Chapter 12
Chapter 12:
I didn’t scream. I didn’t cry. I walked calmly to the nightstand. Sitting there was a heavy crystal vase I had left behind weeks ago. The hydrangeas inside were dead, rotting in a pool of thick, brown, foul-smelling water.
I picked up the vase and, with a swift, violent motion, hurled the entire contents directly at them.
The putrid, slimy water splashed across Kira’s face, her chest, and the pristine white sheets. Dead, rotting petals plastered to Jase’s bare chest.
Kira unleashed a blood-curdling shriek, scrambling backward as the stench of decay hit her. “Are you insane?!” she sobbed, wiping the foul slime from her eyes.
Jase roared, his eyes flashing feral gold as he lunged forward. “You dead bitch p>
I didn’t flinch. I pulled out my phone and dialed a number, keeping my eyes locked on his. “Yes, I need a Pack-level biohazard crew at Wolfe Manor immediately,” I said clearly into the receiver. “Level three decontamination in the east wing. I have a severe vermin infestation, and everything they’ve touched needs to be incinerated p>
“What is the meaning of this p>
Carolyn Parrish stormed into the room, her silk robe billowing. She took one look at the rotting mess covering her honored guests and her face twisted in absolute, venomous fury. “You ungrateful little whore p>
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She raised her hand, stepping forward to deliver a brutal slap.
For the first time in my life, I didn’t cower. My hand shot out, my fingers clamping around her wrist like a vice.
Carolyn gasped, her eyes widening in shock at my physical resistance.
“Get your trash out of my house,” I said, looking at all three of them. “You have five minutes p>
I turned my back on their stunned silence, walked into my father’s adjoining study, lifted his leather-bound Alpha journal from the desk, and walked out. The den was mine again.
Adelina POV
The crisp morning air was thick with the sharp, chemical scent of industrial bleach. It was a harsh smell, but to me, it was the scent of victory—actively erasing the sickening metallic ozone of Jase Davenport and the cloying perfume of Kira Parrish from my childhood den.
I stood on the grand porch of Wolfe Manor, wearing a simple white button-down shirt, watching the Pack-level biohazard crew I had hired work with ruthless efficiency.
“Heave!” one of the men in a hazmat suit shouted from the second-floor balcony.
The tainted king-sized mattress from my bedroom plummeted over the stone railing, crashing onto the driveway in an explosion of torn fabric and feathers.
“Are you out of your mind?!” a shrill voice shrieked.
I didn’t even flinch. Jase and Kira were marching up the driveway. They hadn’t left the area after I kicked them out the night before; Jase’s fragile Alpha ego couldn’t handle the humiliation of being ousted by a wolfless Omega.
Kira lunged toward a pile of debris the crew had hauled out, her eyes wide with horror. “My bag! That is a limited-edition Birkin! It’s worth forty thousand dollars, you psycho p>
Jase stormed toward the porch, his eyes flashing feral gold. “I will have my lawyers sue you into absolute bankruptcy for this, Adelina. You are going to pay for every single p>