Chapter 133
Chapter 133:
A murmur rippled through the crowd outside the glass. I seized the fatal slip instantly. I rose from my chair, planted both hands on the desk, and projected my voice so it carried clearly through the slightly open door.
“He needs you?” I challenged, my voice ringing with absolute, undeniable Luna authority. “For what, exactly, Sloane? For your non-existent professional skills? Or for the private services you provide to a married Pack executive in a cash-leased Tribeca apartment p>
The collective gasp from the hallway was audible. Phones pressed closer to the glass.
Sloane stumbled backward as though I had struck her. Tears of absolute ruin spilled through her mascara. “He promised me!” she sobbed, breaking apart completely. “Vincent said he would always protect me! He said you were just a temporary placeholder and that he really runs this Pack p>
I stared at the pathetic, broken woman who had tormented me for months and felt nothing resembling pity.
“He lied,” I said, my voice falling like a judge’s final gavel.
𝖯𝘰𝗽𝘂𝗅𝘢𝗋 𝘀𝘵𝘰𝗿i𝗲𝗌 𝘰n
I looked up and gave a curt nod to the two Pack Warriors standing behind Harvey. “Escort her off the premises. She is permanently banned from all Wolfe Hotel Group properties p>
Sloane wailed, thrashing weakly as the Warriors took her by the arms and marched her out of the office. Her cries faded down the corridor, leaving a ringing, heavy silence in their wake.
I looked through the glass walls at the stunned Pack members. “Get back to work,” I said smoothly.
The crowd dispersed at once, their scents thick with newfound, absolute respect. I lowered myself back into my Alpha chair. Beneath the heavy mahogany desk, my hands were trembling violently from the adrenaline, but my face remained an impenetrable mask of stone.
I had just publicly executed Vincent Parrish’s reputation. Now all I had to do was wait for the usurper to come crashing through my doors.
Adelina POV
I didn’t have to wait long.
Less than ten minutes after Sloane was dragged out of the lobby, the heavy mahogany doors of my office burst open, slamming against the walls with a deafening crack.
Vincent Parrish stormed in. The air in my sanctuary was instantly polluted by the rancid, sour stench of stale cigars and absolute, suffocating panic. His face was a mottled, ugly red, and his Inner Wolf was thrashing in a state of cornered, desperate frenzy.
“You ruined everything!” Vincent roared, marching toward my desk. “You think you can just strip away my authority? I am a Pack executive! You are nothing but a wolfless puppet playing dress-up in your father’s chair p>
I didn’t flinch. I remained seated in that very chair, my hands folded neatly on the polished wood.
“I didn’t ruin you, Vincent,” I said, my voice a glacial, unwavering calm that starkly contrasted his hysteria. “Your own greed did. Your blatant betrayal of your Mate-bond and your theft of Pack funds brought you here p>
Before he could scream another insult, the intercom on my desk buzzed.
“Luna,” Harvey’s voice crackled through the speaker. “There is an urgent call for Mr. Parrish on the private line p>
I pressed the speakerphone button.
“Vincent p>