Chapter 494
“You think you’re clever?” she snarled, marching into my space. Her eyes were wild, her chest heaving. “Livia Thorne? A nobody with no connections, no spine, no power? That’s who you chose to put in front of Braydon?”
I didn’t step back. I glanced down at her mud-splattered designer heels—she must have walked through the planter on her way out—then slowly met her furious gaze.
“Livia is stable,” I said, my voice flat. “She won’t betray him. She won’t drag his Pack into ruin. You, on the other hand, come with the Parrish name attached. That name is ash, Chelsi. Braydon knows it. The whole Pack knows it.”
The color drained from her face, only to return in a violent, mottled flush of rage. Her hands balled into fists at her sides.
“You did this,” she hissed, her voice trembling. “You told him to pick her. You sabotaged me because you can’t stand the thought of anyone else being happy.”
“I told him the truth,” I corrected, my voice icy. “You are a liability. Your sister tried to kill me and lost everything. The Parrish name is a curse now. Braydon would be a fool to tie himself to it.”
A low, guttural growl tore from Chelsi’s throat. But instead of lunging, she pulled her phone from her designer clutch, a cruel smirk twisting her lips.
“You think you’re so untouchable,” she said, her voice dropping to a venomous whisper. “Playing the independent victim. But you’re just a pathetic stray still leashed to her master.” She shoved the screen into my face.
It was a photograph of the street directly across from my university campus. Parked in the shadows was an unmarked, heavily tinted black SUV. I recognized the reinforced chassis and the subtle matte-black rims immediately. It belonged to the Marshall Group’s elite security fleet.
“My contact inside Dallas’s network was very generous with this intel,” Chelsi purred, her eyes gleaming with toxic delight. “He’s been watching you like a stalker, little stray. You’re not free. You’re just a pet he keeps in a cage while he plays with his new Warrior. He doesn’t want you. He just doesn’t want anyone else to have you.”
The world tilted. The noise of the city traffic faded into a dull roar. My lungs seized as though all the oxygen had been sucked from the street. The fragile independence I had fought so hard to build—the late nights studying, the cheap apartment—it was all an illusion. Dallas was still watching. Still controlling me from the shadows.
“Let’s see what you’re texting him, you hypocritical whore!” Chelsi suddenly lunged, her manicured hands grabbing at the strap of my tote bag.
“Get off me!” I snapped, jolting out of my shock.
I yanked the bag back. I was wolfless, lacking her supernatural strength, but pure adrenaline fueled my resistance. We grappled on the sidewalk, the canvas of my bag tearing with a loud rip.
A thick, cream-colored envelope tumbled out and hit the concrete with a heavy thud.