Chapter 391
Chapter 391:
I couldn’t breathe. It was real. The silver. The attack.
I scrolled to the final page. A scanned copy of a birth certificate stared back at me.
Mother: Carmella. Father: Redacted by Council Order. Infant Status: Alive. Transferred to Blackstone Pack NICU.
The laptop slipped from my lap, crashing onto the hardwood floor.
Outside my window, a low rumble of thunder shook the glass, and a torrential, freezing rain began to batter the city.
Carmella POV
The torrential rain soaked through my coat, chilling me to the bone, but it was nothing compared to the absolute ice in my veins. I stood before the heavy oak door of Grant Blackwell’s Manhattan penthouse, my trembling fingers clutching the termination papers I had drafted just hours ago.
𝘐ns𝘁аnt a𝘤с𝘦𝗌𝗌 oո
I didn’t even have to knock. The door swung open.
Grant stood there, the warm, dim light of the foyer casting a golden halo around his massive frame. His rosemary and rain scent washed over me, but tonight, it didn’t feel like a refuge. It felt like a suffocating trap.
“Carmella? You’re freezing,” he murmured, his brow furrowing as he reached out for me.
I flinched violently, recoiling as if his touch would burn me. I slapped the damp termination papers directly against his solid chest. “It’s over, Grant. The contract, the fake relationship, all of it. I can’t do this anymore p>
He didn’t even look at the papers. His golden-flecked eyes remained locked on my pale, tear-streaked face. “What happened p>
The dam broke. The horrifying truth I had just unearthed from the encrypted hospital files ripped its way out of my throat.
“I had a baby!” I screamed, the sound tearing through the quiet, luxurious hallway. “A pup! Seven years ago, I was attacked with silver, and they cut him out of me! And I forgot him! I forgot my own flesh and blood! I’m a monster, Grant p>
My legs gave out. I slid down the cold wall, burying my face in my hands as I sobbed hysterically. I waited for his shock. I waited for his political instincts to kick in, to distance himself from a broken, wolfless woman carrying a massive, devastating scandal.
But there was no shock. Through my tears, I looked up and saw him standing perfectly still. He was eerily, terrifyingly calm.
He crouched down, his massive hands gently but firmly pulling my wrists away from my face. I tried to pull back, babbling frantically about the scandal, about how my broken past would ruin his perfect political career.
“Listen to me,” Grant growled, his voice dropping into a heavy, vibrating frequency that made the floorboards hum. His eyes flashed a brilliant, predatory Lycan gold in the dim light. “There is no contract. There was never a contract. There is only us. And you. Are. Mine p>
He stood up, pulling me effortlessly to my feet. Without breaking eye contact, he ripped the termination papers in half and tossed them into the roaring stone fireplace. The flames devoured the paper in seconds, turning my only escape route to ash.