Enchanted by the Alpha: A Billionaire's Werewolf Romance

Amira POV

It's truly ironic. As a teenager, I hacked into this very company and boldly displayed a virtual victory message to its founder and CEO. Fast forward nine years, and I'm here interviewing for a position. And not just any role-a role in Information Security. Yes, if I'm hired, I'll be tasked with defending the company from hackers like "Techgirl"-the alias I once used.

So here I am, sitting in the grand lobby of Qualcomm's international headquarters, wondering if they might recognize me and show me the door in handcuffs.

Groups of employees stroll past, laughing and chatting, looking more like they're headed to a resort than a nine-to-five job. I want this position-badly.

This morning, I changed outfits countless times, though I'm usually indifferent about my attire. But this is the opportunity of a lifetime, and I was meticulous about every detail. Ultimately, I went with a sleek black suit-a fitted jacket and a short, tailored skirt. I decided against stockings, opting for bare legs and a pair of heels. Underneath, I wore my favorite "Techgirl" T-shirt, snug and featuring a bold pink bat symbol perfectly placed between the lapels.

The outfit says "young, innovative IT professional" with a nod to corporate style. After much debate between heels and sneakers, I chose the heels. Though in hindsight, that might make walking with my contact, Sam, a bit of a challenge.

Looking back, my teenage hacker self would probably laugh and call me a sellout. But even back then, I was captivated by Qualcomm's founder, Ermes Sylvester. What started as a fascination has evolved into respect-and yes, a bit of admiration.

Alright, maybe it's a crush. But Ermes is undoubtedly impressive: a billionaire, a philanthropist, and-especially for a tech genius-remarkably attractive.

That one encounter when I breached all his security measures and came face-to-face with him-cursor to cursor-still stands out as one of my most memorable moments. I didn't take anything; I simply wanted to test myself against his security genius. I left quickly when he discovered me and never tried again.

Now, I might actually get another chance to test my skills against Sylvester's system-and this time, it would all be entirely above board.

"Ms. Williams?"

I quickly stand, extending my hand with only a slight wobble in my heels. "Hi," I manage, perhaps sounding a bit too breathless. Regaining my composure, I smile and firmly shake the offered hand.

"Hello, I'm Sam Williams, Qualcomm's InfoSec manager." Sam has a quintessentially "tech" look: glasses, collared shirt, slacks, probably in his thirties. I notice a quick glance at the pink logo on my shirt before he looks away, and I briefly wonder if the shirt was a questionable choice.

I hold his hand a moment too long, trying to recall Interviewing for Dummies' advice on the ideal handshake duration. "It's nice to meet you," I say, finally releasing his hand.

Fortunately, Sam seems just as awkward as I am. His gaze keeps shifting downward-not as if he's being inappropriate, but as if making eye contact might be uncomfortable. "Please follow me; we'll head up to the sixth floor for the interview."

Qualcomm's facility is impressively secure, both digitally and physically. After checking in at the marble reception area, I was instructed to wait in the lobby until an "escort" could guide me to my interview.

As I follow Sam, I make a quick attempt at small talk. "You have a beautiful building here."

Alright, that was a bit stilted. I'm no good at small talk. Maybe spending the last eight years largely avoiding social interactions wasn't the best idea. IT candidates shouldn't have to do interviews-they should just take a test or hack something. But, from what the recruiter said, Qualcomm is already familiar with my technical abilities. I thought the initial call was a prank from my old online friends in the Clean Clan, but it turned out to be the real deal.

Not that anyone from my old life could find me now-or so I hope.

Sam leads me to the elevator and presses the up button. When the doors open, a tall, broad-shouldered man in an elegant suit is inside, focused on his phone. He shifts to make space without looking up.

Sam lets me step in first, and I steady myself, telling myself it's just a standard elevator ride. Still, if I get the job, I might learn where the stairwells are.

I focus on the panel of buttons, hoping the ride is brief. Just then, someone calls Sam's name. "One second," he says, stepping back as a young woman rushes over, followed by a couple of colleagues. "Sam, the Galileo server shut down this morning..."

Perfect-extra elevator time. I take a slow breath, willing myself to stay calm. A panic attack is not the first impression I want to leave.

Sam steps back from the elevator as the woman shows him something on her laptop. The doors close, and the elevator begins to move.

I press the button for the sixth floor. I know exactly where I'm headed.

The sooner I'm out of this confined box, the better.

Halfway up, the lights flicker-once, twice-and then go out.

"What the..." My voice trails off as I try to steady my breathing. I've got maybe ten seconds before I lose my composure. Next to me, the man in the suit mutters something under his breath, and a faint blue glow from his phone casts shadows on the elevator walls. Suddenly, the elevator grinds to a halt.

Not good. My heart pounds, and my breathing quickens.

Stay calm, I tell myself. This is temporary. The elevator will start moving again in a second. I'm not actually trapped. But my body isn't buying it-my stomach tightens, skin grows clammy, and everything dims. Either the man has dimmed the phone light, or my vision is starting to blur. I sway, unsteady.

The man mutters, "No reception in here."

My heel slips, and I grip the handrail, breath coming in shallow gasps.

"Hey," he says, his voice deep and resonant, matching his imposing size. In another situation, it might have sounded attractive. "Are you freaking out?" There's a hint of annoyance in his tone.

Yeah, thanks. "Yes." The word barely escapes, and I tighten my grip on the rail. Stay standing. Don't faint-especially not now.

"I don't like small spaces," I add, vastly understating the situation.

Did the elevator just shift? Or is that my own balance slipping? Old fears bubble up. What if this is it? What if I'm stuck here for good?

Then, two large hands gently push me back against the elevator wall, pressing firmly on my chest. "Wh-what are you doing?" I gasp.

"Engaging your calm reflex," he says, composed, as if this is routine. "Is it helping?"

"Yeah. Nothing like a stranger holding me up against a wall to calm my nerves," I say, my sarcasm slipping out despite my efforts to stay professional.

"I'm not groping you," he replies.

"That's what they all say," I mutter.

He lets out a short chuckle that stops as quickly as it started, almost as if he hadn't meant to laugh.

Who is this man?

My heart rate begins to settle, though my head still spins. I've never had anyone stand this close, let alone touch me like this. A few inches in another direction, and he'd be much closer. I feel sensations I haven't felt outside the privacy of my own thoughts.