Chapter 2

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Even from up in the loft, the scent of sex, sweat, and alcohol reached Damon's nose. In that order.

He honestly hadn't expected the bar to be this successful when he opened it last month. He had created it to be a safe place where humans and shifters could be together, whether it was to couple or to sate human curiosity. Better here in a controlled environment than on the streets where shifters could easily get a bad reputation.

When the top Alphas of the world came together and voted it was time humans knew about the Night Folk--well, some of it--Damon had been one of the few Alphas against it. But, as big he was on the west coast, he wasn't big enough in the whole scale of things to influence the results. And so, as he predicted, there was tension between his people and humans.

Shocker.

Humans weren't on top of the food chain like they thought they were and they didn't like it. There were a few days when Damon thought a war might break out, but as the weeks went on, everyone settled into the new world. Humans weren't as wary of shifters and, in fact, welcomed them. Mostly. Of course, there were always a few who would never accept them. Always see them as beasts, as predators waiting for the fragile humans to let their guard down. Some expressed their disdain louder than others. 

His job was to maintain the delicate balance that had fallen over the city. To keep those who threatened to disrupt it in line. Part of it was meeting with various businessmen around the city.

Kalem Jones, his right hand man, cleared his throat as he rode up the stairs with Damon's next meeting. Damon faced them and plastered a smile for Royce Mathison, an entrepreneur who owned a chain of casinos and hotels down the west coast. He wore a tailored purple suit that shimmered in the flashing light below. His arms were swung over two women, both who's dresses barely covered the necessities. The man was worth a billion dollars and had clearly shared his wealth with them tonight, but it only took one look at Damon for their attention to be immediately drawn to him. The blonde in particular reacted to him and bit her tantalizing lip as her gaze raked over him.

Maybe Royce wouldn't mind sharing the company he kept, but for now, "You know the rules. No one outside the business."

Royce rolled his eyes with a childish pout, but he didn't protest. He kissed the red head's cheek then slipped a couple hundred dollar bills in the blonde's cleavage. "Why don't you girls go have some fun? I'll join you later."

The women didn't object and hurried back down the stairs. It was a miracle they managed to not get their heels caught in the holes of the steel-grated stairs on their way down. Kalem smirked after them, approving of the view, before nodding to Damon and following them to the main floor.

Royce grimaced when the song changed to some modern new techno tune. Damon didn't bother to keep up with the times anymore; after trying for over a century, he learned hiring people to do it for him was much easier. And more successful.

"Do we have to conduct business here?" Royce complained. "It's so loud. I can barely hear myself."

"It's loud enough no one will be able to eavesdrop." Not even a shifter at the bottom of the stairs could hear the business taking place in the loft. The way Damon liked it.

He gestured to the velvet buttoned couch sitting opposite him for Royce to have a seat. Damon kept this office simple, only two couches, a coffee table sandwiched between, and a stand alone bar off to the side for when he felt like being an amicable host.

Royce peered around the loft, up at the exposed steel rafters, possibly catching a glimpse of security patrolling the catwalk, and off the side to the crowd below. "It's a nice place you've built here. How's the revenue?"

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