“Absolutely not. Valeria, you’re my daughter and a sworn officer. I need to know exactly where you are…”
The line went dead.
Valeria spun to find Dom with his hand on the communication controls. Fury exploded in her chest.
“What the hell did you just do?”
“Trace attempts on that call,” the quiet man said urgently, not looking at her. “Had to cut the connection.”
But Valeria’s attention remained fixed on Dom, and she vibrated with outrage.
“You cut off my conversation with my father!”
“To protect all of us,” Dom said, his voice carrying alpha command. “Your father will understand when we solve this case.”
Chapter
Twenty
Valeria staredat the dead headset in her hand. Dom’s pack exchanged uncomfortable glances, clearly uncertain how to handle a furious police officer who’d just been cut off from her father.
“You had no right,” Valeria said, her voice dangerously quiet.
“We had thirty seconds before they traced that call,” Axel said from behind his monitors. “Had to cut the connection.”
“I don’t care,” she snapped. “That was my father. He thought I was dead, and you just…”
“Prevented all of us from being found and arrested,” Dom finished, his alpha authority flaring despite his sympathy for her position.
Siren cleared her throat meaningfully. “Perhaps this conversation would be better conducted privately.”
The suggestion brought him back to earth. His pack was loyal, but they didn’t need to witness this fallout with his new mate.
“Upstairs,” Dom said, gesturing toward the door to the staircase. “We’ll continue this in my apartment.”
Valeria looked like she wanted to argue, but the presence of five observers made her reconsider. She stalked toward the door with a rigid posture, every line of her body radiating barely controlled fury.
Dom followed her up the narrow staircase. His pack would draw their own conclusions about what happened next, but at least they’d have the privacy to work through this without an audience.
When he unlocked the door to his apartment and gestured for her to go inside, Valeria entered as if she was walking into enemy territory. The space was simply furnished but comfortable. A leather couch faced a small television. A kitchen occupied one corner. The bedroom was visible through an open doorway, the bed neatly made.
“This is where you live?” Valeria asked, some of her anger giving way to curiosity as she took in his personal space.
“Home sweet home,” Dom said. The click of the door closing seemed to echo in the sudden quiet.
Now they were alone, away from his pack’s scrutiny, with nowhere to go and nothing to distract from the tension crackling between them. Valeria resumed her pacing, her movements sharp with frustrated energy.
Dom studied her. The confrontation downstairs had awakened a fire in her that made his wolf sit up and take notice. She’d challenged him in front of his pack, demanded to be heard, refused to be managed. The defiance should have irritated him. Instead, it sent heat straight to his groin.
She stopped pacing abruptly and took a deep breath, her shoulders dropping slightly. “Your place is nice,” she said, the words coming out stilted, like she was trying to remember how normal conversation worked.
“Can I get you something?” Dom asked, moving toward the kitchen. “Water? Something stronger?”
“I need to think.” She pressed her palms against her temples. “Everything’s happening too fast. My father, the assassins, this whole...” She gestured vaguely between them.
“I know.” He kept his voice neutral, giving her space to process.
“I need a shower,” she announced, walking into his bedroom. She started tearing through his drawers, looking for clean clothes.
