Lone Wolf Tech's office was a whirlwind—people hustling, phones chirping, coffee steaming up the air. Ethan Nicolas, 28, stood by the window, arms crossed, a grin lighting up his face. He was jaw-droppingly handsome—dark hair swept over piercing green eyes, a chiseled jaw that made heads turn, and a smile that could charm a brick wall. He ran this place, and he looked the part.
The day was young, but Ethan was already plotting. He'd slipped a sneaky text into the mix yesterday, something to stir up trouble between two coworkers. He didn't let it show yet—just watched the office hum, waiting for the chaos to kick in. Being a playboy was his style, and breaking love was his quiet thrill.
Ava Francis pushed through the door—new girl, first day. Her dark hair was a wild mess, freckles dotted her nose, and she carried a laid-back vibe, like she'd strolled in from a beach. She stopped short, spotting Ethan. His looks hit her like a wave—too perfect, almost fake. She blinked it off and dropped her bag on a desk.
"You in charge here?" she asked, kicking her feet up.
Ethan turned, flashing that dazzling smile. "Ethan Nicolas, yeah. You're late, Francis."
"Ava," she said, unfazed. "Traffic was a mess. Cool office—loud."
He walked over, green eyes glinting. "My kingdom. You'll keep up or you're out."
She grinned, grabbing a marker. "I'll keep up. What's the gig?"
"WolfSnap designs—done by noon," he said, "or don't bother sticking around."
"Give me an hour," she shot back, chill as ever. "You'll love it."
WolfSnap was Ethan's baby—a social media app with a hidden edge. It picked up odd signals, tied to his werewolf blood, a secret he guarded close. His parents, Tom and Linda, had no idea—last summer, he'd nearly shredded their porch swing during a full moon. Ava got to work, her designs popping with color. Ethan glanced over—good stuff, but he kept it to himself. She didn't need to know him yet.
A girl from accounting, Claire, swung by, smiling shyly. "Ethan, lunch later?" she asked, caught by his looks. He winked. "We'll see, Claire." His phone buzzed—a text from Tara in design: "Drinks tonight?" He typed back, "You bet." Two plans, one day—his game was smooth. Ava didn't notice, just saw Claire linger and Ethan's easy charm. She tilted her head, curious, but let it slide.
Jake Russo, Ethan's right-hand guy, strolled up, chuckling. "New girl's got guts, man. Don't break her."
"Shut it," Ethan said, smirking. Ava wasn't like Claire or Tara—no starry eyes, just a steady look. His phone rang—his dad, Tom. "Ethan, swing by soon," he said, gruff. "Mom's got a roast planned." Linda chimed in, "My handsome boy!" Ethan muttered, "Sure," and cut it off. Full moon was creeping up—he'd have to dodge that mess.
Ava glanced over, marker in hand. "You spaced out. Big plans?"
Ethan grinned. "Just ruling the world. Welcome aboard, Ava."
"Cool," she said, nodding. She didn't see his tricks yet—the playboy moves, the love-wrecking kicks. Ethan checked WolfSnap on his phone—a strange hum buzzed through, low and rough, like a growl. His fingers tingled, a flicker of claws beneath his handsome hands. He clenched them quick, hiding it. Ava kept sketching, oblivious, but Ethan felt it—something wild was stirring, and it wasn't just his charm.
To be continued.....