The television painted my apartment in a cold blue light.

"-the deaths of biotech pioneers Elizabeth and Charles Vale continue to raise questions after their private jet disappeared over the North Atlantic last week. Authorities-"

I killed the screen and silence rushed in. For a moment I just sat there in the dark, elbows on my knees, staring at the reflection in the dead TV. I barely recognized the man looking back at me. Hollow eyes. Unshaven face. A week-old grief hanging off him like wet clothes. One week. Seven days since my parents vanished somewhere between Switzerland and California. Seven days since I inherited Vale Biodyne Systems.

It sounded wrong. CEO. I am the guy who argued with suppliers over soy sauce prices in a Chinatown restaurant. I had spent time wiping tables, then managing the people who wiped tables. My parents had built one of the most powerful biomedical corporations in the country, and somehow they'd decided I should run it immediately after they died.

The apartment smelled stale. Curtains shut. Dishes stacked in the sink. I'd barely stepped outside since the funeral. Lawyers and well-wishers called everyday. Reporters camped outside my building twice this week. I dragged myself into the bathroom and splashed water across my face. The mirror showed the same thing the television had; someone exhausted enough to disappear inside himself.

I noticed that my eyes looked different for half a second, Sharper somehow. Almost gold. When I blinked, it was gone. Normal. Lack of sleep. That was all.

I changed clothes and pulled on the cleanest shirt I could find. My father used to wear tailored black suits that made him look born for power. I looked like a guy heading to a late-night grocery run. The difference was, my father understood Vale Biodyne. I didn't even know what half the company actually did. Growing up, they kept me away from the deeper side of the business. When I asked questions, my mum would tell me to focus on school. She'd tell me to focus on my health too. And always take my medication. A tiny white capsule every month since childhood "for your condition". I never knew what condition.

Outside, rain hammered the city. I locked my apartment door and headed down the stairs because the elevator had died sometime last year. By the time I reached the street, my lungs burned harder than they should have. Another thing that's been happening lately.

The black Mercedes waiting at the curb looked wildly out of place beside my apartment building. The driver stepped out before I reached it. Tall. Bald. Black suit. The kind of posture that screamed military.

"Mr. Vale."

"Just Ethan." I corrected him. "Don't tell me I get to have my own chauffeur?" I asked in disbelief.

"You're the CEO now, Mr. Vale", he opened the rear door with a smile. "A CEO should arrive in style."

"Alright," I said, and I couldn't fight the brief grin on my face as I buckled up. It must have been the first time I'd smiled since the news of their deaths.

I couldn't stop moving during the drive downtown. My knees bounced. My fingers drummed against them in uneven rhythms that matched the chaos in my head. Grief sat in one corner of me, numb and heavy, while somewhere beneath it another feeling kept trying to rise. Anticipation. It made me feel guilty.

"Would you like some music, Mr. Vale?", the driver asked.

"Yes, please."

Soft music filled the cabin, something modern and forgettable, but it helped. I leaned back and lowered the window halfway. Cold wind rushed in and carried away the stale feeling that had been clinging to me all week. Until that moment, I hadn't realized how badly the apartment had started to feel like a coffin.

Downtown rose around us in steel and glass. Tower after tower climbed into the gray California sky while rainwater slid down mirrored windows like tears. Somewhere beneath the music and traffic, I felt a strange pulse under my skin, as though the city itself had a heartbeat I could hear if I concentrated hard enough. I rubbed at my temple and looked away. Sleep deprivation and stress. That was all this was.

The closer we got to the financial district, the more familiar the streets became. My parents had brought me here a few times as a kid. I remembered polished floors, security badges, adults speaking in low voices that always stopped the second I walked into the room. Back then Vale Biodyne had felt less like a company and more like a cathedral.

Then the building appeared ahead of us. Glass and black steel stretched upward into the clouds, so tall I had to tilt my head to see the top. Blue-tinted windows reflected the city in warped fragments, making the tower look less like architecture and more like something alive. The Mercedes rolled to a smooth stop beneath the front entrance.

Rain misted against my face as I stepped onto the pavement. For a moment I simply stood there, hands in my pockets, trying to accept the fact that this impossible structure belonged to me now. A week ago I'd been managing restaurant schedules and arguing over late produce deliveries. Now reporters said my name on national television beside words like inheritance, biotech empire, and billion-dollar corporation. Nothing about it felt real.

The glass doors slid open before I reached them. The lobby was massive. Black marble floors reflected the chandeliers overhead in fractured shards of white light. Everything smelled expensive. Polished wood. Clean stone. The faint trace of perfume drifting through conditioned air. Even the silence carried weight. At the far end sat a receptionist behind a dark oak desk, typing quickly across a holographic monitor. She looked up as I approached.

For a second her professional smile stayed perfectly intact. Then confusion flickered across her face as she took in my clothes.

"Good morning," she said carefully. "Can I help you?"

"Uh... hopefully. I'm Ethan Vale."

Her expression changed instantly.

"Oh. Oh my God. I'm so sorry, Mr. Vale."

"Just Ethan."

"Of course." She recovered fast, though I noticed the faint embarrassment in her eyes. "Welcome to Vale Biodyne."

Her nameplate read Kira. Up close she looked effortlessly composed, the kind of person who probably belonged in buildings like this. Meanwhile I felt like an intruder who'd wandered in from the street.

"You'll want the ninety-ninth floor," she said. "Lucy is waiting for you."

The name tugged at my memory. Lucy. My mother's executive assistant. She had called me every day since the crash, balancing condolences with board meetings and legal briefings.

Kira's expression softened slightly. "She'll help you settle in."

I nodded. "Thanks."

Three elevators stood beyond the lobby, framed by exotic plants growing from crystal planters. Real plants. Not the plastic kind you find in cheap office buildings trying to imitate luxury. Everything here was real. That was the unsettling part.

The elevator arrived almost instantly. Inside, mirrored walls reflected a version of me that looked exhausted and misplaced. Dark circles under my eyes. Hair still messy despite my attempt to fix it in the car. I looked less like a CEO and more like someone recovering from a bar fight. The ride up was unnaturally smooth. Floor numbers flashed past faster and faster until my ears popped slightly from the speed. When the doors opened onto the ninety-ninth floor, silence greeted me. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the entire city. Rain clouds hung low over the skyline while distant thunder rolled somewhere beyond the bay.

Straight ahead stood a pair of dark wooden doors large enough to belong to a king. My office. Outside the doors sat a smaller desk tucked neatly against the wall. Lucy's, apparently. The workspace was immaculate. Laptop aligned perfectly beside a leather notebook and fountain pen. Everything arranged with surgical precision except for one thing. A worn hiking guidebook. California trails. The edges were frayed from use. I reached toward it absentmindedly, then stopped. A scent lingered faintly in the air around the desk. Pine. Smoke. And something wild I couldn't place. For some reason, the smell made the hairs rise along the back of my neck.

"Mr. Vale?"

The voice startled me badly enough that I nearly jerked away from the desk.

"It's just Ethan," I said automatically as I turned.

A woman stepped through the double doors behind me, closing them softly at her back. She wore a calm, practiced smile that somehow felt genuine at the same time.

She was striking!

Golden-blonde hair was pulled into a high ponytail that framed a sun-warmed face with sharp cheekbones and intelligent green eyes. Not the cold kind of green, either. There was something alive in them, something vivid and untamed, like sunlight cutting through a forest canopy.

For a second, I forgot where I was.

Her outfit was sharp and professional without trying too hard-a fitted white blouse beneath a tailored black jacket, dark skirt, opaque tights, and black heels that clicked softly against the marble floor as she approached. Everything about her carried confidence.

"Nice to finally meet you properly," she said, extending her hand toward me.

"Yeah. You too," I replied, though the words came out rougher than I intended.

I took her hand a little too quickly and shook it a little too firmly. Lucy laughed softly under her breath, not mocking, just amused enough to make heat creep into my face. Up close, she smelled faintly of pine and rain. It was distracting.

"So, apologies for not warning you about the company car," she said as she pulled her hand back. "I figured you'd had enough thrown at you already."

"I appreciate it," I admitted. "Honestly, I was planning to take a cab."

"Not anymore, Mr. Vale."

The teasing glint in her eyes caught me off guard.

"Please don't call me that."

"What, Mr. Vale?"

"Yeah." I shoved my hands into my pockets. "Makes me feel like my father's about to walk into the room."

Something flickered across her expression at the mention of him. Sadness, maybe. Or guilt.

"Alright then," she said quietly. "Ethan."

The way she said my name felt strangely personal.

She leaned lightly against the edge of her desk. "My job is to make this transition easier for you. Nobody expects you to walk in here and suddenly know how to run Vale Biodyne."

"That's good, because I definitely don't." I let out a breathless laugh. "I managed restaurants. The biggest crisis I dealt with was spoiled seafood and employees not showing up for shifts."

"And now you oversee one of the most influential biotech corporations in the world."

"When you say it out loud, it sounds insane."

Lucy smiled faintly. "Your parents believed you could handle it."

The statement landed heavier than she probably intended. I looked away toward the windows before she could see it hit me.

"How long have you worked for them?" I asked, changing the subject.

"Four years," she said. "They hired me straight out of college."

"And kept you around that long, so you must've impressed them."

A shadow crossed her face again. "We were close."

For a second neither of us spoke. Then she straightened slightly, returning to business mode with practiced ease.

"There are a few things they left for you."

My attention snapped back to her. Lucy opened the top drawer of her desk and reached inside. I turned away before it became obvious I was staring at her too much already. She really was very beautiful.

"First," she said, holding up a gold key between two fingers, "their penthouse."

I took it carefully. The metal felt heavier than it should have.

I hadn't been to my parents' apartment in years. Most of our time together happened in restaurants or during carefully scheduled dinners squeezed between meetings and flights. They were always moving. Always building something. Now they were gone, and all that movement had simply... stopped.

Lucy handed me a sleek black phone next.

"Company issue. Every important contact is already saved in."

I slipped it into my pocket beside the key, then nodded toward the final object resting in her hand. An old video camera. The thing looked ancient compared to the technology surrounding us. Scratched casing. Worn edges. Analog. Her fingers tightened slightly around the camera before she held it out to me.

"This is private," she said. "Your parents wanted only you to see it. Preferably when you are alone"

Something in her voice changed the temperature in the room.

The curiosity hit immediately, sharp enough to itch beneath my skin, but I forced myself to step back from it.

"If I take it into that office right now, I'm definitely watching it instead of doing any actual work. I can keep it here until you leave."

She slid the camera carefully back into the drawer, almost reluctantly, then closed it. The strange tension dissolved just enough for her usual warmth to return.

"Well," she said, stepping away from the desk, "you should probably see your office."

There was something infectious about her smile.

"Lead the way."

Lucy moved toward the double doors, then swung them open. The office beyond was enormous.

For a moment I just stood there staring.

Dark wood shelves lined the walls from floor to ceiling, packed with books, artifacts, and framed photographs. A massive desk sat near the far windows overlooking the city skyline. Rain drifted across the glass seventy stories below us, turning the world outside silver-gray. But it wasn't the size of the room that caught my attention. It was the wolves.

Paintings everywhere. Wolves standing beneath moons. Wolves running through forests. Wolves with teeth bared in violent snarls. Some looked ancient enough to belong in a museum. An uncomfortable chill crept through me.

"What's with the wolves?" I asked lightly, though something about the paintings unsettled me in ways I couldn't explain.

Lucy glanced toward one of them.

"I believe it had something to do with the company logo," she said after a beat. "Your parents liked consistency."

The answer came too quickly and not quickly enough at the same time. She was hiding something. I could feel it instinctively, the same way you sense tension before a storm breaks. I walked slowly toward the desk, running my fingers across the polished wood surface. The thought still felt unreal.

Lucy stopped near the doorway. "I am right outside if you need anything. The office line connects directly to my desk."

I nodded absently, my attention drifting back toward the paintings. One of the wolves stared straight at me from across the room. And for one impossible second, I could have sworn its eyes reflected gold.

"How come my parents never got you an office?" I asked.

Lucy looked genuinely caught off guard by the question. She glanced toward the open hallway outside, then back at me, suddenly interested in smoothing an invisible wrinkle from her sleeve. "I never really needed one," she said with a small shrug. "I'm fine out there."

"Four years working directly under the founders and they still kept you at a desk in the hallway?" A quiet laugh escaped me, though I wasn't entirely joking. "My parents believed in earning things the hard way. Believe me, I know. But four years is still four years."

"It honestly doesn't bother me." She tucked a loose strand of blonde hair behind her ear, almost self-conscious now. "There were more important things to focus on."

I studied her for a moment. Lucy clearly hated attention when it was directed at her. Which was strange, considering how effortlessly she carried herself. She looked like someone who belonged in magazine ads and corporate galas, yet the thought of having her own office seemed to make her uncomfortable.

Still, it felt wrong. I stood inside a massive executive suite overlooking half the city while she worked from a desk outside the door like a gatekeeper. I made a mental note to change that later. Not today, though. I'd already managed to unsettle her enough.

"So," I said, steering the conversation elsewhere, "what's the plan for today?"

Relief flashed briefly across her face before she slipped back into professional mode.

"The board wants to meet you," she replied. "Conference level. Floor eighty."

Lucy moved around the desk and opened a leather notebook filled with handwritten notes and color-coded tabs.

"I put together profiles for everyone you'll be dealing with regularly. Personalities, responsibilities, internal politics, things you should probably know before walking into a room full of executives."

I gestured down at myself. "Do you think they'll care that I look like I'm here to fix the Wi-Fi?"

Lucy laughed softly. "You own the company, Ethan. If you decided hoodies were mandatory, they'd all show up tomorrow wearing hoodies."

"That's a terrifying amount of power."

"You'll get used to it."

I doubted that.

She flipped a page in the notebook. "The people you're meeting today make up your inner board. They're the ones who worked closest with your parents."

I perched on the edge of the desk while she spoke, forcing myself to focus on her words instead of the way morning light caught in her hair.

"At the top is Adrian Blackwood," she began. "Chairman of the board. He's been involved with Vale Biodyne longer than almost anyone. Extremely intelligent and careful. He'll decide whether he trusts you within the first five minutes."

"Okay.."

"Next is Evelyn Ward. Vice Chair." Lucy's tone shifted slightly, respectful but cautious. "She and your mother were very close. She's sharp enough to dismantle someone without ever raising her voice."

"Sounds terrifying."

"She is."

I smiled faintly. "Who else?"

"Daniel Mercer handles treasury operations." Lucy rolled her eyes slightly as she turned the page. "He likes power more than people."

"That sounds promising."

"He assumed he'd gain more influence with your parents and that he'd become CEO after they died." Her green eyes flicked up to mine. "Your existence complicated that."

"So he hates me already."

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't have to."

That earned the faintest smile from her.

"And last is Lexi Peterson," she said. "She's the Board Secretary and deals with agendas, scheduling, accountability, things like that."

I folded my arms. "That's my welcoming committee?"

"For now." Lucy closed the notebook gently. "The larger board comes later. The others thought it'd be better not to throw you into the deep end immediately."

"The others?"

She hesitated again. I was beginning to notice that look. Tiny pauses. Carefully selected words. Like there were conversations happening beneath the ones we were actually having.

"Your parents prepared for emergencies," she said finally. "A lot of systems were already in place in the event of their ... their demise."

I looked toward the windows overlooking the city. "Sounds like them. Always five moves ahead."

Lucy's voice softened. "Ethan, I really am sorry."

The sincerity in it hit harder than condolences from reporters or lawyers or strangers at the funeral.

"Work helps," I admitted quietly. "Keeps my brain from going places I don't want it to."

"And I'll help however I can."

I glanced back at her. "You already are."

For a moment neither of us spoke. Sunlight spilled through the windows, catching gold in her hair and scattering reflections across the office walls. She looked almost unreal standing there among the wolves and shadows and glass. Then her smartwatch buzzed sharply, breaking the moment.

Lucy looked down at the screen. "They're ready whenever you are."

I exhaled slowly. Truthfully, I wasn't ready at all.

These people had spent decades building an empire while I spent the last few years arguing with restaurant suppliers and scheduling late-night shifts. One wrong sentence in that meeting and they'd know instantly I didn't belong here. But maybe they already knew. Maybe they were just waiting to see how badly I'd fail.

Lucy must've noticed the tension tightening in my shoulders because her expression softened again. "You don't have to prove anything today."

"Feels like I do."

She stepped closer before I could think too hard about it. Her hand slipped into mine, warm and steady. The contact grounded me instantly.

"You'll be fine," she said quietly.

The elevator ride down to eighty passed too quickly. When the doors opened, another marble hallway stretched ahead toward a set of closed conference doors. Lucy gave my hand one last reassuring squeeze before letting go.

"The boardroom's straight ahead."

"And this is the part where they decide whether I'm qualified to inherit a biotech empire?"

"They already know you inherited it," she said with the faintest smile. "Now they're deciding who you are."

That somehow felt worse. I stepped out into the hallway while she remained inside the elevator.

"Go get them, tiger," she said lightly. "Then come back upstairs."

I nodded once. "See you later, Lucy."

"Good luck, Ethan."

The elevator doors slid shut, taking her with them.

And suddenly the hallway felt much colder without her there.

I stared at the double doors at the end of the hallway like they might swallow me whole. Which, considering the knot in my stomach, didn't feel far from the truth. Still, Lucy had done a surprisingly good job calming me down. The fact that she genuinely believed I could handle this meant more than I wanted to admit. My parents hadn't built Vale Biodyne by making careless decisions. They were methodical people. Brutally intelligent. The kind of people who thought ten moves ahead while everyone else was still studying the board. If they left the company to me, then there had to be a reason.

Even if I couldn't see it yet.

I squared my shoulders and pushed through the doors. The boardroom was quiet enough to hear my own breathing.

A long blackwood table stretched through the center of the room beneath a ring of suspended lights. Four people sat waiting for me, all dressed like they'd stepped out of a finance magazine cover.

"Mr. Vale," the oldest man said smoothly as he rose from his chair. "A pleasure."

Tall and silver-haired, Adrian Blackwood carried himself with the kind of calm authority that made people lower their voices around him. His gray eyes studied me carefully, not unfriendly, but sharp enough to cut through bone.

"Ethan is fine," I replied.

"Of course." He gestured lightly toward the others. "Please, sit."

I recognized them immediately from Lucy's briefing.

Evelyn Ward sat to Adrian's right, elegant and unreadable in a dark suit that somehow made her look even more intimidating. Across from her sat Lexi Peterson, younger than the others, composed and observant behind bright blue eyes.

Then there was Daniel Mercer. The treasurer looked about my age, maybe slightly older, though stress had already started aging him around the eyes. His expression tightened the moment I entered, like my existence personally offended him.

Interesting.

"Welcome to Vale Biodyne," Lexi said politely. "We're glad you're here."

"That makes one of us," Daniel muttered.

Evelyn shot him a look sharp enough to draw blood.

I pretended not to notice.

"You've met Lucy already?" Adrian asked.

"Yeah. She's been helping me figure out where I'm supposed to be."

"And the camera?" he asked immediately.

The room shifted.

It happened subtly, but I felt it all the same. Every eye locked onto me at once.

"I haven't watched it yet," I said slowly. "Why?"

Adrian leaned back in his chair. "You should."

Evelyn folded her hands together. "Your parents left instructions. Watching the footage is important before we can proceed with anything."

"It will answer questions," Adrian said carefully. "Questions we may not be able to answer ourselves."

I glanced between them. "Okay... now I'm officially concerned."

"As you should be," Daniel said coldly.

"Daniel," Lexi warned.

"What?" He spread his hands. "You all keep dancing around it like he's a child."

Adrian's voice sharpened slightly. "Enough."

Daniel fell silent, though not happily.

I crossed my arms. "You know, for a welcome meeting, this feels weirdly close to an intervention."

That earned the faintest twitch of amusement from Lexi.

Adrian stood. "For now, your focus should be learning the company. Familiarize yourself with the structure. Watch the recording tonight. After that, we'll proceed further."

Which sounded suspiciously like my life was about to divide into before and after.

I started backing toward the door. "Right. Secret mystery tape. Understood."

"Ethan," Evelyn said before I could leave.

I looked back.

"Your parents trusted you with this company for a reason."

The sincerity in her voice surprised me.

Before I could answer, Daniel spoke again.

"Let's just hope that reason survives first quarter earnings."

There it was.

I looked directly at him for the first time since entering.

"You're Daniel Mercer, right?"

His jaw tightened slightly. "I am."

"Lucy mentioned you."

"Oh, did she?"

"She said you're very passionate about this company."

Adrian coughed suddenly into his hand, clearly hiding a smile.

Daniel narrowed his eyes. "I've dedicated years to Vale Biodyne."

"I can tell." I smiled pleasantly. "And honestly, I respect it. Must be rough watching the CEO position go to somebody else."

Lexi looked down immediately, shoulders shaking slightly. Daniel's face reddened.

"But don't worry," I continued before he could respond. "I'm not insecure enough to fire people just because they wanted my job."

The room went dangerously quiet. Daniel opened his mouth, then closed it again. Adrian finally leaned back in his chair with something dangerously close to amusement in his eyes.

Interesting. So Daniel irritating everyone wasn't exactly breaking news.

I smiled at the treasurer one last time. "I think we're gonna get along great."

Then I walked out before he could recover. The second the doors closed behind me, muffled laughter erupted inside the room. Mission accomplished. I headed straight back to the elevator and returned to the ninety-ninth floor. Lucy looked up the moment I stepped out.

"Well?" she asked, leaning forward slightly at her desk.

"They seemed fun"

She laughed immediately. "That's good."

"Daniel Mercer definitely wants me dead."

"Oh no." Her grin widened. "What did you say to him?"

"Nothing terrible. Just putting him in his place."

Lucy shook her head, laughing under her breath. "First day in the building and you're already making dangerous moves."

I leaned against her desk. "They all told me to watch the camera tonight."

The amusement faded from her expression almost instantly.

"I figured they would."

"What's on it, Lucy?"

Her eyes dropped briefly before meeting mine again. "Something your parents wanted you to know."

Again with the careful wording. Whatever was on that tape, everyone seemed terrified of saying too much.

Lucy stood and brushed invisible dust from her skirt. "Come on. I'll show you the rest of the building."

She led me back toward the elevator, pointing out floors as we went.

"Seventy-two is research operations. Fifty-eight handles legal and acquisitions. Forty-seven is biotech development. Thirty-three manages logistics and external distribution."

"And the button marked W?"

Lucy hesitated almost invisibly before pressing it.

"The warehouse level."

The elevator descended.

"We store secured inventory there," she explained. "Some of the company's more sensitive materials."

"Heavily guarded secret biotech warehouse," I said. "Very supervillain."

She didn't smile. In fact, her whole expression tightened.

"There have been break-ins before," she said quietly.

Something in the way she said it made the temperature inside the elevator drop.

"Corporate espionage?"

Her hesitation returned.

"Something like that."

The doors opened.

Cold air rolled into the elevator.

The warehouse stretched endlessly beneath industrial lights, rows of massive storage containers disappearing into shadow. Security towers overlooked the floor from elevated platforms while armed guards patrolled the aisles below.

"This place is enormous," I muttered.

Then it hit me. A sharp pulse beneath my skin. I froze mid-step. Suddenly every sound sharpened with terrifying clarity. Boots scraping concrete. Radios crackling two aisles away. Heartbeats. Actual heartbeats. Pain ripped through my body so violently my knees nearly buckled.

"Ethan?" Lucy grabbed my arm. "What's wrong?"

Heat exploded through my veins. I staggered backward, gasping as something inside me twisted hard enough to make me scream. My hands-

"I don't know. Something's... wrong."

I could hear numerous footsteps further into the warehouse and the stench of something sour. It violated my nostrils and sent me staggering back into one of the shelves.

I could feel my anger bubble up as my elbows hit the cold metal, and before I could stop myself, I let out a deep howl that ricocheted off the cement walls around us. There was something in here with us that howled back, and I looked down at my dark clawed hands in bewilderment.

Claws burst through my fingertips. Lucy's face went pale. Bones cracked beneath my skin. My vision sharpened into impossible detail while a growl tore itself from somewhere deep inside my chest.

And suddenly every instinct in my body screamed the same impossible truth.

I was a werewolf!.