Wicked lessons with the rakish wolf

From the Journal of the Alpha of Riverdale A dark secret shaped me into the man I am ... With that, all is said. *Rosalind* I can make a killing here. I do nothing to reveal my delight at the discovery, although I doubt anyone will derive the true meaning behind a beaming smile or eyes glinting with satisfaction. All the she-wolves in attendance are agog at the magnificent display of opulence and the evidence of sin, avarice, and gentlemanly indulgences. The fairer s*x has finally been allowed entry into one of the men's most notorious and gossiped-about inner sanctums, and they are relishing the discoveries of all that has been held secret and denied them. The express purpose of tonight's event… a grand ball, entrance by invitation only… is to entertain current members and introduce potential future ones to all the benefits that the former gentlemen's club offers. Since my arrival in Blackrock City a fortnight ago, I had discovered the Twin Wolves are the talk of the town. Not surprisingly, as I had caught sight of its owner half an hour earlier when he had emerged through a doorway that apparently led to the back rooms. With a purpose to his stride, he had caught my attention because I recognized in him a kindred spirit. Not ten minutes later, he had taken a she-wolf into his arms and kissed her quite thoroughly and entirely inappropriately… right in the center of one of the dance areas. Based on his fervor and the she-wolf’s enthusiasm, I eliminated him as someone with the potential to assist in my endeavors. He is obviously spoken for, and unattached men are much less complicated to deal with. Ignoring the men scrutinizing me, I familiarize myself with the surroundings that will serve as a second home during the coming weeks. A portion of the room contains tables that deal in various games of chance. I suspect that on the morrow, the remainder of the room will as well, but tonight the area absent of games serves as a place for people to visit or dance. Huge crystal gaslit chandeliers provide the lighting. The paper along the walls is neutral in tone, not particularly masculine or feminine. I would have liked to have had the opportunity to view the club before the renovations that seek to strike a balance between what will remain of interest to males and what will not offend she-wolves. No doubt it had been a bit more decadent and far more interesting. But I am not here for the trimmings. Rather, it is the building's heart and soul… those upon whom its very existence depends… calling to me. Wandering through the crowd, smiling here and there, I know those to whom I have given a nod of acknowledgment will be confused, striving to remember from whence they know me; some will even swear on the morrow that they had recognized me, were old acquaintances. None will admit they have never seen me before in their lives. I have mastered the art of appearing as though I belong, and I have mastered a great many other things. Walking into the she-wolves' salon, which after tonight will be off-limits to gentlemen, I know I won’t make a habit of frequenting this room, but it might provide the occasional opportunity to cement the right relationships. "Hello." Turning, I face a small she-wolf with mahogany hair and eyes as dark as Satan's soul… and full of suspicion. Another kindred spirit, perhaps. "Good evening," I say with authority, as though the room is mine to command. Control, imperative to winning the game, has to be maintained at all times, at any cost. "I don't believe we've been properly introduced. I'm Mrs. Rosalind Shadowveil." "Miss Melina." Shoving down my surprise, I merely arch a brow. "You are rare, my dear. An unmarried she-wolf of means." "Why would you draw such a conclusion?" “It is my understanding that only the high packs and those of wealth are invited to this exclusive affair. As you do not appear to be from a high pack, that leaves wealth.” The she-wolf smiles slightly. “Yes, invitations were rather limited, but it is my father who has the means. Not to mention that he is the previous owner of the establishment when it was The Full Moon Club.” Ah, yes, I should have recognized the name. I will castigate myself later for failing to do so. A careless slip can cost me dearly, and put a crimp in my plans. “I suspect he's a rather interesting chap. I look forward to meeting him.” Miss Melina glances around casually, although there is an alertness to her that I don’t much favor. “Is your husband about?” the younger she-wolf asks. “I'm a widow,” I say. Miss Melina swings her gaze back around, sorrow evident within the depths of her dark eyes as she settles them once more on me. “I'm terribly sorry.” “A tiger attack while we were touring through the jungles of the Eastern lands. But he went as he lived... adventurously. I draw comfort from that. He would have hated dying of old age, infirm, in bed.” “I suppose there is something to be said for going as one wishes rather than as one is forced. Are you new to Blackrock City, then? I don't mean to pry, but I'm not familiar with your family.” "No need to apologize, my dear. I've been here only a fortnight. It's my first foray into town.” “That's unusual.” “Before the Eastern lands, I lived in the north, a small town hardly worth mentioning as few have heard of it.” Nowhere that I have lived is really worth mentioning, especially as it is risky to provide breadcrumbs for anyone who might take an interest in retracing my journey. “I believe my solicitor was instrumental in garnering me an invitation to tonight's affair.” I am sure of it, in fact. Mr. Beck has been bending over backward to accommodate me since I walked into his office. Widows who are to inherit all their husband's holdings are rare and greatly appreciated. Based on what I have told him of the estate, he is well aware that he stands to make a tidy sum by assisting me. He wants to keep me more than content. “I'm eternally in his debt.” “Would you like me to show you about?” she asks. I shake my head, “I couldn't possibly impose to such an extent. Besides, I have a bit of the adventurous spirit in me and prefer exploring on my own.” “Well then, I'll let you get to it. I do hope you enjoy your evening.” “Oh, I shall most certainly strive to do exactly that.” Miss Melina takes her leave then, and I make a mental note to ask Beck about the girl's father. It is quite possible that I might want to form a friendship with Miss Melina, even if she isn't nobility. Unlike most people, I am more interested in coins than rank. As the new owner has opened the establishment to those who are not peers, it seems he, too, values coin over birth. A wise principle, as one cannot choose family. I know that well enough. I walk into a dining room. Such a tremendous amount of food adorns the sideboards that they are in danger of buckling. People sit at round linen-covered tables, enjoying the fare. The lights are dimmer. Candles flicker in the center of the tables. The room would serve as a romantic rendezvous. I will dine here when the time comes, and will do a good many things here. They have allowed me in. My skill and cunning will ensure I take advantage of their lack of good judgment.