Felicia had just stepped out of the washroom when she sensed it—foreign pack pressure filling the corridor like an unwanted territorial claim. Her instincts tightened immediately, and she frowned as she stepped forward. "Who are you people?"
The leading man didn't hesitate. His posture carried the rigid confidence of a legal Alpha from a rival domain. "George Walden. Director of Savill Jewelry Atelier. We have reason to believe one of your employees has stolen proprietary design work from our pack and we are here to enforce legal accountability."
His words landed like a declared accusation, loud and certain, as if the verdict had already been decided.
Felicia's lips curled slightly in disdain. Rival ateliers always circled like this when territory overlap occurred. "Proof?" she asked coldly. "You can't just storm into Bourgeois territory and accuse our people without evidence. We'll respond with defamation charges if this is a false claim."
