Ryker's POV

Immediately Lucy stormed out of the room, something shifted in me. I couldn't explain my wolf smell luring me to her, but I tried to compose myself and suppressed the feeling. I hadn't planned on interfering with Vick's business; I was just there to observe because Vick had been bragging about the new girl who danced like sin and burned like fire, and out of sheer boredom, I joined him. But the second I looked at her, I knew she was different from the other strippers.

And t..that spark in her eyes when she picked the bottle and smashed it over Vick's skull... that wasn't fear... that was fury. My wolf sneer and fury? Is my favorite thing to tame.

I left the room before things could escalate. I didn't want to be dragged into Vick's drama, not when I had more significant problems on my plate... like the Council breathing down my neck about the Syndicate's bloodline program. They wanted results; my heirs, of course, my offspring. The whole damn package just to be seen worthy of the fu..king inheritance.

I quickly took the elevator, but even as I left Club Kill and stepped into the rain, I couldn't get her face out of my head. That pain in her eyes... that desperation... she was on the edge of something dangerous or scary. My wolf was restless, trying to take full control, but I continued to suppress it.

I left my luxury car in the pack lodge and took a short corner toward the lonely road where I could peacefully smoke without anyone watching me or taking numerous pictures. Just immediately after I turned toward the alley by the warehouse, I heard it-a scream and a shadow moving fast. I followed the sound-quietly and calculatively. Years of training to fit in with the most powerful and ruthless Alpha had taught me how to kill a man in silence.

But I didn't think I needed to, smelling the presence of a powerless gang. When I reached them, I waited for a second and watched from the shadows, a cigarette burning slowly between my fingers as the two lowlifes surrounded Lucy. My instincts flared when one of them yanked her hoodie down and shoved her against the wall.

I didn't move at first, my wolf furious within. I tried to remain calm, but then I saw the terror in her eyes-real, raw, paralyzing fear-the kind that made your soul scream even if your mouth stayed shut.

"Get off me," she screamed. She kept dragging with the bastards who were already on her and the other one who had his pants halfway down, waiting for his turn.

I tossed the cigarette to the ground and stepped forward. I didn't hesitate anymore.

"Get your filthy hands off her. You bastards"

My voice didn't need to be loud. It cut through the rain like a bullet.

Both men froze, one mid-motion, the other shaking as he released his tight grip on her wrist. They turned their heads slowly toward me, and when they recognized who was speaking, the blood drained from their faces.

"Alpha Ryker-"

"Did I stammered?" I growled.

The taller one tried to back away. "We didn't know-Vick told us-"

I was on them before they could finish. I moved like a shadow, fast and lethal. My claws ripped through the first guy's back, blood spraying like mist. One punch to the jaw cracked bone. The other screamed and turned to run, but I grabbed him by the neck and slammed him against the brick wall.

"You think you can touch any girl you see around?"

He choked for air, his eyes bulging. "We didn't know she was yours-please!" Let us go; we won't dare it again...

I released my grip, and he crumpled to the wet ground, trying to escape.

"Listen...you bastard" any word to Vick that I was here...you're dead...he nodded and disappeared into the dark corner of the warehouse.

She bowed to her knees, holding the remnants of her torn clothes to her chest. Lucy's eyes were glued to mine, widely opened, and she looked afraid. She was shaking frightfully.

Just then, I grabbed my coat and flung it over her, wrapping it closely around her quivering body. "You're safe," I said, trying to steady my voice. "It's all over now."

"Are you hurt?" My voice came out lower now. I was controlling but calm, though every part of me was boiling inside.

She didn't speak. But shook her head, hugging the coat tight around herself frightfully.

I bent to help her up, but she pulled back.

"Don't touch me," she said, her voice trembling and her hands shaking.

"I just saved your damn life." y..you..

"I didn't ask you to!" she snapped, sobbing. She buried her face in her hands. "Why is this happening to me?" Then she looked up at me, eyes wide with disbelief. "Why?" she whispered. "Why would you help me?"

"You may not recognize me," I said, pulling her up gently into my arms. "But I remember you."

Her brows furrowed, confusion flooding her battered expression. She passed out in my arms before she could ask what I meant.

I stared into her pretty, innocent face. Watching her close, bulging eyes was so calm and trusting. But I was surprised she didn't feel my presence that night; that meant she didn't know the truth yet. Since she didn't remember the night I watched her dance barefoot on a rooftop in the rain years ago, humming a lullaby to her little brother, that memory had haunted me longer than I cared to admit.

I never forgot her, nor did I forget her face. Yes, I returned to that rooftop day after day in search of her but couldn't find anyone in the house.

Rumors had it that the house occupant traveled with the entire family. Since I didn't get her name, it was difficult to look for her, not until she stepped into that room. I tried to control my wolf and pretend like I didn't recognize her just not to get into Vick's business. I knew I was going to come back to Club Kill to get details about her, but now... she was in my hands, and I was going to make her mine.

Ryker's POV

Leaning against the doorframe of Room 39, I watched the aftermath unfold. The cheap, cloying scent of perfume and spilled liquor hung in the air, underscored by the sharp tang of blood. Vick stood there, a tissue pressed to the side of his head, his face a contorted mask of fury as he glared into the hallway where the girl had fled.

Pathetic, I thought. A pack Alpha, brought low by a single, desperate woman with a bottle.

I'd observed the entire encounter from a shadowed alcove, drawn by the commotion. It was a sordid little scene, but within it, I'd seen something unexpected. Not in Vick, whose predictable rage was as dull as it was volatile. But in her. The way she'd moved, the fire in her eyes before it fractured into fear. It wasn't the performance of a seasoned stripper; it was the raw, untamed reflex of a cornered animal.

Vick muttered darkly to himself, wiping blood with a shaky hand before stalking out. He moved like a thug through his own club, all bluster and wounded pride. I let him pass, a ghost in the gaudy darkness of Club Kill. My interest had already shifted, its focus narrowing with lethal precision.

For months, Vick had been a useful, if grating, associate-a blunt instrument in a city of scalpels. But now, he was compromised. His petty vendetta was a distraction, a messy variable. And I dealt in control.

I already knew more than Vick could possibly imagine. The dossier on my tablet wasn't about a stripper. It was about Lucia Castellano, the last surviving heir to a fortune buried under layers of legal obfuscation and tragedy. She was hiding in plain sight, a diamond covered in the grime of this pathetic underworld. And she had no idea.

My phone vibrated silently in my pocket. A brief, coded text confirmed she'd taken the bait, using the back exit. Vick's men, like obedient dogs, would give her a scare. It served my purpose-to soften her, to make her world feel even more unstable. But they'd been given strict parameters. The asset was not to be damaged.

An hour later, I stood before the polished oak of Vick's suite door. I could hear the restless pacing inside, the clink of a glass. He was waiting for his validation call, his pathetic hit of power. I didn't knock so much as let my presence announce itself. The pacing stopped.

When he opened the door, his attempt to mask his agitation was laughable. The swelling on his temple, the wild look in his eyes-he was a boy playing at being a king.

"Can I come in?" I asked, the question a formality that was anything but.

He stammered an affirmation, scrambling aside. The room smelled of cheap cologne and cheaper ambition.

I poured myself a drink from his bar, the rich amber of the whiskey a stark contrast to the room's tawdriness. I let the silence stretch, feeling his anxiety spike. He was so easy to read.

"Are you sure everything is alright?" I finally asked, watching him over the rim of my glass.

He nodded, a jerky, bird-like motion. He was lying, of course. But his lies were irrelevant.

"Lucy," I said, letting the name hang in the air. It had the desired effect. He froze, his knuckles whitening around his glass. "That's her name?"

"What about her?" he deflected, trying for nonchalance and failing miserably.

"She's interesting."

His brow furrowed, confusion battling with possessiveness. "She's just a stripper."

I allowed a low chuckle. "Is that what you think?" I took a slow sip, watching the gears turn-or rather, grind-in his head. "I've seen her file. She's not poor, Vick. She's an heiress. The last living Castellano."

The glass in his hand jerked. Whiskey sloshed over the side, staining his cuff. The shock on his face was pure, undiluted. It was almost satisfying. "You said what?"

"Hidden in plain sight," I confirmed, my voice calm. "Smart move. She came here thinking she was invisible."

His mind was racing, I could see it. The calculation, the sudden, terrified reevaluation of his petty revenge. Lucy was no longer a toy to break; she was a prize he'd almost shattered.

"She doesn't even know I've found out yet," I continued, moving closer. My gaze pinned him. "And that's why I'm here. I need her."

His eyes narrowed. "For the program?" The surrogate program. My legacy required certain... arrangements. Genetic excellence was paramount.

"Among other things," I said, giving a slow, deliberate smile. "As my surrogate, she'll be mine for the next nine months."

He laughed then, a bitter, hollow sound. "Good luck with that. She's not exactly cooperative."

"She will be." My tone left no room for doubt. "Especially once she understands the alternative. I'm prepared to clear her brother's medical debts. In full."

The silence this time was absolute, thick with his dawning realization. I was not just stepping in; I was rewriting the entire game board with a single stroke.

"What?" he hissed, the word barely audible.

"I'll have her sign the contract quickly. The moment she realizes her body is the currency that buys her brother's life, refusal becomes a luxury she can't afford."

His jaw clenched, fists curling at his sides. He was fighting the urge to snarl, to lash out. But he knew better. "She'll fight it," he insisted, a last, weak protest.

"Of course," I said, finishing my drink and setting the glass down with a soft, final click. "That's the fun part."

I watched the conflict rage behind his eyes. Possession, rage, and a sliver of cunning. He was thinking of ways to undermine me, to turn this to his advantage. He might even be foolish enough to try.

"You're sure she doesn't know?" he asked, a new, scheming tone seeping into his voice.

"Not yet," I confirmed. "And I intend to keep it that way. Knowledge is power. If she knew, she'd run. We both know she has a bite." I fixed him with a look that was both a directive and a threat. "Your role is simple. Keep an eye on her. But don't touch." I let the warning settle deep, a cold weight in the room's warmth. "Is that clear?"

He nodded, the motion tight. The resentment poured off him in waves, but it was shackled by fear. Good.

I left him then, standing amidst the ruins of his own plot, already working on a new, more treacherous one. It didn't matter. He was a minor piece now.

In the quiet hallway, the hum of the club felt distant. The picture was crystal clear. Lucy Castellano was no longer a stripper, or even just an heiress. She was the solution to a dynastic equation, a vessel of superior bloodline, and a fascinating puzzle of defiance. Vick saw a threat and a pawn.

He wasn't entirely wrong.

But he failed to see the most important truth: she was now mine. And I always took care of what belonged to me.

Ryker's POV

The next morning, I visited the hospital where Lucy's brother was hospitalized. The sterile scent of antiseptic filled my nostrils the moment I stepped into Saint Mercy Hospital. Nurses in pale scrubs bustled through the hallways, and patients whispered behind thin curtains. I wasn't here for Eli or anyone sick or dying. I was here to talk to Nurse Kara to help me persuade Lucy to be the surrogate mother of my heir. Not just because of my inheritance or the syndicated program but because of what I found out about her, and that "was the true icing to the cake".

But first, I needed Nurse Kara, and when I saw her, I moved toward her.

"Nurse Kara," I called out.

She glanced up from the nurses' station, startled when she saw me. Her eyes widened, and she immediately lowered her gaze.

"Alpha Ryker?" she said quietly, with the appropriate level of caution. "What brings you here?"

I leaned against the counter, my expression calm but my eyes sharp. "I need a favor. And you're going to help me, Kara, staring straight into her eyes."

Then, she straightened her shoulder, unsure whether to be afraid or flattered. "What kind of favor do my Alpha needs?"

Still maintaining my gaze, I dropped a huge stack of cash onto the counter. Her mouth parted slightly, eyes darting to the bills like they might bite her deep.

"I want you to tell me about Lucy Castellano," I said evenly. "You know her. Don't play dumb. I already know her brother is hospitalized in this hospital, and she visits often."

Nurse Kara hesitated, clearly protective of her. "I... I don't think Lucy is someone that would get into any trouble with Alpha-"

"Relax." She's not in any kind of trouble, I said, trying to keep her calm.

"Thank Goddess," she said... Lucy is a good girl, Alpha. She has just been through a lot. Her parents died a few years ago-leaving her nothing but debt and trauma. She's just trying to survive right now."

I leaned in, lowering my voice. "Exactly. Which is why she's the perfect candidate. Kara, I need her to be the surrogate for my heir, and this will only be possible if only you can help me persuade her... I promise to protect her and compensate you well." I said with all seriousness. It's all part of the syndicate's program, and you know there's more to it than just an offspring."

Kara tensed, shaking her head slowly. "She wouldn't agree to something like that. She's already hesitant about doing any surrogacy at all when I suggested it-she doesn't know it's for a werewolf bloodline, let alone you."

"She doesn't need to know everything." I smiled coldly. "Not yet."

Kara frowned. "Carrying a werewolf child-your child-is dangerous for a human. You know that right."

I glanced around quickly and pressed a finger to her lips before she could say more. My voice dropped to a warning whisper.

"No one must know about this, Not about me, not even about the baby. Do you understand, Kara?"

She swallowed hard and nodded. "Yes... but Lucy isn't like the others. She's not desperate. She's scared. I only told her on her last visit that the child would be from a werewolf lineage, nothing more."

Though she bluntly refused, I believe I can talk her into taking the offer since she needs the money to pay off her debts and pay for her brother's hospital bill, too.

Ryker nodded his head," making her believe he understands everything, but inside him, he knows of the Castellano fortune, which was hidden years ago, and he had found traces of it...he wanted the child as leverage to it too. And doesn't think about loving or caring about her after the contract is signed."

Then, he stepped back and softened his tone. "Look, Kara... I don't need her love, care, affection or anything. All I need is her womb, and yes, I promise you that I'll protect her. Regarding compensation, I'll compensate her beyond her imagination. Just help me push her toward the decision."

She hesitated, then looked down the hall toward Room 208-where Lucy's brother lay.

"I just don't want her hurt," she murmured. "And Eli-he's... not well. The doctors don't know what's wrong with him. It's like something's... mutating him from the inside out. He needs care we can't afford. She's drowning in bills." We don't want to lose Eli.

Perfect.

"Just make her sign the contract. If she accepts, I promise to do all I can financially to save him. It's just so simple," I said.

"But you don't love her?" she asked, suddenly, staring at me closely. "Do you? Even a little?"

I..I don't..don't.. I hesitated, trying to find my voice. The question came from nowhere.

L..Love? I questioned.

"Yes, Love" Do you love her? Kara repeated.

I..I didn't have the luxury.

"No," I said flatly this time. "I don't."

Deep inside me, that wasn't entirely true. There was something about her-something that gnawed at my thoughts long after she was gone and the moment I held her in my hands when she was unconscious. Her fire. Her bulging and beautiful eyes. The way she moved fearlessly like she'd been forged in storms and fire.

Kara nodded stiffly. "Then don't lead her on. Don't break her more than she already is." I don't care if you don't love her or that you are only concerned about your offspring once your seed is planted in her, but please keep to your promise and treat her well," she said with such concern in her voice.

I nodded without responding, turned toward the exit door, and walked away fast on my heels.

I had what I needed. I left the hospital with a smirk dancing across my lips. The pieces were finally falling into place. Lucy Castellano-hidden heiress, human in desperation-was always the perfect vessel. She didn't know it yet.

By the time I returned to my penthouse, my phone buzzed. It was a message from Nurse Kara which says, "she's coming to see her brother tomorrow afternoon. I'll keep her in Room 402 until you arrive."