#CHAPTER 63: A Gentlemen’s Conversation

Zane POV I had been in the smoking room at the Rotary Club before and been asked to admire its hunter-green walls, leather furnishings, and original Pierre Testu and Paul Rubens. I had been offered, and refused, fine cigars and been offered, and accepted, the world’s finest scotch, and I had sat in one of the leather armchairs and contemplated my life and my role as pack alpha. The room was an old friend, as was Rob Shanton. So why was I so uneasy? Why did I turn down the scotch this time and insist I wanted him to get to the point of this meeting so I could go back to the room, Sarah, and my children? Why did I suddenly want to punch the wolf in the face? Well, I could answer that last question. Rob was sitting in the armchair across a small table from me, enjoying two fingers of thirty-year-old Macallan and looking incredibly smug. He seemed to be waiting for something, some cue that he could begin his latest performance. “Rob, really, I need to get back to my girls,” I fin