Page 81 of Holly Jolly Heat
"I'm working. What can I do for you, Matthew?"
"I wanted to reach out colleague-to-colleague. Professional courtesy, you understand." He paused, and I could practically hear his smile. "I've been following your work with CozyLuke. Very impressive growth numbers. Really stellar management work you've been doing."
"Thank you." I waited. Matthew Malone didn't call to give compliments.
"I've also been following some of the... personal developments. The stream clips have been making the rounds. Very interesting viewing."
There it was.
My blood ran cold, but I kept my voice steady. "I don't know what you mean."
"Come on, Michelle. We're both professionals here. The way you jumped into frame when Lucas was being trolled? The very protective defense of your client, twice now, if I'm counting correctly. The body language. The way you look at him on camera." Another pause, perfectly timed. "The way he looksat you. It's all very... suggestive of a deeper relationship than standard management."
Through the bond, I felt Lucas's attention shift. He'd sensed my distress even from the other room.
"Lucas is my client. I defend all my clients when they're being attacked."
"Of course you do. Very professional of you. Except..." I could hear papers shuffling, the theatrical staging of someone with evidence. "I have it on good authority, multiple sources, actually, that you and Lucas Morrison's entire pack are currently residing together. At your family home in Oregon. Very cozy. Very intimate. Very much blurring the lines of professional conduct."
My heart was pounding now. "We're filming holiday content on location, as Lucas has said on stream. That's not?—"
"Michelle, please. Don't insult my intelligence." His voice hardened, dropping the friendly pretense. "We both know exactly what's happening here. Pack bonds. Fated mates. It's not exactly subtle when you're all living under the same roof and you can't keep your hands off each other on camera."
"That's completely inappropriate?—"
"What's inappropriate is a beta, excuse me,omegamanager conducting a personal relationship with her client while claiming professional objectivity." He let that sink in. "Now, I'm not judging. Pack bonds happen. Fated mates are real. Biology is biology. I get it."
"Then what's the problem?"
"The problem, Michelle, is how the industry will view this. You and I both know the bias omegas face in professional settings. The assumptions about emotional decision-making, about inability to maintain boundaries, about using pack bonds to secure exclusive contracts." His voice turned falsely sympathetic. "You've worked so hard to build Influence Management. Years of apparently pretending to be a beta andfighting against omega stigma in this industry. And now one pack bond could undo all of that."
I felt sick. He was right. Everything I'd been afraid of, he was saying out loud.
"What do you want, Matthew?"
"I want to help." The smile was back in his voice. "Professional courtesy, remember? Look, you're in an impossible position. You can't manage Lucas objectively anymore, no one will believe you can. But I can take him off your hands. Clean transfer, very professional. We'll position it as him outgrowing boutique management, needing an agency with more resources to support his expanding brand. Your reputation stays intact. His career continues to flourish. Everyone wins."
"Except me, who loses a major client and looks weak for giving him up."
"You lose one client but keep your reputation and your other clients. Seems like a reasonable trade." He paused. "Because Michelle, let's be honest, if word gets out that you're pack-bonded to your client, and it will get out because these things always do, your other clients will start asking questions. They'll wonder if you can be objective. They'll wonder if they're getting your best work or if you're prioritizing your pack. They'll leave. You could lose everything you've built."
"Are you threatening me, Matthew?"
"I'm warning you. As a colleague. As someone who respects what you've accomplished." His voice dropped to something darker. "The ethics committee is already asking questions, Michelle. Someone, and I'm not saying who, sent them clips from Lucas's streams. Highlighted the body language, the protective behavior, the obvious intimacy. They're investigating whether there's been professional misconduct. Whether you've violated conflict of interest protocols."
My mouth went dry. The ethics committee. An official investigation.
This was my nightmare scenario.
"I haven't done anything wrong," I said, but my voice sounded hollow even to me.
"Maybe not technically. But perception is reality in this industry. You'll spend months defending yourself, explaining your relationship, trying to prove you can be objective. And even if you're cleared, and that's a big if, the damage will be done. Clients will have left. Sponsors will have pulled out. Your reputation will be in tatters." He sighed, theatrical in his concern. "Or you can make a clean break now. Transfer Lucas to Velocity. Let him continue his success trajectory with an agency that has no conflicts of interest. Maintain your professional integrity. Keep your business intact."
Through the bond, I felt Lucas approaching. His stream must have ended early, he'd felt my distress escalating.
"I need time to think about this," I managed.
"Of course. Take twenty-four hours. But Michelle, think carefully. You've worked too hard to let a pack bond destroy everything. Sometimes the professional choice is the hard choice. Sometimes protecting your business means making sacrifices." Another pause. "I'll email you the transfer paperwork. Just in case. Professional courtesy."
