Chapter 7— The Atria Pack.
Doyle's POV:
"What happened?" I ask Isaac in a calm, eerie tone, looking pointedly at him.
He redirects his eyes, which are filled with guilt and shame, to the other side of the room.
"Sir w-we-"
My anger boils at the way he stutters. I hate it when people stutter; I only like it on Deven; she makes it seem intoxicating, but the people I call 'workers' make it seem infuriating.
I drop my head into my hands which are being supported by arms resting on my desk. I take a deep breath to subdue my rage.
"Isaac, you know I hate it when people stutter. Now tell me, what the heck happened?" I grudgingly question, rubbing my hands together to ease the urge to raise my voice at him.
Even though I'm the boss of a well-known company, I'm also the leader, and as my workers' leader, I can't be a man with no control over my anger; coercing them into a job where they feel uncomfortable, or they feel scared to approach me.
Not only am I their leader, but I'm also their Alpha. Yes, as an Alpha, I'm dominant; I take responsibility and accountability for whatever happens around here; I'm demanding because I expect the better of my pack, but I also protect them and save them from any inconveniences. I'm not alpha to be controlling, I'm alpha to keep my family together.
He clears his throat and straightens up.
"Some wolves were spotted around the outskirts of our land yesterday; we're not sure if it was the Atria pack and the documents for the business deal, we signed with the president of the innovation establishment are lost," he sheepishly says.
I feel the heat of anger flare inside me as I grind my jaws.
"Tell me you made a copy of the documents?" I plea in frustration.
He hesitantly shakes his head 'no.'
I close my eyes and wince internally as I exhale out all the annoyance, he's making me feel.
I look at him with rage evident in my eyes.
"Call up a search party of ten and have them explore the entire building in search of those documents. When you're done with that, come meet me at the front desk," I demand.
"Look man, I'm sorry," he apologizes.
Isaac is one of my best pals. He's the beta of the pack. He's reliable and responsible, at least responsible to a certain point.
What he just confessed is proof.
I get up and walk toward him, digging my hands into my pocket as I stop in front of him.
"You're not a scatterbrain. In fact, of all three of us, you're the one who has their cards together, after me that is, so I don't know what happened, but you need to restack your cards," I advise him before walking out.
"Claire," I call out to her as I walk toward her.
She looks up at me, putting aside whatever work she was focusing on.
"Sir?" she responds.
"Call the president of the innovation establishment and set up a meeting for this Thursday," I instruct her.
"Do I have any events set for Friday?" I ask her.
"Let me check," she says.
I hear footsteps coming from behind, so I turn around and see Isaac walking toward me.
"I did as you asked. A search party is already on the go," he informs me.
I nod in acknowledgment.
"Sir?" I hear Claire call for me.
"Hmm," I turn my head in her direction.
"You have nothing scheduled for Friday," she says.
"Ok. Could you hold off on scheduling that meeting now until the missing document is found? If they're not found today, then you can put call him tomorrow," I tell her.
"Yes sir," she nods once.
I walk out the door of the building as Isaac follows suit.
"So...," he drags out as we settle into the car, "where are we going?"
"We're going to check out the suspicious action happening on the outskirts of our land," I tell him.
"I can't afford to have anything happen to my pack," I add.
I see him nod from my peripheral.
"Look, Doyle. I'm really sorry for"
"It's okay Isaac. Everyone has their bad days. Just make sure this doesn't repeat itself or if you have an absolutely horrible day, you don't have to tell me what happened just inform me that you have a bad one," I tell him.
"Thanks, Doyle," he appreciates.
"Sure, man," I reassure.
He chuckles lightly.
I take a glance at him.
"What?" I question. A confused grin forms on my face.
"I just find it funny that most people fear 'the great Doyle Adams' when in reality you're a softy with a mean scowl and a scar that makes you look tough," he laughs out loud.
Does he think I'm a softy? I'll remind him who the softy is.
"Remember who gave you that scar on your back," I recall to him and that's enough to shut him off.
"We promised never to bring that up," he groans, dropping his head into his hands.
"Just wanted to let you know who the 'softy' is," I say.
"Besides, the only person I'm soft for is-"
"Deven. I know. Who could forget the name of the girl that captured my man's heart? Huh, honey?" he states, wiggling his eyebrows at me.
"You're stupid," I chuckle softly.
"We're here," I inform him, and the playful aura in the car disintegrates.
We get down from the car and take some clothes for both of us from my car trunk and set it behind a tree.
"Ready?" I whisper to him.
"Ready," he whispers back.
We both know the danger we incur upon ourselves as we do this, but it's for the good of the pack.
After walking around the land, we discover nothing to prove it was the Atria pack, but we do find blood marks on the trees.
This isn't good. Why are there blood marks on the trees?
"We need higher security measures put around this. The blood marks don't seem promising," Isaac indicates as we put on our clothes.
"Yep. I'm gonna have to get at least ten to fifteen wolves parole this place every day," I put forth as we walk back to the car.
My phone begins to ring once we get into the car.
"Hello?" I speak.
"Doyle," Lucas says my name in an alert tone.
He sounds scared. The panicked rush in his voice strikes another chord of fear in me; the fear that something has happened to Deven.
I sit up straight, transferring my phone to my left hand as I turn on the ignition.
"It's Deven-"
Hearing her name come out of his mouth after sounding so panicked, circulates fear through me like a disease; It makes me feel like a mallet has carved out my heart.
No. No. No.
I hang up and put on my seat belt hurriedly.
"Put on your seat belt Isaac," I anxiously say.
My heart beats. It beats in fear that something may have happened to my Deven.
Please be alright Deven.
"Doyle, is everything okay?" Isaac questions.
I shake my head 'no.'
"No. It's Deven. Something's wrong with her," I inform him while driving speedily toward my house which thankfully isn't far from our current position.
Please be alright Bellus mea.