Chapter 418
Chapter 418:
I ended the call and hit the ignition. The Aston Martin’s V12 engine roared to life — a deafening, mechanical battle cry that perfectly echoed the vengeful snarl of my Inner Wolf as I tore away from the curb.
Jase POV
The Michelin-starred French restaurant bordering Central Park felt less like a dining room and more like a velvet-lined execution chamber.
Exactly two hours had passed since my father, Richard Davenport, issued his final ultimatum: marry Isabelle Sterling today, or be stripped of my Alpha title and cast out as a Rogue. Now I sat across from my executioner.
Isabelle took a slow, deliberate sip from her crystal water glass. She was human — devoid of an Inner Wolf — yet she held all the power. Her expensive, icy perfume suffocated the rich aromas of roasted duck and truffles, choking my already battered senses.
“Let’s skip the pleasantries, Jase,” Isabelle said, her voice a flat, calculating monotone. She slid a thick, leather-bound folder across the pristine white tablecloth. “With my sister Victoria rotting in a holding cell and my father’s bribery scandal tanking Sterling Capital’s stock, the board demands a respectable, compliant husband to stabilize my public image. You, on the other hand, need an immediate capital injection to stop Davenport Tech from liquidating this Friday p>
I stared at the folder, my jaw clenched so tight my teeth ached.
𝘙𝘦a𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝗮𝘯𝘆 𝘥еv𝘪𝘤𝖾 o𝘯
“The prenup is non-negotiable,” she continued, tapping a manicured nail against the leather. “We will maintain separate residences. You will have zero voting rights or interference in my family’s business. And most importantly, you are strictly forbidden from releasing your Alpha scent in my presence. I find the smell of werewolf dominance incredibly vulgar p>
A violent shudder wracked my frame. My Inner Wolf, once a proud and terrifying force, howled in absolute, emasculating agony. She wasn’t merely buying a husband — she was castrating my soul, turning an Alpha into a leashed, scentless lapdog.
As I stared at the dotted line, a ghost from five years ago violently invaded my mind. Adelina. I remembered the tiny, cramped apartment we used to share before I threw her away for Kira Parrish’s false prestige. I remembered the intoxicating, vibrant scent of wild roses and storm that used to cling to my sheets. Adelina had looked at me with pure, unconditional devotion, and I had traded her for this — a cold, loveless corporate transaction.
“Sign it, Jase,” Isabelle demanded, glancing at her diamond-encrusted watch. “Or I walk, and you become a homeless Rogue by midnight p>
My hand trembled as I picked up the heavy gold pen. Blinded by a suffocating mix of self-loathing and terror, I didn’t even read the remaining clauses. I scrawled my signature, effectively signing away my freedom, my pride, and my life.