Chapter 357
She gestured toward me without looking away from him. “Her silence holds more strength than your pathetic howls ever did. She is the future of this family. You are a relic of its failures.”
Gigi leaned in, baring her teeth in a snarl that was entirely wolf. “Speak of her status again, and I will strip you of your title and your tongue.”
Marcus recoiled as if struck, his mouth snapping shut. He was trembling visibly now, the sour scent of his fear intensifying until it was nearly choking.
I stood frozen, my heart pounding against my ribs. I had expected to fight for my place here. I had expected to be the outsider. I never imagined that the woman who once looked at me with disdain would become the shield that broke my enemies.
Dallas squeezed my waist — a silent pulse of pride.
“Come,” Gigi commanded, turning her back on the Hydes as if they no longer existed. “Lunch is served. We have a war to plan.”
We followed her into the formal dining room. The long ebony table was set with crystal and silver, gleaming beneath the cold light of the chandelier. Gigi took the head of the table without hesitation. Dallas sat at her right, and I took the seat beside him. The Hydes, looking like ghosts, took the seats at the far end — as far from the Matriarch as the table allowed.
Servants moved silently, pouring wine. No one drank. The tension in the room was a physical weight.
Gigi didn’t bother with a toast. She placed her hands flat on the table and looked at each of us in turn. Her gaze lingered on me for a moment — not with warmth, but with a steely acknowledgment.
“We are here to cleanse this house of a traitor’s legacy,” she began, her tone devoid of emotion. “Kaelen Marshall left rot in the foundation of this family. We thought we had cut it out, but roots run deep.”
She paused, letting the silence stretch until it was painful.
“Our hunt begins today,” Gigi declared. “Not with a Rogue, or an external enemy. It begins with the serpent he left hiding in our own treasury.” She picked up her wine glass, the red liquid swirling like blood. “A daughter,” she said, the word landing like a stone in still water. “Named Cassia.”
The name hung in the air, heavy with the promise of violence. Across the table, Marcus and Victoria exchanged a confused, terrified glance. They had no idea who Cassia was, but they understood one thing with absolute certainty.
The slaughter had begun.
The name Cassia hung in the air like smoke from a snuffed candle, choking the remaining oxygen from the room. I didn’t know who she was, but the sheer venom in Gigi’s tone suggested a history written in blood.