Michael’s POV
I opened it and began reading.
Within the first page, I realised she hadn’t approached the assignment the same way as the rest of the class.
The case study had intentionally been written without a definitive solution. While most students focused on identifying the safest decision before justifying it with financial models and management theories, Emerald did the opposite.
She began by questioning the assumptions behind the information itself.
My eyes continued moving down the page.
Rather than asking whether the acquisition should proceed, she questioned whether management had gathered the right information to justify making the decision in the first place.
She identified risks that I was quite sure most students had ignored entirely before proposing several practical methods of obtaining the missing information without allowing a competitor to seize the opportunity.
I turned the page. There was no unnecessary jargon or attempt to impress me by quoting every business framework she had ever studied.
Everything she wrote served a purpose. It was concise, logical, and practical.
Almost instinctively, the corner of my mouth lifted into a faint smile. Interesting.
By the time I finished reading the final page, I leaned back in my chair. Emerald hadn’t produced the perfect answer. That wasn’t possible because the assignment hadn’t been designed to have one. But she had demonstrated something considerably more valuable.
Judgment.
She understood that executives were rarely paid to make perfect decisions. They were paid to make the best possible decision with imperfect information. For a first assignment, I couldn’t ask for much more than that.
I reached for my pen and began writing several comments in the margin. Suggestions, not corrections.
There were areas where she could strengthen her reasoning and places where she had reached the correct conclusion but hadn’t fully explained how she arrived there.
Her thinking deserved to be challenged; only then would it continue to improve.
Once I finished, I placed her assignment neatly on top of the completed pile before continuing with the rest of the class.
By the time I left my office that evening, the corridors of Lanard Business School had become noticeably quieter. Most students and professors had already left.
I walked across the staff parking area towards my Aston Martin DBX. My phone vibrated just as I reached it.
Alaric.
I answered the call. "What is it?"
"You aren’t back in Los Angeles yet?"
The noise behind him suggested he wasn’t at home. Voices overlapped one another, accompanied by music and the occasional burst of laughter.
"No."
A brief silence followed before his voice came up again. "This wasn’t the agreement."
I unlocked the vehicle before replying. "I don’t recall making any agreement with you."
Alaric let out an exaggerated groan. "You’ve been in Boston for over a week."
"I know."
"And you still intend to stay?"
"For the time being."
Another sigh came through the speaker. "You’re really something."
"So I’ve been told."
He laughed. "I was really hoping you would return this weekend." There was another short pause before he spoke again. "Have you at least started looking?"
"Looking for what?"
"My brother..." His tone became noticeably drier. "...your mate."
I opened the driver’s door. "I don’t have time for that." I placed my work bag on the front passenger seat before settling into the driver’s seat.
Alaric laughed. "No, finding a woman has never been your problem." He paused deliberately before adding, "But finding the right woman for a Primogen is."
I started the engine. "Fortunately, that’s not one of my current priorities."
"That doesn’t sound like how seriously you took His Majesty’s orders back at the meeting. Well, take your time."
I could almost picture the amused expression on his face.
"I’m off to continue my search," he finished.
"For yourself?" I raised an eyebrow.
"For you."
I gave a quiet shake of my head. "I never asked you to."
"No, you didn’t. But someone clearly has to," he replied stubbornly.
"Lest you forget, you are also a Primogen. I strongly suggest you leave me out of your hunt and focus on yourself," I said to him.
A soft chuckle escaped his lips. "Well, I will have you know I only have your best interests at heart. Plus, I’m good at multitasking."
Before I could answer, the line disconnected.
I placed the phone onto the wireless charging pad beside the centre console, fastened my seatbelt and pulled out of the parking space.
Alaric had been having the same conversation with me for decades, even before the Alpha King’s recent order.
It never changed, and neither did my answer.
Finding a mate wasn’t something that could be scheduled between board meetings and investment conferences. Nor was it something I had ever devoted much thought to.
My attention was occupied elsewhere.
As the traffic lights ahead turned green, Emerald’s assignment briefly crossed my mind again.
For someone with comparatively little executive experience, her reasoning had been remarkably disciplined.
I found myself looking forward to discussing it with her. I wanted to see whether the thinking in her report truly reflected the way her mind worked.
If it did... then Emerald Hugo possessed something far rarer than intelligence.
She possessed judgment.
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The following afternoon, my last lecture ended shortly before four o’clock.
Rather than leaving immediately, I returned to my office for the marked assignments.
I had asked the administrative office to arrange brief feedback sessions with several students whose work stood out, whether positively or negatively. Emerald Hugo was among them.
A few minutes later, there was a knock on my office door.
"Come in."
The door opened. "Good afternoon, Professor."
I lifted my head. "Good afternoon, Miss Hugo." Then I gestured towards the chair opposite my desk. "Please, have a seat."
"Thank you." She placed her handbag neatly beside the chair before sitting down. As she did, a delicate fragrance drifted across the room.
Fruity notes blended effortlessly with soft florals before settling into a smooth, creamy base. It was subtle and elegant, nothing like the overpowering perfumes some women favoured.
Without warning, my wolf, Draxen, stirred. "Mate."
The single word echoed through my mind with unusual intensity. My hand froze over the assignment.
"...What?"