Chapter 383
Chapter 383:
Adelina POV
The suffocating silence on the line stretched for another three seconds before Victoria finally found her voice.
“You’re delusional, Adelina,” she stammered, her tone a frantic, pitchy attempt at her usual arrogance. “This is just a high-quality replica I bought on Fifth Avenue. You’re insane to think I would set foot in your tacky hotel p>
A dark, humorless laugh escaped my lips. My dormant White Wolf didn’t howl in panic; she sat perfectly still, watching the prey back itself into a corner.
“That sapphire feels cold on your skin, doesn’t it, Victoria?” I asked, my voice dropping into a calm, cruel frequency. “It’s because it doesn’t recognize you. It’s calling for its true Luna. And inside the clasp, there’s a Glyph of Binding—a mark you could never replicate p>
A sharp gasp hitched in her throat. Through the speaker, I heard the violent clatter of ceramic—a coffee cup knocking over and shattering against the cafe floor, followed by the frantic scraping of a chair. Victoria didn’t say another word. She hung up.
I lowered the phone, knowing she was already running like a hunted animal. But I wasn’t done. I immediately dialed the Sterling townhouse.
𝘈𝘥d𝘪𝖼𝗍і𝘃e ո𝗈𝗏e𝗅𝘴 оո
A maid answered and quickly transferred the call.
“Adelina?” Carolyn’s voice came through, dripping with a sickeningly sweet, greedy hope. She thought I was calling to offer her a penthouse.
“Victoria stole the Blackstone Sapphire from my private washroom,” I stated, cutting through her delusion like a silver blade.
“Excuse me?” Carolyn scoffed, her tone instantly turning defensive. “Victoria is a Sterling. She doesn’t need to steal. You’re overreacting and trying to frame my family p>
“I’m giving you one hour,” I interrupted, the absolute authority of a Queen lacing every syllable. “If that necklace isn’t at my front desk, I won’t be calling the NYPD. I’ll be reporting a human for the desecration of a Luna’s sacred artifact to The Continental Pack Council. Do you know what they do to humans who challenge a Lycan bloodline, Mother p>
The line went dead silent. Even miles away, I could practically smell the rancid, suffocating stench of her weak Omega wolf howling in absolute terror. The Continental Pack Council didn’t issue fines or prison sentences. They erased bloodlines.
“One hour, Carolyn,” I whispered, and ended the call.
I set my phone on the mahogany desk and leaned back in my chair. In the corner of my Alpha Office, the antique grandfather clock ticked, its heavy brass second hand echoing in the quiet room, counting down the destruction of the Sterling empire.
I closed my eyes, easily picturing the chaos unfolding across the city. Carolyn was likely sprinting up the narrow servant stairs of the townhouse, her faded floral scent soured with panic. I could imagine her pounding her fists against the heavy wooden door of Victoria’s bedroom, screaming at her to open it. And Victoria—the arrogant, untouchable heiress—was probably sitting on the floor, her back pressed against the door, sobbing with her hands over her ears, refusing to face the reality of the god she had just provoked.
The clock ticked.