Agnes

I could feel Ava’s smirk burning into the side of my face as I plugged in my flash drive and set up the PowerPoint. She was seated directly across from me, arms folded, a glint of smug satisfaction in her eyes.

She probably thought I was going to crash and burn. Well, she could think whatever she wanted, but she was wrong. Just like she’d been wrong during the Mate Trial.

Taking a deep breath, I clicked to the first slide of my presentation and turned to face the room. A few department heads shuffled in their seats, and Mr. Reynolds adjusted his glasses, already looking thoroughly unconvinced even though the presentation hadn’t begun yet.

“Good afternoon,” I began. “Thank you for giving me the opportunity to present my proposal.”

Elijah sat at the head of the table, his expression unreadable. His gaze met mine briefly, offering no clues. I pushed down the flutter of nerves in my stomach and clicked to the next slide.

“As we all know, the current proposal suggests raising tariffs on imported basic necessities to increase revenue,” I continued. “However, I believe there is a much better approach. One that would increase revenue without harming the working class.”

I clicked to the next slide. “I propose we implement selective tariff increases on luxury products,” I said.

A ripple of dissatisfaction made its way through the room. Ava’s smirk widened, and Mr. Reynolds started to speak. But everyone fell quiet when Elijah held up his hand to stop them.

“Continue, Agnes,” Elijah said.

I swallowed the sudden lump in my throat and went on. “The items affected by tariffs would include designer purses, colognes, high-end electronics, and more,” I said, pointing to the list on the screen. “These are items that are not basic necessities. Raising tariffs on these goods will not significantly impact the majority of our pack members, who are not purchasing them regularly.”

Mr. Reynolds cleared his throat. “If I may…”

Elijah lifted his eyebrows at me, as if silently asking me if I approved of Mr. Reynolds speaking, but I nodded. “Yes, Mr. Reynolds?”

The man cleared his throat. “Luxury items don’t make up a substantial portion of imports. The revenue generated might be negligible.”

I met his gaze. “Actually, while luxury items represent a smaller volume, their higher price points mean that even a slight increase in tariffs can yield significant revenue. Plus, the demand for these items is relatively inelastic among those who can afford them. Raising prices would not deter most consumers of these items, as they have the funds to afford the price hikes.”

Mr. Reynolds looked like he’d gone pale, but Elijah just nodded along with me. “Well-put, Agnes. Go on.”

I clicked to the next slide, showing a graph of essential goods prices over time. “On the other hand, raising tariffs on basic necessities like baby food and diapers disproportionately affects lower-income families. These products often face rising prices because foreign companies hold monopolies and can easily pass on the cost to consumers.”

Ava shifted in her seat, her expression darkening. Good, I thought to myself. I hoped she’d start squirming, realizing that she was—and had always been—wrong about me.

“Silvermoon has the capacity to produce these essential goods locally,” I continued. “But the materials needed—like cotton for diapers—are expensive to import due to high tariffs.”

“So what’s your solution?” Elijah asked.

“I suggest we selectively lower tariffs on essential raw materials and offer subsidies to local businesses that are willing to produce these goods. For example, reducing tariffs on imported cotton and providing financial incentives for companies to manufacture diapers here.”

Mr. Reynolds scoffed lightly. “Subsidies? That could strain our budget even further.”

I nodded. “In the short term, yes. But in the long run, it would create jobs, stimulate local industry, and reduce our reliance on imports. We could even become exporters ourselves down the line, which would boost the economy significantly. Anyone with the most basic education should be able to understand that, Mr. Reynolds.”

Mr. Reynold’s face went red. Around the table, I heard a few scattered chuckles at my quip. Even Elijah seemed to be hiding a tiny smirk behind his hand.

But then Ava suddenly blurted out smugly, “Do you have projections to support this?”

I knew she would ask that—trying to trip me up. But I had come prepared.

Nodding, I clicked to the final slide, displaying charts and figures I’d compiled. “Yes. Based on current import data and potential production capacities, we can see a positive shift within two years.”

Ava rolled her eyes. “This is all theoretical.”

I shot her a sharp look. “Every policy starts as a theory until it’s implemented.”

She opened her mouth to retort, but Elijah held up a hand. “Enough, Ava.”

He rose from his seat, his eyes scanning the data before turning to me. “Thank you, Agnes. You’ve given us a lot to consider.”

I swallowed, unsure of what that meant. “Of course.”

He turned to his Beta, who stood quietly by the door. “Schedule a meeting with the economic advisory team. I want to start working on implementing these suggestions immediately.”

My eyes widened. “Wait, you mean—”

Elijah looked at me. “You raised valid points. There is merit in your proposal.”

Ava’s face went pale, her smirk completely vanished. Mr. Reynolds looked like he’d bitten into a lemon.

“Meeting adjourned,” Elijah announced, gathering his papers without so much as casting either of them a glance.

As the others filed out, I gathered my things, my mind racing. I couldn’t believe it. He’d actually listened.

Walking beside Elijah down the corridor, I glanced up at him. “I have to admit, I’m surprised.”

“About what?” he asked, not breaking stride.

“That you approved my idea so quickly,” I said. “I thought there would be more... opposition.”

He shrugged slightly. “You presented a well-thought-out plan. It aligns with the pack’s long-term interests.”

“But still,” I pressed, “you didn’t even question it.”

He stopped then, turning to face me. “Should I have?”

I hesitated. “Most leaders would have. I don’t know much of anything about economics.”

Elijah’s gaze softened, but just by a fraction. “Agnes, you brought up points that even I hadn’t fully considered. And you’re my Luna.”

I felt a blush creep up my neck. “What does being your Luna have to do with it?”

“If I don’t listen to my Luna’s advice when it’s sound, how could I consider myself a good Alpha?”

I stared at him, words escaping me for a moment. The way he said it was so matter-of-fact, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

But truthfully, no one had ever had enough respect for me to listen to my advice so quickly. Not even my own family had that level of respect for me. The way they had labeled me as crazy when I had searched for my missing daughter was a prime example of that.

And yet, here was the stern and cold Alpha of Silvermoon, handing me his utmost respect like I was born with it. I didn’t know how to respond to that.

“Well,” I finally managed, “thank you for giving me a chance.”

He nodded, turning back toward the exit. “You earned it.”

We stepped out into the late afternoon sun, the warm light casting long shadows across the driveway. The car was waiting, engine humming softly. Elijah walked ahead, opening the passenger door for me.

Our eyes met, and for a moment, the world seemed to slow. The way the light caught his hair, the color of his eyes in the setting sun…

I really did wonder if we had met once before. Just once, seven years ago. One night of passion, before—

“Are you getting in or not?” he asked, holding the door open a little wider.