Chapter 479
Chapter 479:
The heavy oak door opened. Grant walked in, his suffocating scent of rosemary and rain filling the room.
“Grant,” I breathed, my hands trembling as I pushed my hair back. “I remember. I remember everything. Arthur Sterling — he blackmailed me seven years ago. He had proof of my father’s crimes. I had to reject you to save my Pack from the Council p>
I waited for his Lycan to explode. I waited for the room to shake with his murderous rage against the human who had stolen our lives.
Instead, Grant walked calmly to the edge of the bed and sat down. His expression was terrifyingly placid.
“I know,” he murmured, his voice a smooth, vibrating rumble.
𝗧𝗵𝘰𝗎𝗌𝖺ո𝖽s оf rе𝖺𝗱𝘦𝘳𝘀 о𝗻
I froze. “You know p>
“Since the reception in New York two weeks ago,” Grant said, his dark eyes locking onto mine. “Your trauma response to Arthur was visceral. I put my Shadow Network on him immediately p>
A cold, sickening chill washed over my skin. He had known for two weeks. He had watched me suffer in silent terror, meticulously calculating his moves while I drowned in confusion.
“The evidence Arthur held was real, Carmella,” Grant continued, his tone clinical and detached. “Your father did commit that blood crime. But my legal team is already maneuvering. We will secure leniency for your remaining family in exchange for your testimony to destroy Arthur p>
My breath hitched. My noble sacrifice had been built on actual sins, and Grant had effortlessly seized control of the entire narrative. He wasn’t merely a victim of Arthur’s plot — he was the puppet master of the aftermath.
I needed to know if there was a single shred of uncalculated truth left between us.
“There is something else,” I said, my voice dropping to a fragile whisper. I forced myself to look directly into his golden-flecked eyes. “Jaxon. He isn’t adopted. I ran a DNA test before we got married. He is my biological son. Our pup p>
I stared at his face, bracing for the earth-shattering shock of a father realizing his dead child was alive.
For a fraction of a second, the flawless mask slipped.
There was no shock. There was no disbelief. Instead, a chilling, absolute, predatory victory flashed in his eyes — the icy satisfaction of a king watching his final, most crucial chess piece fall exactly where he had placed it. His Lycan Inner Wolf practically purred with dark triumph.
A heartbeat later, the mask slammed back into place. Grant’s eyes widened, filling with rehearsed, overwhelming joy.
“Carmella — my god,” he breathed, pulling me fiercely into his massive chest. “Our son. He’s our son p>
I let him hold me, my cheek pressed against his racing heart. But my wolfless body went completely numb. The man holding me hadn’t just discovered a miracle. He had known all along. Every tear, every moment of grief over the past seven years, and every step that had led me into this marriage had been a meticulously orchestrated cage.