Claimed by the Alien Shifter by Mina Carter

Author:Mina Carter [Carter, Mina]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Mina Carter

There were many things about being president of Earth that Cam had never considered.

It wasn’t just about power and the right to make decisions that affected billions of lives. It was also about the workload and the sheer responsibility of protecting so many people, especially when now they had aliens to contend with.

He grumbled under his breath as he poured himself another glass of whiskey. It was an aged malt, one of the finest and most expensive whiskeys on the planet… Hell, even in the human systems… And it went down like a fiery, silky dream.

And he’d still rather have a beer in some grotty backstreet downtown city bar. At least there he knew the only knives in his back would be from street thugs looking to relieve him of his credits, not the slicker kind of human snake after power and influence.

He carried the glass across to his desk and dropped into the plush leather seat behind it with a sigh. His jacket was slung in a chair nearby, and he’d long since loosened his tie.

For a moment he studied his reflection in the night-darkened glass opposite. His office looked out onto a landscaped garden, supposed to bring the president peace and serenity.

To him it was just fucking plants. Expensive plants imported at great cost from other places and made to grow here in an ecosystem they weren’t designed for. Which meant they were on the planetary equivalent of life-support, at a cost that would feed and clothe many children in the group homes.

It grieved him that he couldn’t just divert those funds to where they were needed the most. But he couldn’t. He had to play nice, listen to proposals, organize votes and funding. Massage egos.

It made him sick.

He studied his reflection. He was dressed the part, but the well-cut suit was just a uniform for another type of battlefield. Nobody shot at him anymore…

He half wished they did. It would certainly liven up some of the duller meetings he had to attend. But he was under no illusion that he was still a soldier, fighting an enemy that hid in the shadows in the hearts of men. Greed.

The screen in front of him chirped to alert him of an incoming call, and he bit back a sigh as he recognized the identity code. Fuck. He needed way more whiskey for this. Perhaps he could treat himself. Ditch the whole kit and caboodle later and head into the city for one of those beers.

Knocking back what was left in his glass in one swallow, he put it out of view of the screen and answered the call.

Maxwell Russell’s face appeared on screen, the slimy smile making Cam feel instantly dirty. Of all the snakes he had to deal with, Russell was the worst. Nearing sixty years old, the guy looked no later than mid-forties.

Recently promoted as the CEO of Anselm Corp, he obviously took advantage of the latest in rejuvenation treatments one of their subsidiaries offered. Probably at cost, or free.

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