I didn't do clients, and I sure as hell didn't do entitled alpha wolves.

A low growl rumbled in his chest."You smell like trouble."

I arched a brow."And you smell like a man who's about to lose everything."

A low growl rumbled in his chest, deeper than human, the sound reverberating in my ribs like a struck drum.My skin prickled, hyperaware of the way his nostrils flared as he scented me.Jesus.Does he smell the heat blooming across my skin?Focus, Fortune.He's trying to intimidate you.

I crossed my arms."Here's how this works.You follow my lead, I salvage what's left of your reputation.You fight me?"I shrugged."Enjoy retirement."

A muscle in his jaw twitched.Then, so fast I barely registered the movement, his claws unsheathed just a fraction, but enough to glint in the light.A growl rumbled from his chest, the kind that sent sane people running.A challenge.A threat.Fine.Two could play that game.

My breath caught.Okay, that's new.

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