I pull my pillow over my head with a soft groan. Apparently, the sun didn't get the memo about the sharp pain in my temples and the existential life crisis I had last night.

I've had more to drink in my first two nights back home than I've ever had before. I make a vow to myself that last night would be the last time. I need to face my problems head on instead of drowning them in going out.

My phone vibrates harshly against the surface of my metal nightstand, effectively bringing me back to reality. I answer without bothering to check the caller ID.

"What?" I grumble.

"Meeting in thirty. If you're going to be part of the business, you need to be there."

Oliver hangs up before I can respond.

"Well good morning to you, too," I stick my tongue out at my phone as if somehow he'll see it.

After a long stretch, I finally make it out of bed and start getting ready. I wash my face quickly and put on a simple white blouse and some black plaid slacks. The outfit hugs my curves nicely, but is still professional enough for Oliver's strict dress code.

I arrive at the warehouse with ten minutes to kill. To no surprise, Freya pulls up behind me on a sleek red motorcycle seconds later. I smirk and decide I wasn't upset about last night. I know she'd rather be assigned to any other job than babysitting me.

I slide out of the car and approach her with a warm smile. She grins back at me mischievously as she takes off her helmet.

"Hey," I greet her shyly.

"Hey yourself. I'm surprised you're up and walking around."

"Haha, yeah. Sorry about last night. I swear I don't make a habit of being a belligerent drunken ass, but the past couple of nights have been... rough," I admit.

I rub the back of my neck nervously and we start making our way up to the warehouse together. She laughs lightly and pats me on the back.

"As long as you don't make me chase after you when you're drunk. Or tuck you into bed again. I fucking hate chasing drunk people."

The thought of her tucking me into bed is embarrassing, but the more I get to know Freya, the more I like her. She's easy to talk to when she's not on duty.

Oliver eyes us suspiciously as we walk inside, chatting quietly with each other. I make a point of ignoring him as I make my way to the front of the small crowd congregating in the room. I probably don't deserve my spot here yet. I haven't done anything for these people besides share my father's last name, but I'm determined to prove myself to them.

Illegal or not, I'll prove that I belong here. Oliver has dedicated his life to this place and to his employees, I should do the same. Oliver makes his way up to stand next to me. One look from him and the scattered conversations came to a halt.

"As you all know already, Jasper and his guys have been scoping out our properties and trying to move in on our territory for the past few months," Oliver begins. "Early this morning, they broke into one of our main distribution centers and stole at least six crates of product. A couple hundred thousand worth from what we've gathered so far."

The group breaks out into angry whispers. I've only heard Oliver mention his name once, when we came here yesterday, but by the sounds of outrage, he's been a thorn in everyone's side for some time now.

Oliver lifts his hand to silence everyone again.

"That's not all," he continues.

Several people look up at him with furrowed brows, concern evident on their faces. Lydia and Kingston, the guards assigned to watching Jasper, look sick.

"Jasper's men killed two of ours in the process. Holden and Jude were on watch this morning when they broke in. Jasper needs to pay for what he's done. I want every last one of his men in a body bag."