Chapter 345
Chapter 345:
His deep, resonant baritone sent an involuntary shiver down my spine. I quickly explained the nightmare I had just created, my voice tight with humiliation as I asked the Lycan Senator to play my fake boyfriend for one night.
A heavy silence stretched over the line. Then a low, dark chuckle vibrated through the speaker.
“I will be there on Friday,” Grant murmured, his tone laced with a terrifying, predatory amusement.
“I can pay you for your time,” I offered desperately. “Whatever your rate is p>
“I don’t want your money, Carmella,” Grant interrupted, his voice dropping to a husky, freezing frequency that made the hair on my arms stand up. “I always collect what is mine p>
Grant POV
I hung up the phone, the deep, vibrating purr of my Lycan echoing in the quiet of my Capitol Hill office.
I pressed the intercom on my mahogany desk. “Cancel my video conference with the Continental Pack Council this Friday. Clear my entire evening p>
Ignoring my assistant’s shocked confirmation, I unlocked the bottom drawer of my desk and pulled out a thick, unmarked manila folder. It contained no government legislation—only illegally acquired, highly classified medical reports from Italy, dated seven years ago.
I traced my finger over the attached photograph of Carmella, her beautiful face pale and unconscious in an ICU bed. The reports detailed the horrific silver-laced weapon attack that had shattered her memories and forced her Inner Wolf into a permanent, traumatized coma.
W𝘩𝖺𝘁 e𝗏er𝘺𝗈𝘯е іs 𝗋𝖾а𝗱𝘪𝘯𝘨 o𝘯.с𝘰𝘮
My Lycan roared in my mind—a violent, possessive sound of absolute triumph. She thought she was hiring a temporary shield. She had no idea she had just handed me the key to her cage.
“You’re walking back into my den, my love,” I whispered to the photograph, the scent of rosemary and rain thickening the air with dark obsession. “And this time, I will never let you leave p>
Adelina POV
The sprawling Manhattan skyline offered no comfort as I stared at the glowing screen of my phone in the Penthouse Den at Blackstone Tower.
Carmella: I panicked. I asked Senator Grant Blackwell to pretend to be my mate for a family dinner on Friday. He actually said yes.
A cold, paralyzing dread washed over me. Carmella was wolfless. She couldn’t sense the terrifying, ancient power that radiated from the Blackwell bloodline. She didn’t know that Lycans didn’t play games, and they certainly didn’t do favors.
I looked around my gilded cage, thinking of the extreme, world-burning lengths Kain had gone to just to claim me. Grant was Kain’s brother, forged from the exact same possessive, obsessive darkness. Carmella thought she was using a politician for a simple dinner party—completely unaware that she had just invited an apex predator to swallow her whole.
Carmella POV
The private dining room at Le Bernardin felt less like a Michelin-starred restaurant and more like an execution chamber. The clock on the wall read 7:10 PM. Eleanor’s cloying, heavy rose scent thickened the air, suffocating my wolfless lungs.
“He isn’t coming, Carmella,” Eleanor sneered, taking a delicate sip of her wine. “I knew you were bluffing p>