Coldsnap: The Billionaire Alpha's Fated Pregnant Princess (GL)-Chapter 363 - Mnemonic For Your ABCs: Captured

The message had come through the agency late yesterday afternoon and passed along by Anise. An urgent booking with premium rates. Something about a last-minute campaign for their sustainable clothing brand.

Of course, the concerning part was that they were supposedly renting studio space... in the Lunarizon building. Confirming that this was actually valid by glancing at their corporate website and the list of semi-permanent business leases they had contracted currently, I shrugged my shoulders.

I could have been suspicious from the start. But the Task hadn’t forced me to pick this offer, my own idea of completing it in *this* city on this day before making may way to the den I was preparing... had been responsible.

"You’re sure this is legitimate?"

Even still, I asked this of a photographer named Natalie who I’d met waiting outside. Also called in last minute for this booking - or so she said, but I was inclined to believe it because of her nervousness and a lack of any warning feeling from her proximity.

"The money’s triple the usual rate, actually. Could easily be a scam. But Ashen Threads has been getting a lot of attention lately."

That should have been my second warning. A canceled model and excessive pay happening as a reason for a rush hire two out of three for my bookings? Even before this short modeling career, I’d learned that anything too good to be true usually was.

But this was Kyrie’s building. I didn’t exactly want to be seen here right now, which is why I tricked the new security by cutting through Silverton Goods & Pawn - waved at the shopkeeper and headed back out of his alleyway entrance.

I also didn’t want to think that some photographer and a stone-faced assistant director wearing a lanyard that claims they are from Ashen Threads could just... come and go as they pleased.

> And we did just walk right through. Waved along by the werewolf security guard who didn’t look at me twice... <

Truly expecting we’d be going up to one of the middle floors, where I had been told there were conference rooms and other event spaces, instead I watched the man press the B4 button. I tried to keep my tone merely curious and not concerned.

"Basement levels?"

"The studios are down there. I didn’t make the floorplan, but at least it is harder for a lot of bored eyes from the businesses above to wander past just to get a look."

The assistant director dryly replied without ever looking me in the eyes. A black wolf paced uneasily in my mindscape, tail swishing back and forth thanks to my own discontent. My system given Intuition was not flaring... but my social skills were.

> Keep watch. I’m not sure what the deal is, but something is wrong. <

The elevator doors slid open a few beats after its ding, revealing a sleek industrial aesthetic with interesting touches of luxury. The hallway with polished concrete floors, the conduit and fluid pipes exposed overhead painted crisp white, and the regular recessed lighting gave the space a gallery-like quality.

Much different than dark and dingy maintenance area I might have expected from movies. But I couldn’t help but think that it was a matter of course for a part of Lunarizon Industries headed by Ms. Kyrie Voss, billionaire CEO. To be painted white, feel clean, and smell actually kind of nice...

"Right this way, please. The whole team is almost ready and we will start within the hour."

I followed, and the sound of six different heels echoed unevenly against the hard surface. Despite its nice appearance, there was something growing eerie in my heart about this level.

Maybe it was the quiet despite it being the middle of a workday. Along with that small bit of thrum from the ventilation. The soundproof quality of it all and the sense of isolation.

"Not much activity down here today for rented out spaces."

"This level is primarily used for specialty projects and long term storage. I’m told it is not rented out every day and hour. Privacy... is one of its main features."

His elongated pause on that word sent a chill down my spine that Vrika immediately matched with a soft growl. Only a half hitch occurred in my step as I debated whether it was worth abandoning the Task - or at least this job.

The man opened a heavy door marked [Studio 3] after we had passed two others. Inside was a minimalist photography setup with lights already positioned around a white backdrop, single chair, and nothing else.

Nothing but the unmistakable scent of several werewolves that had been through the area. The idea that they could have been just workers for the photoshoot was dim. Not with something familiar about one or two in particular that made the hair on the back of my neck rise.

> Victoria had been here recently. And that... wolf she talked to multiple times at the showcase venue? I think. <

I stopped just inside the doorway as the third person to enter. No makeup artist setting up their station out of the way, not even the expected racks of clothing to wear for the shoot. Just the man who proceeded to another door and exited through it, while Natalie strode to a tripod looking suddenly, uncomfortably stiff.

"Where’s everyone else?"

"Running a bit behind? It’s fine. Why don’t we get started with some test shots while we wait?"

She glanced at something behind me - perhaps the still open door? I stepped inside and took my hand off of it, the hydraulics pulling it closed with a thud that felt damning.

Vrika was frantic now, clawing urgently at the slab of Composure in my mindscape. I didn’t need the warning - I could feel the anxiety coming off Natalie in waves, see it in the tight way she held her shoulders.

"Is everything alright?"

I asked, stepping toward her rather than the center mark where I should be getting positioned. Where she wanted me to be. And it made her speak too quickly.

"Of course, we’re just pressed for time. The other model quitting and the client hiring a new photographer isn’t a great situation. I want us to look professional."

"Who exactly is your client, by the way? I have a feeling you were not arranged by the same agency that reached out to me."

Speaking while already knowing that all of this was a farce. That it couldn’t be who the booking claimed. Or at least, if it was... it had still been a setup from the start. I then saw her eyes flick to the closed door behind me like she was praying for help to come through it.

Or like she wished she had rushed back through long before the clicking noises of it opening again were made. A tall, broad-shouldered werewolf entered wearing a nice enough suit. With the familiar note from the showcase I’d caught earlier... mixed with Victoria’s lingering stench on his clothes.

Ms. Whitecrest might have orchestrated this for all I know, but I don’t expect her to be near. She wouldn’t be stupid enough to show her face directly. No, this had the fingerprints of a proxy all over it.

But which of them were which... made me curious. Because unless going to an event with Luca was suddenly grounds for escalating things, this scenario does not make any sense.

"Ms. Lomdi. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you properly ever since I was made aware of your existence. I’m Damien Eschenhorn, Victoria’s associate."