**Enzo’s POV**

The room was dark, the kind of dark that felt heavy, like it could crush you if you let it. I leaned back in my leather chair, a glass of whiskey in one hand, a cigarette burning in the other. The smoke curled up, filling the air with a bitter sting. Around me, half-naked women danced, their laughter loud, their movements slow and deliberate. They thought they could catch my eye, but they were wrong. I wasn’t here for them.

One of them, a brunette in a tight red dress, slid onto my lap, her perfume sharp enough to make my nose twitch. She giggled, her hands brushing my chest, trying to pull me in. I didn’t say a word, just chuckled low in my throat. That was enough to make her think she had a chance. She leaned closer, whispering something I didn’t bother to hear.

The door swung open, cutting through the music and chatter. Ren, my beta, stood there, his face tight, like he was carrying news he knew I wouldn’t like. I flicked my eyes toward him, then nodded at the other guys in the room—my enforcers, lounging on the couches, drinks in hand. “Get them out,” I said, my voice calm but hard.

The men moved fast, ushering the women toward the door. The brunette pouted, trailing her fingers down my arm as she stood. “You sure, Enzo?” she purred, batting her lashes.

I didn’t answer. Just stared until she backed off, her heels clicking as she hurried out with the others. The room went quiet, the music still thumping through the walls but muted now. Just me and Ren.

I stood, still holding my whiskey and cigarette, and walked to the window. The city sprawled below, a mess of lights and noise, but it didn’t touch me. Nothing did. I took a drag, the smoke burning my lungs, and waited. Ren knew better than to make me ask twice.

“What’s the message?” I said, my voice low, my eyes on the glass in my hand.

Ren stepped closer, bowing his head slightly. “Alpha, it’s about the Evans. The old man. He’s refusing to pay his debt.”

My grip tightened on the glass. That old man. Some lowlife gambler who thought he could borrow from me and walk away. My wolf stirred, a low growl rumbling deep inside me, itching to break free. I pushed it down, hard. I wasn’t some pup who lost control. Not ever. But the anger burned hot, and the glass in my hand shattered, shards cutting into my palm. Blood dripped onto the floor, but I didn’t flinch.

Ren froze, his eyes on the blood. “Alpha—”

“Quiet,” I snapped, turning to face him. My wolf was close, too close, its claws scraping at the edges of my mind. I stepped toward Ren, close enough that he could feel the heat of my rage. I lifted my bloody hand, the cigarette still burning between my fingers, and grabbed his jaw, forcing him to meet my eyes. “I don’t care how you do it,” I said, my voice a low growl. “Make him pay. One way or another. You understand?”

Ren nodded, his face pale. “Yes, Alpha. Whatever it takes.”

“Good.” I let go, wiping my hand on my pants. “Go.”

He didn’t hesitate, turning and disappearing through the door. I stood there, alone, the cigarette’s ember glowing in the dark. My wolf was still restless, pacing inside me, snarling for something I couldn’t name. I took a drag, letting the smoke calm me, but it wasn’t enough.

A soft hand slid around my waist, and I tensed. The brunette was back, her red dress clinging to her like a second skin. She pressed herself against me, her voice soft and teasing. “Why you so pissed off, Alpha? Rough night?”

I grabbed her wrist, not hard enough to hurt, but firm enough to make her stop. “Leave,” I said, my voice flat.

She laughed, like it was a game, and slipped her robe off her shoulders. It fell to the floor, leaving her in nothing but a slip of black lace. “Come on,” she said, stepping closer, her hand brushing my chest again. “Don’t you like what you see?”

My wolf surged, and this time, I didn’t hold it back. A growl ripped from my throat, loud enough to make the walls shake. “Get. Out,” I said, my voice more beast than man.

Her eyes widened, fear flashing across her face. “Yes, Alpha,” she stammered, grabbing her robe and stumbling toward the door. It slammed behind her, and the room was quiet again.

I walked back to the window, my hands shaking, not from the whiskey or the cigarette, but from something deeper. My wolf was clawing at me, harder than usual, its voice sharp in my head. *When will we find her?* it demanded. *Our mate. When?*

I stared out at the dark clouds rolling over the city, thick and heavy, like a storm waiting to break. My wolf’s question echoed, and for once, I didn’t have an answer. I took a sip of my drink, the whiskey burning my throat, and muttered, “Soon.”