Chapter 2 The Crescent Garden
The room fell silent as they slowly observed the stripper boy.
"He's got nerves," the first woman narrowed her eyes in interest.
Adrian felt scrutinized, but he refused to cower from their gaze. Ten thousand dollars for one night was worth any risk.
The man stood, tall and scrutinizing.
"You? A human boy? Do it?" The man asked slowly, his eyes scanning Adrian from hair to toes.
Adrian nodded, "I'm a masseur. Top one in Glint & Co Hotels. Best there is," he pitched himself confidently.
The man slowly circled him, his heart beating low and steady. Vampires and wolves were good at detecting when a person's pulse spiked; to keep his confidence going, he forced himself to relax.
"You don't know the consequences of not living up to your words–"
"That would be my problem. Right now, you're desperate and I am the only solution to your problem," Adrian stated calmly.
"I think he's got this," the second woman nodded.
The man chuckled, "Crescent Garden villa. Ask for the boss," the man pulled out a pen and a note from his pocket.
Adrian watched him write down the address and tear it off the note.
"This is it. My number, too. Give me a call after the job is done... you only get paid if my client is satisfied," he handed it to Adrian.
Adrian took it, staring at it and feeling that slow spirit of danger within him.
"Second thoughts?" The man asked.
"No." Adrian lifted his head confidently, "I'll call you."
With that, he turned and grabbed his backpack off the stage, and left the VIP lounge.
"Hey, Adrian, heading off early?" Jax asked as he saw Adrian rushing through the dressing room.
"Yeah, got a dry shirt?" He asked, looking around the room.
"Yeah... over there," Jax pointed to the chair beside the table.
"Awesome. See you later, got a gig," Adrian pulled the shirt on and waved to his best friend as he rushed out of the room.
Thankfully, the rain had stopped; cars were sparsely driving by.
He hailed one down and gave him the address.
"You sure this is where your going, boy?" The old man asked, looking reluctant.
"Are you going or not?" He frowned.
"I'll do my job," the old man nodded and drove off in the cab.
The cab slowed as they left the last stretch of city lights behind. Tall iron gates rose ahead, black and sharp against the night, with the words "Crescent Garden" worked into the metal in clean, modern lettering.
Beyond them, the driveway curved upward through perfectly trimmed hedges and soft landscape lighting.
The mansion itself came into view slowly.
It was not the old-world gothic pile Adrian had half-expected. Instead, it was all sharp lines and dark glass — a sprawling modern structure of charcoal stone, steel, and floor-to-ceiling windows that reflected the night sky like black mirrors.
Soft warm light glowed from deep inside, but the exterior felt cold, controlled, and watchful. No unnecessary decoration. No softness. Just power rendered in architecture.
The driver stopped a short distance from the front steps and glanced at Adrian in the rearview mirror.
"You sure about this, kid?"
Adrian didn't answer. He simply paid the man, stepped out, and shut the door. The cab's taillights disappeared down the long driveway, leaving him alone in the quiet.
The air here felt heavier. Cleaner. Almost too still.
He adjusted the strap of his backpack, squared his shoulders, and started walking toward the wide double doors of the Crescent Garden villa.
He knocked once, the sound echoing into the quiet night.
The door slowly opened and he was met by a pair of brown eyes that turned golden the moment they landed on him.
Wolves!
'Oh no...' he gulped, his hands clutching the strap of his backpack.
He can't turn back now, not when he was this close to getting his $10k.
"You shouldn't be here," the handsome young man said.
Adrian cleared his throat, "Um..." he reached into his pocket and pulled the note the man from the club had given him.
"He sent me here to massage the boss. His number is right here," he said, holding the bit out in front of the taller man.
"Dr. Volsk," the man said, narrowing his eyes the slightest.
Adrian nodded, only realizing now that the vampire man was a doctor. "Yes... Dr. Volsk."
"Follow me," the young man said and turned away.
Adrian hesitated for a second, glancing at the closed gates behind him.
If not for his sick sister, he would have abandoned this mission the moment he saw the man at the door. His hatred for werewolves was out of this world, and now, he had to work for one.
Swallowing his rage, he stepped through the door and into the large, dark-walled hallway. The dark, polished tiles mirrored his figure as he walked.
He followed the man toward the foyer and toward the double spiraling staircase.
"Go right up. The left hallway, first door," the man instructed.
Adrian nodded.
He did not let himself think as he climbed the marble stairs, determined to get this job done and over with.
Left hallway, first door.
He stood in front of the silver door, and without a thought, he pushed it open, stepping through the door before he convinced himself to make a run for it.
However, the moment he stepped inside the room, he immediately wished he had made a run for it at the gates.
Right in front of the floor-to-ceiling window stood the one man behind his trauma and pain, clad in a black silk robe.
It was no other person than Donovan.
Alpha King Donovan of the Sharp Fang pack… the very pack that had burned his father alive.
'Oh, no!'
Slowly, Donovan turned away from the window.
The moment those deep emerald-green eyes landed on Adrian, a scowl marked his handsome face.
"A human?" he sneered in disgust, his eyes glowing a deep, vibrant green.
