PUCKHOLD (BL)

“Quick, everyone check around you for any dirt! Mr. Sigma Boss is here!”

"He's quite early today."

"Is there any day he isn't early? Forcing us to leave home early as well, that dickhe—good morning, Vice President."

I roll my eyes as I stride in.

That's brunette girl for you, testing my patience. It's not even up to a month since I transferred here from the headquarters with a new office as VP and I'm already at the edge.

These tardy pigs would rather have my head for it than behave civilized, tsk.

They should keep testing my patience and running that wide mouth like a radio without battery, they'd meet the fate of the three omegas and unlucky beta I fired last week.

I scrunch my nose when I felt a crumpling paper under my feet. "Really? It's barely 8 o'clock and there's already trash on the floor?"

I glare at the brunette girl.

“Me? No, Vice President, it's not mine,” she panicked.

"Do I care to know whose trash it is? Aren't you all a team here? You think y'all are here to just watch players flex their muscles?" I begin to throw a tantrum and I can hear them holding their breaths.

One of the perks of being a sigma—one of the rarest kinds of werewolves—is that I'm basically superman.

An alpha may be able to hear breaths but a sigma does it best. A beta or Omega would never.

Apart from being a loner at thirty four, as a sigma I am a perfectionist. I am a neat freak, I do not need OCD to be one. I carry an aura that even betas lack.

I could walk into a room and majority of the people would think I am an alpha. This is why I am a VP and I could be more. I could be better than an alpha. Fuck alphas! Fine you got me, I hate alphas.

Why do they have to be the apex in the hierarchy of werewolves? So I target all alphas in the room, especially when I am superior to them. Like that brunette!

“Sometimes I wonder if you truly deserve to be an alpha, Bambi.”

"It's Hannah, Vice President and I was born this way. I'm not alpha by choice," she corrected. How infuriating.

"Do I care for your name? No! Well, you should be ashamed of your bloodline because despite the fact that they made you alpha they forgot to remind you that you're a werewolf, not a pig!" Yeah! I love my tongue!

And I love the frown on her face when I smacked that comeback.

The other workers had a look of pity—pity for her. How satisfying.

I roll my eyes. “Hand me the paper.”

One of the workers quickly picked the crumpled paper and placed it in my hand, after straightening it a bit.

I glance at the sheet in my hand to see it is exactly what I printed out and handed to them yesterday.

I made a rule yesterday after catching two shameless workers sneaking into the closet with a hockey player. They had a threesome. Shamelessly. I found out they had been dating the player, both ladies yet they lied the player was having his rut and needed to knot.

Tchh! The player wasn't even an alpha!

Turns out the former VP never set boundaries. If things like these are allowed so often the players reputation along with the company's would be tarnished!

All I did was make a new rule, not a weird one, "FERAL ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIPS WITH PLAYERS ARE

PROHIBITED AND WILL RESULT IN INSTANT

TERMINATION."

Seems like they didn't like my rule.

I fisted the paper. “I dare anyone of you to go against this rule.” I gritted my teeth, glaring particularly at brunette girl.

“The company is already in soup thanks to the former VPs decision to take in a nineteen year old drop out with a stinking behavior, and you think I'd let you all make things worse? No! I'm not risking my career because you can't control yourselves in heat!”

I quickly walk away, striding into my office.

I'm yet to bang the door behind me when I hear an incoming heartbeat. It's a heartbeat I know. It's like a ringing phone to my ears. Every heartbeat having its own ringtones.

“Seems like the president's secretary is on his way.”

I'm all prepared and ready for him when he slipped into my office, closed the door, and took the seat in front of my desk.

I wasn't terrified, no. I was chill.

The president's secretary is a Beta, and I'm really chill around betas because they are chill as well. And also because sigmas are truly bigger and better than betas. Betas are just overrated at this point.

“Good morning, Vice President Singerr.”

I sit up straighter in my chair, leaning forward. “Good morning to you too, Mr. Barry. I'm assuming the president has a message for me?”

Barry nods, straightening his blue suit. Dear sun god, even blue shits are overrated.

“Yes. President Hendrix wishes to hand over a big responsibility of his to you. The chairman personally handed this task to him but the president and his wife are about having a pup and he needs a six month leave."

I frown.

No, I'm happy. Don't get me wrong. President Hendrix of this branch—the headquarters of Rebel Sportsmen Co.—is the right hand man of the CEO of the whole company.

Just so you know, this company has eleven branches all over the world, three here in the US and there are over eleven VPs. But the CEO's right hand man is choosing me out of all other alphas and betas who are VPs too, of course I'm happy and honoured.

But formality demands I frown like I'm too busy to prove myself.

"Why would President Hendrix choose me? I mean, I just got promoted to VP a month ago and transferred here. Does he trust me that much?"

Barry smiled. "President Hendrix barely showed your profile to the chairman and put in a little word for you just as he did for two other VPs, but it was the chairman who chose you himself."

"..."

Becoming noticed by the legendary figure of NHL USA was only a dream a month ago when I was just a director. Being recommended by the chairman himself is a dream come true. A dream I never knew I had, to be honest. Not until now.

I might join the board of presidents if I do well with this task. I would be the only non-alpha sitting in the boardroom of alphas!

I want that position for myself as a sigma, and I want it so bad.

“I will do whatever the chairman wants,” I tell Barry.

Barry's eyes shone. I couldn't tell if he was happy for me or happy I said yes. "Tell me what this task is, Mr. Barry."

“Right,” Barry begins. “There are a few players who need to be developed. It's beyond the coaches and PR. So the chairman has been asking the presidents for help. The fans are complaining particularly about the Rebel Were-Tigers team. The chairman offered to pay triple the president's salary if he could work on it."

Triple? I'm in! Triple the president's salary is four to five times of mine. With that money I can sort out my personal life.

“Rebel Were-Tigers? That's the former VP's team. But no problem, I don't mind. Just give me the name of the pla—”

“Maddox Gordon,” Barry states definitively.

My breath stops. My lips dry up. My left brow twitches.

I swallowed. “Come again?”

Barry takes out a picture from a folder. “Him. Alpha Maddox Gordon. The CEO's nephew. You have to be careful with him and also he's nineteen and a college drop out. All information you need is here. He's hot-headed, hates cats, prefers matcha but doesn't like to see the colour green.......”

The words blur as I stare at the picture of the kid. He's Maddox Gordon. But how? He's the kid from...

My brows twitch continually, and Barry doesn’t miss it. “Is there a problem, Vice President Singerr?”

I shook my head lightly. “Do I have to accept?”

Barry folded his arms. “Well, you already agreed even before I could explain the task to you, so.. yes. You can't go back on your words.”

My stomach drops. I don’t want to work with that kid.

“You will do as you say, Vice President Singerr,” Barry's tone suddenly turns commanding. How dare he? "I must leave now. The chairman will deposit upfront to your account. It's separate from the triple president-standard salary."

Fucking manipulator!

Barry walks towards the door but suddenly stops and turns around to smile at me. "You're going to be the first non-alpha to dine with alphas. Even though we are not sigmas, we the betas and omegas are rooting for you."

What the fuck was that?

I look down at the table after Barry leaves and my eyes find the yellow eyes on my table.

Those eyes were burning into me.

Or maybe it's just guilt clawing at me because I broke my new rule of no feral romantic relationship with players.

I let a player fuck me good.