Chapter 53

Agnes

I stepped into Elijah’s office, and was immediately hit with the familiar scent of his cologne. He was sitting at his desk, flipping through a stack of papers. His head lifted when the door clicked shut behind me, and his eyes found mine instantly.

“You called?” I asked.

He gestured toward the chair across from his desk. “Sit.”

I hesitated for half a moment before doing as he said. There was something about him that commanded attention. Respect, even. I hated that it still made me feel slightly off-kilter; I was his wife, and we were equals, and yet my heart couldn’t help but race a little when he was all-business like this.

“I wanted to talk about your next Luna task,” he began, leaning back in his chair. “It’s an important one.”

“Alright,” I said slowly, folding my hands in my lap. “What’s the task?”

“You’re officially taking over the design department. As of today, it’s yours.”

I blinked at him, unsure whether I had just heard correctly. “Wait… mine? As in, the whole department?”

“Yes,” he said simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Your last project was such a success that sales are up, morale is high, and the pack’s confidence in our leadership is stronger than it’s been in years. You’ve proven yourself more than capable, Agnes. I trust you to lead.”

For a moment, all I could do was stare at him. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Say you’ll do it,” he said with a one-shouldered shrug. “And do it well.”

A small smile tugged at the corners of my lips despite the way my pulse was racing—both in response to the offer and the handsome yet businesslike way he met my gaze. “Of course I’ll do it,” I said. “Thank you… for trusting me.”

“I told you,” he said matter-of-factly. “We’re partners. Equals. I trust you wholeheartedly.”

Something about the way he said it, the sincerity in his voice, made me let out a breath I hadn’t even realized I was holding. Regardless of the confusing feelings surrounding our relationship, we were still a team. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever felt so… equal to anyone in my life.

The design department was buzzing with activity when I arrived. Desks were cluttered with papers and sketchpads, employees murmuring quietly as they worked. Melinda, the old manager, was nowhere to be found. Someone said she was taking a call in her office, so I didn’t bother her.

As I settled in, I took some time to look around and refamiliarize myself with the space—my space.

But it didn’t take long for me to notice the flaws—the dim lighting, the cramped layout, the distinct lack of energy in a department that should have been the creative heart of the building.

I rolled up my sleeves, ready to get to work. If this was going to be my department, then it needed to feel like mine.

The first thing I did was start rearranging tables. I grabbed one at the edge of the room and dragged it toward the center, the loud scrape of the legs against the tiles drawing the attention of everyone in the room. Heads turned, and conversations died mid-sentence.

“What are you doing?” came a sharp voice behind me.

I turned to see Melinda glaring at me from her office doorway, her arms crossed and her mouth set in a thin line.

“This space isn’t conducive to group work,” I said without stopping. “I’m rearranging.”

Her scoff was loud enough to echo through the room. “Rearranging? You’ve been here for five minutes, and you’re already—”

“She’s helping,” another voice cut in. One of the younger employees stood, grabbing the other end of the table I was moving. “Honestly, this space has needed a revamp for a while.”

Melinda’s glare turned icy, but I ignored her. As the minutes passed, more employees began to join in, offering suggestions or lending a hand.

“This corner could use a communal seating area,” someone suggested.

“Yeah, and maybe some better lighting? These fluorescents give me migraines every day. It’s awful.”

“Don’t even get me started on the coffee machine,” another chimed in. “It’s been broken for months! I don’t want to traipse halfway across the building to the marketing department just to refill my cup.”

As more and more employees chimed in, I pulled out my notebook and started jotting down their ideas, compiling a list of small changes that could make a big difference. New cushions for the chairs. A couple of potted plants to liven up the space. Lamps to soften the lighting. And, of course, a new coffee machine.

When I finished the list, I tallied up the estimated costs. It wasn’t an astronomical amount, but it was enough to make me pause. I could already hear Melinda’s objections before she even opened her mouth.

“This is a waste of time and money,” she said, predictably. “We don’t need plants and cushions. We need results.”

I smiled at her, keeping my expression calm and poised as if she were just another annoying customer at the diner. “A more inviting workspace leads to better morale, and better morale leads to better results.”

Melinda snorted. “Spoken like someone who doesn’t understand how profits work.”

I didn’t bother arguing with her. Instead, I grabbed my notebook and headed straight for Elijah’s office. Melinda followed me, muttering under her breath the entire way.

When we arrived, Elijah looked up from his desk, his gaze flicking between the two of us. “Agnes. Melinda. What brings you here?”

“I have a proposal,” I said, holding up the list. “It’s a breakdown of some improvements I’d like to make to the design department—small things to make the space more comfortable for the employees.”

Elijah took my notebook from my hand, scanning it quickly. Melinda hovered behind me, her arms crossed and her lips pursed, no doubt waiting for him to reject me and make a fool out of me.

After a moment, Elijah handed me my notebook. “Order everything.”

Melinda scoffed before she could stop herself. “You can’t be serious,” she said, her face turning red. “This is a frivolous expense. We should be focusing on—”

“Oh, Melinda, I’m actually glad you’re here,” Elijah interrupted, slowly looking over at her with a fiery glare that could melt the permafrost. “I was going to schedule a meeting with you.”

She froze, her face paling a little. “A… meeting?”

Elijah nodded, reached into his desk, and pulled out a manila folder. He handed it to her with the utmost calm. “You’ve been slipping in your work for months. I’ve seen the reports. I’ve also seen the screenshots of you online shopping during work hours.”

Melinda’s mouth fell open as she flipped through the folder containing evidence of her misdeeds. I just stood there, clutching my notebook to my chest in shock. Had she even been on a work call earlier, or was she just avoiding work in her office?

“I’m reassigning you to the mail department,” Elijah continued, unyielding as ever. “Effective immediately.”

“The mailroom?!” she sputtered, her voice rising again. “You can’t—”

“I can,” he said firmly. “And I will. You’ve spent too long believing your position is untouchable. Maybe this will serve as a reminder that I’m the Alpha, and I can move or fire anyone I see fit. Consider it a warning. One more slip-up, and you will be searching for work elsewhere.”

Melinda’s face was now an alarming shade of red, her lips quivering as she struggled for a response. But there was nothing she could say. Her Alpha’s decision was final, and if I knew one thing about Elijah, it was that he never budged once he’d made up his mind.

I held my chin high, suppressing the urge to smile as I turned and walked out of the office. Behind me, I could hear Melinda’s sobbing begin, but I didn’t look back at her.

I had work to do.