Page 67 of Beautifully Scarred Omega

I answer on the second ring.

“Hey, Soph.” His voice is warm. “Just thought I’d check in on you. How are things going?”

“They’re going well,” I lie, pressing the phone between my ear and shoulder as I continue drying my hair. “I’ve gotten to know the staff, built some rapport. Starting to get a sense of the dynamics.”

“Good, good.” I can hear him settling into a chair, the creak of leather in the background. “Any leads?”

“A few possibilities, but nothing concrete yet. I need more data.” I pause. “When is that background report coming?”

“Declan just sent it to you. Should be in your inbox.”

“Anything stand out?”

“I’m not sure, but Declan said he added some of his own notes. You know how he is, thorough to a fault.”

“Perfect.” I’m already moving out of the bathroom, crossing to the desk where my laptop sits. I flip it open and navigate to my secure email as we speak. “I have it here. I’ll go through it tonight.”

“How’s the cover holding up?” Griffin asks. “Anyone suspicious?”

“Not that I can tell. Sophie Dysart is fitting in nicely. Celine, one of the marketing staff, has practically adopted me. Keeps bringing me cookies and asking about my love life.” I scroll through the email, confirming the attachment is there. “The usual maternal omega stuff.”

Griffin chuckles. “Sounds like you’ve made a friend.”

“Sounds like I’ve made an asset,” I correct him. “Two, actually. Celine hears everything that moves through marketing, and Lucy on the front desk sees everyone who comes and goes and can’t keep a word to herself. Between them, if there’s gossip to be had, I’ll have it.”

“That’s my girl.” There’s pride in his voice. “And you’re taking care of yourself? Eating? Sleeping?”

“Yes, Dad,” I say dryly.

“I’m serious, Soph. These long-term assignments can wear you down. I don’t want you burning out.”

“I’m fine, Griffin. Really.”

He goes quiet for a moment, then carefully casual, he asks, “How are things with Pack Cavill?”

I go still, my hand hovering over the laptop touchpad.

“They’re fine,” I say slowly. “Why? Did they say something to you?”

“No, no.” Too quick. “It’s just... you know they have a reputation. Wealthy, powerful, used to getting what they want.” Another pause. “But things are okay, right? They’re treating you well?”

Good God.

I cannot believe Griffin is asking me this.

“Griffin.” My voice comes out harder than I intend. “I am not some desperate omega who’s going to fall at their feet because they have nice suits and deep pockets.”

“I didn’t mean⁠—”

“I’ve faced down trafficking rings. I’ve killed men twice my size. I think I can handle three billionaires who make sex toys for a living.”

Silence on the other end.

“Yes,” Griffin says finally, and I can hear the smile in his voice despite the scolding. “Yes, of course. I didn’t mean to imply otherwise. I just worry about you.”

“Don’t.”

“Can’t help it. It’s part of the job description.” He sighs. “Alright, I’ll let you go. Call me if you need anything. And Sophie?”