Page 3 of Pack to the Wall

Standing at 4'11", the stranger wore an impeccably tailored crimson pantsuit that probably cost more than Chrissy's first car. Her white bob framed a face that radiated wisdom and mischief in equal measure. But it was her eyes that captivated Chrissy—startling blue that seemed to shift to molten gold as she fixed Marty with a pointed stare.

"Gerri Wilder!" Marty's demeanor transformed instantly. His grip on Chrissy's arm vanished as he stepped forward, charm replacing menace. "What a delightful surprise."

Chrissy rubbed her arm, certain tomorrow's bruises would match his fingerprints perfectly. The zipped-up leather jacket Leslie had forced her to wear felt suffocating in the warm room, the midnight blue gown beneath it suddenly too tight and too restrictive—like everything else in her life.

"Marty, darling." The woman—Gerri—smiled, but it didn't reach her now-golden eyes. "Always a pleasure. I was hoping I might borrow your star for a moment. Her performance tonight was absolutely transcendent."

Chrissy blinked, stunned by the immediate deference Marty showed this tiny powerhouse of a woman.

"Of course, of course." Marty's smile stretched wide, all teeth. "Anything for you, Gerri."

The moment he retreated a few steps away to engage with some industry executives, Gerri turned her full attention to Chrissy.

"You don't know me yet, but I know you, Chrissy. And I know you're not okay right now." Her voice was gentle but direct, cutting through pretense like it wasn't even there.

"Are you with the charity?" Chrissy asked, suddenly conscious of how tight her voice sounded and how close to breaking she was.

"Yes, I helped Stella plan tonight's gala." Gerri's eyes then sparkled with mischief. "But I do more than that."

She reached into her designer clutch and extracted a single business card, sliding it discreetly into Chrissy's hand with the practiced ease of someone used to operating below radar.

"I can offer you a way out of this situation. Somewhere private. Somewhere safe. With no cameras, no handlers, and no Marty." Gerri's voice dropped lower, forcing Chrissy to lean in. "If you want to disappear, I can make it happen."

A flutter of something dangerous—hope—stirred in Chrissy's chest. Disappear? The word felt like cool water after months in a desert. She quickly slipped the card into her jacket pocket without looking at it, all too aware of Marty's watchful presence nearby.

"Thank you for the compliment," Chrissy said, louder than necessary, playing along.

Gerri's laugh was genuine as she patted Chrissy's arm. "Chrissy, that was a beautiful performance tonight, and you look absolutely stunning." She winked and glided away, her exit as striking as her entrance.

Chrissy watched her go, her mind racing. Who was this nice woman who could make Marty Shriner—the man who terrorized everyone around him—suddenly act like a fawning schoolboy? And more importantly, how could she possibly help Chrissy escape a contract that had more teeth than a shark?

Her fingers brushed against the card in her pocket. Disappear. The word echoed in her mind like the promise of rain during drought. To be somewhere Marty couldn't reach her. To sleep without nightmares of schedules and obligations. Seeing her dad again someday.

The business card burned in her pocket, a tiny flame of possibility. Her back was against the wall, but maybe—just maybe—there was a door she hadn't seen before.

As Marty approached again, his smile a mask over the predator beneath, Chrissy straightened her spine. For the first time in months, something like anticipation fluttered in her stomach. It seemed impossible to get away from him—but then again, so had becoming a star overnight.

TWO

ZEV

Zev Landon stood on the patio outside his island resort's lobby with his hands planted on the teak wooden railing, surveying his domain. Morning sunlight spilled across Isle Luna, turning the Caribbean Sea into a dazzling carpet of diamonds. His keen gaze tracked a pair of staff members arranging chaise lounges along the pristine white beach that curved like a crescent moon around the eastern cove.

"Miguel." His voice carried easily to the head of housekeeping, who immediately straightened. "The Orchid Villa needs special attention today. Fresh-cut local flowers, premium linens, and make sure the privacy screens are operational."

"Of course, Mr. Landon." Miguel nodded. "Any specific requests from the VIP?"

Zev's jaw tightened imperceptibly. "The guest prefers absolute discretion. No photos, no social media mentions, and no press. Not that we usually allow that here. But this time it's particularly important that nobody gets any ideas."

He didn't mention that the VIP was Gerri Wilder. He rarely kept secrets from his pack, but Gerri's visits were always... complicated. She never came without a purpose, and thatpurpose inevitably raised questions that he couldn't or wouldn't answer most times.

His wolf stirred beneath his skin, unusually restless today. Zev rolled his shoulders, trying to ease the sensation.

"Something wrong, boss?" Tina, his events coordinator, approached with her ever-present tablet.

"It's nothing." He straightened, his six-foot-two frame casting a long shadow across the polished marble flooring. "Just a… feeling."

"Full moon's not for two weeks." Tina's knowing smile reminded him that his pack was attuned to his moods. As Alpha, his energy affected them all.

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