Page 82 of Holly Jolly Heat
He hung up.
I sat there, phone clutched in my hand, feeling like I was falling.
"Michelle?" Lucas appeared in the doorway, Ro and Dex right behind him. They'd all felt it through the bond, my panic, my despair, my fear. "What's wrong? What happened?"
I looked at them. My pack. My alphas. The people I'd fallen in love with despite every instinct screaming at me to run.
And the people who were currently threatening to destroy everything I'd built.
"That was Matthew Malone," I heard myself say, my voice oddly distant. "From Velocity Media Management. He knows about us. About the pack bond. About everything."
"How?" Ro asked immediately.
"Stream clips. Body language analysis." I laughed, slightly hysterical. "Apparently we're not as subtle as I thought."
"Michelle—" Lucas started.
"He's threatening to report me to the ethics committee for conflict of interest. For professional misconduct. For using pack bonds to secure exclusive contracts." My hands were shaking. "Unless I transfer you to his agency. Clean break. He positions it as you outgrowing boutique management. My reputation stays intact. Everyone wins."
The silence was deafening.
Then Lucas practically growled, "That's extortion."
"That's business," I corrected, my professional mask slamming into place even as I felt like I was drowning. "He's not wrong about the optics. If word gets out that I'm pack-bonded to my client, and it's already getting out, my other clients will question my objectivity. Potential clients won't trust me. The ethics committee will investigate. Everything I've built will crumble."
"So we fight it," Lucas said immediately, moving closer. "We explain the situation. We prove that pack bonds don't affect your professionalism. We show the industry that you're brilliant regardless of?—"
"How, Lucas?" I cut him off, standing up and pacing. "How do we prove that? The bias already exists. Omegas in business are already fighting uphill battles. Omegas in pack bonds with clients? That's career suicide. I'll be the cautionary tale. Theexample of why omegas can't maintain professional boundaries. Why we're too emotional, too driven by biology, too?—"
"You're not," Ro interrupted firmly. "You're one of the most professional people I know. Michelle, you've been managing my professional relationship with Lucas for six months with complete objectivity. The pack bond doesn't change your competence."
"It changes perception. And perception is everything." I ran my hands through my hair. "Matthew is right. I should have been more careful. Should have maintained distance. Should have never let this happen."
The words hung in the air, sharp and cruel.
And through the bond, I felt them land.
Lucas was devastated, like I'd physically stabbed him.
Ro was hurt, deep and cutting.
Dex was anger mixed with pain.
"You don't mean that," Lucas said quietly, but his voice was strained.
"I don't—" I stopped, closing my eyes. "I don't know what I mean. I just…I need to think. I need to figure out how to handle this. I need?—"
My phone rang again.
Callie Cross.
I'd never been more grateful to see her name on my screen.
"I have to take this," I said to my pack, unable to meet their eyes. I could still feel their hurt through the bond, and it was making it hard to breathe. "Just, give me a minute."
I stepped into the kitchen, accepting the call.
"Callie. Hey."
