Max’s first day on the job proved every bit as harrowing as he’d feared, but not for any of the reasons he assumed. The store’s systems were enough like the ones he’d used to manage bookings at the Cabin that he had them figured out by the afternoon, but by the end of his first day, he’d slipped on a patch of wax, taken out a whole shelf full of shoe boxes and nearly ordered three-hundred boxes of coats from last season.

Despite all of it, the store manager assured him that he was doing well and that she thought he’d fit right in. His other coworkers were mostly omegas who’d been hired through the Moving Forward Program, it turned out, and they seemed to like Max well enough, even if he felt like he was a bit overeager. They’d invited him out for lunch, and since the movers were coming to put his furniture into his new apartment at six, his boss offered to let him leave early.

The small studio wasn’t glamorous, but it was safe and it was his. Max had grown up in an upper-class family in a house with a pool, but he’d never been prouder to call anyplace home. He was exhausted and his feet were aching from walking the entire department store twenty times, but the moment he put his key in the door, he felt a rush of joy.

His life was finally starting to feel like his own, and it wasn’t just the fact that his name was on the lease. The pay at his new job was more than enough to pay the rent and to keep funding his investigation, and if he stuck with the company, there were more opportunities where that came from. The best part was that at the end of a long day, Max could count on having his own space and indulge in the hope that someday soon, he might have someone else to share it with.

In the week that followed, he’d never worked harder or slept sounder when his head finally hit the pillow at night, but he’d gotten the hang of his routine duties and hadn’t taken out any displays since, so he considered it a resounding success.

Max was on a well-deserved lunch break when he saw John’s number pop up on his screen. Other than a few emails to let him know that nothing had changed, Max hadn’t heard from the beta all week.

“Sorry, I’ve gotta take this,” he said, excusing himself from his coworkers in the break room. Once he was alone in the hall, he answered, “Hey, John. Any luck finding the birth certificate?”

“Yes, actually. The birthdate on the certificate matches the birthdate listed in this kid’s profile with the agency, and their socials are a mismatch, but that’s not why I’m calling.”

Max’s heart sank. “What is it?”

“Your ex is in town,” John said in an apologetic tone.

“In Buffalo?” Max cried. A few customers cast him strange looks and he lowered his voice, turning to face the wall. “How do you know?”

“I found out by coincidence, actually. I was down at the station working on a lead for another case, and I saw him. Recognized him from the old picture you showed me.”

“Are you sure that was him?”

“He has a beard now, and the years haven’t treated him as well as they did you, but I never forget a face.”

Max wasn’t quite sure how to respond to the compliment, especially since John didn’t seem to mean it as one. “What does he want?” he asked, his hands trembling as he gripped the phone.

“He was just working, far as I could tell. He’s with the feds now, you know that?”

Max swallowed hard. “No, but I’m not surprised. He always was ambitious.”

“Listen, I’m only telling you this because it’s a small city and I don’t want you running into him by surprise and doing something you’ll regret. We’re close, Max. Closer than we’ve ever been. Remember that, alright?”

He took a deep breath and tried to quiet the fear and the anger that were always at war within him when it came to Chris Bram. “I will,” he promised. “Thanks for the heads up.”

“Any time.” The line went dead and Max forced himself to get back to work. If he was going to undo the damage Chris had done, wrapping his hands around the powerful Alpha’s throat wasn’t going to accomplish anything. He just had to keep his head down, keep working and keep trusting John to do his job, all the while hoping that Chris did the one thing he’d always been good at: leaving.