Chapter 32
Chapter 32:
I dropped the phone onto the marble table, my hands shaking violently. Kain sat across from me, his expression an unreadable mask of stone. But the atmospheric pressure in the room had plummeted, and his grounding scent of ancient cedar had turned into a freezing, lethal warning.
“He thinks I married Babe Vincent,” I choked out, panic tightening my chest like a vice. “Kira must have lied to him. He thinks Babe Marked me. He’s going to kill him, Kain. And he threatened to attack Wolfe Manor p>
Kain didn’t blink. He slowly set his crystal glass down, his movements terrifyingly precise. “Let a rabid dog chase a rat in the gutter,” he said, his voice a smooth, emotionless rumble. “It benefits us p>
I stared at him, horrified by his cold calculation. He was perfectly willing to let an innocent—albeit disgusting—man be torn apart just to keep our lie intact. “But the Manor—my grandmother is there p>
“Since the day you took back the deed, my Gamma and a squad of elite Blackstone Warriors have been stationed at the Manor,” Kain revealed calmly, his dark eyes locking onto mine. “Let him try p>
The sheer, overwhelming scope of his control hit me like a physical blow. He had militarized my home without telling me. To him, this was all just a game of territorial dominance—a chessboard where he moved the pieces in absolute silence.
“So Wolfe Manor is just an asset to you, right?” I asked softly, the bitter realization stinging my throat. I wrapped my arms around myself, suddenly feeling very small in his massive, bulletproof cage. “What about me, Kain? Am I just an asset to you too p>
Kain went perfectly still. The glacial, untouchable facade of the Alpha King slipped for a fraction of a second. His eyes darkened to pitch black, swirling with an ancient, heavy emotion that was far more terrifying than Jase’s explosive rage.
He leaned forward, the sheer gravity of his presence pulling the air from my lungs.
𝗜ո𝗌𝘁𝗮𝘯𝘵 аcc𝘦𝘀𝘴 𝗈ո
“You are the most valuable asset I have ever acquired p>
Jase POV
The McLaren’s tires screeched violently as I abandoned it in the red zone outside The Gilded Lily. The freezing New York downpour soaked my tailored suit, but the icy rain did absolutely nothing to cool the molten rage boiling in my veins. Adelina’s defiant voice still echoed in my ears, a mocking phantom in the dark. I chose a man who respects me.
I shattered the heavy oak door of the VIP room with a single, brutal kick. The space was bathed in sickening purple neon, reeking of cheap whiskey, human sweat, and the sour, rotting stench of Babe Vincent’s fear. Two human bodyguards stepped forward, but a low, guttural snarl from my chest froze them in their tracks. They shrank back, their primal instincts recognizing an apex predator.
Babe was sprawled on a velvet sofa, a cigar dangling from his lips, completely oblivious to the death sentence walking toward him. Before he could even register my presence, I crossed the room, grabbed him by the lapels of his gaudy Versace suit, and slammed him into the cracked plaster wall.