Page 34 of Assisting the Alpha
Skye is less subtle, spinning in his chair and wheeling over to Kit and me. “Can we gossip now? Getting you alone without Ethan is like asking Raj to part with his Armani suits. Not impossible, but not worth the fight.”
“Um…” I’m not sure what they want me to say that they can’t already smell.
“Is it serious?” Skye asks.
“Or just a bit of fun?” Kit waggles their eyebrows.
“I’m… not sure?” It’s definitely a lot of fun, but more than that? Who knows?
Cal sighs, then turns and pins Skye and Kit with a look. “Give the man space. It’s none of our business.”
Kit rolls their eyes but turns to the post that came in this morning. Skye pouts, and with his model good looks, it’s really effective.
Cal’s mouth twitches. “Nice try, little one. Get over here. We’ve got work to do.”
Skye huffs, but winks at me before he wheels himself back across the room to work beside Cal.
I’ve just started looking through the first profile, this one of a wolf shifter who’s been arrested by the task force a bunch of times for minor stuff, when Kit tosses a white envelope onto my desk. They go back to sorting through the rest of the mail, grumbling about wasting trees when email was invented decades ago.
I frown at the envelope. It’s thick paper, with a company name on it that I don’t recognise. Deciding I want to open this somewhere private, I grab my mostly empty mug and stand. “Anyone want another brew?”
Three pairs of eyes stare at me blankly.
“Tea. Anyone want one?” Jeez, how long have they lived in this city? Surely they’d have heard that slang by now.
I’m not sure if Cal even eats or drinks human food or beverages, but it seems rude not to include him when I offer. Some vamps do, some don’t.
I get a round of nos from all three, so I take my mug and my suspiciously official-looking letter down the corridor to the small kitchen. I put the kettle on and carefully open the envelope. The letter inside looks just as official, with the company name and an address in the Southern Quarter.
My whole body flushes hot and cold as I read. I have to read it through three times just to make sure I’m understanding all the official-sounding language right. There’s something about an inheritance and how this is my last opportunity to claim it? That can’t be right, can it? Surely if my parents had left me an inheritance, I’d have found out when I turned eighteen, or Qadir would have told me when I was younger. I mean, sure, he died just before I turned sixteen, but someone would have told me.
Maybe Nyoka didn’t know? Lawyers are secretive about this stuff, right? Only giving information to their clients?
I pull my phone out and search the company name, then read their website. From the looks of things, they’re a human organisation. Supe businesses tend to leave little clues that humans would miss but that let the community know they’re a part of it, and this firm has none of the usual markers.
But an inheritance? Human firm or not, wouldn’t they have contacted me before now? Maybe it’s a mistake.
I abandon the kitchen for the conference room, close the door behind me and erect a quick silencing ward. I wouldn’t normally use this room for a personal call, but it’s empty, and I won’t be long.
I have to go through a secretary before I get to a lady named Hillary Blake, who was the name at the bottom of the letter.
“Hillary Blake.”
“Ms. Blake, hi, my name is Ayo Muroyi. I just received a letter from you about an inheritance?”
“Finally!”
Finally? What the fuck?
“Mr Muroyi, could you confirm your date of birth and address for security purposes?”
I give her the information, telling her the address of the coven manor since this letter was addressed there and redirected by Royal Mail.
“Thank you, Mr Muroyi. I can confirm that you are due to receive an inheritance. You’ve contacted me just in time; you are only eligible for this inheritance until your twenty-first birthday, as per the terms of the will of Wema Muroyi.”
So this is from my mum. But then… “Why now? Excuse me, but why is this the first I’m hearing about it?”
“We have sent you several letters over the last three years. According to the system, all have gone unanswered.”
