Chapter 222
Chapter 222:
I shifted into gear — the stick smooth as silk — and pulled away from the curb. The car handled heavily, not like a lightweight sports car, but like a tank disguised as a convertible. It felt solid. Impenetrable.
I turned onto 4th Street, the morning traffic light. My mind was racing. This wasn’t a scrap car. This was a restoration project worth more than my entire life’s earnings combined.
Distracted by the dashboard, I didn’t see the pothole until it was too late. I braced for impact, jerking the wheel.
“Pothole detected. Left p>
The voice came from the speakers — low, calm, synthesized, but unmistakably masculine. That cadence. That authoritative drop in pitch.
It was Dallas.
I slammed on the brakes. The car came to a jarring halt. My heart hammered against my ribs as I stared at the dashboard. There, embedded in the center console where a generic logo should have been, sat a small circular button made of black obsidian. Etched into the stone was the profile of a roaring Dire Wolf.
𝖣𝘰𝗐𝗻𝗹o𝘢𝘥 P𝗗𝗙ѕ f𝘳𝗲𝘦 оn.с𝗈𝗺
The Marshall family crest.
This wasn’t a gift from Azalea. It was a fortress on wheels, built by the Alpha who was simultaneously terrifying and thrilling me in equal measure.
I drove back slowly, my hands trembling on the warm leather wheel. When I pulled up, Azalea was waiting, a hopeful grin on her face.
I cut the engine. The silence in the cabin felt heavy.
“It’s a nice car, Azalea,” I said, stepping out. I looked her dead in the eye. “But I’m not taking charity p>
“Adella p>
“So,” I interrupted, my voice steady, “I will pay you rent for it. Two hundred a month. That’s my offer for your ‘one-dollar’ car p>
Azalea blinked, surprised. Then relief washed over her features. “Deal. Two hundred. Totally fair.” She turned away slightly, her eyes glazing over with the milky sheen I had come to recognize.
“He says—” She caught herself. “I mean, I say that’s acceptable.” She flashed a guilty smile.
I looked back at the cream Mercedes sitting in the morning sun, gleaming innocently — a predator in elegant clothing.
“Fine,” I whispered, more to the car than to her.
I walked toward the building entrance, feeling the weight of the key in my pocket. It sat heavy against my palm, like a promise.
Or a shackle.
It felt like the car was guarding me. Just like he was.
Dallas
The dot on the screen was a creamy white pixel, moving sluggishly through the clogged arteries of the city’s morning rush. To anyone else, it was just a GPS signal. To me, it was the only thing in the world that mattered.
I stood in the center of the War Room, the penthouse’s climate control set to a chill that would make a normal man shiver. But my blood was running hot, fueled by the restless pacing of my Lycan beast. He didn’t like her being this far away — even if “far” was only a few miles of asphalt.
“You gave her the Ghost p>