Chapter 239
Chapter 239:
“Five minutes,” I said, my voice cold and flat. “Here. In the lobby. And then you disappear p>
Braydon exhaled, a sound of immense relief. But his eyes didn’t look relieved. They looked manic.
“Thank you,” he breathed, stepping closer.
I held my ground, arms crossed over my chest, unaware that I had just signed a contract for a war I wasn’t ready to fight.
“Five minutes,” I repeated, the words tasting like ash in my mouth. “Start talking p>
The lobby of The Aurelia was vast and imposing, a cathedral of glass and marble that amplified every sound. My voice, however, was swallowed by the sheer scale of the room. Braydon stood before me, his chest heaving, his eyes darting around as though he expected invisible enemies to leap from the shadows.
F𝗼l𝗅𝗈w 𝘶𝘴 o𝘯
“You have to understand, Adella,” he began, his voice a frantic whisper. He took a step closer, invading my space. “Katherine lied. She told me she was carrying a pup. My heir. But it was a trick. A trap to lock me down p>
I stared at him, revulsion curling deep in my gut. “So you shoved her? Because she lied p>
“I didn’t shove her! I was correcting her,” he insisted, his face twisting into a mask of self-righteous fury. “An Alpha must protect his bloodline. She tainted the Pack with her deceit. I had to show her authority p>
“You didn’t correct her, Braydon. You attacked her. You shoved her to the ground,” I said, my voice trembling not with fear, but with a sudden, clarifying rage. “You are not an Alpha. You are a bully p>
Braydon flinched as if I had struck him. The hurt in his eyes hardened quickly into something darker, something manipulative.
“Is that what you think of me? After everything I did for you?” He spread his arms wide. “I took you in when you were nothing. A wolfless orphan destined for the gutter. I gave you a home. I gave you a purpose. You owe me, Adella. You owe me your life p>
The old Adella—the girl who had spent ten years walking on eggshells—would have crumbled. She would have apologized, bowed her head, and accepted every ounce of guilt he shoveled onto her shoulders.
But that girl had died the moment Dallas Marshall touched me.
“I paid that debt,” I said, my voice cutting through the air like a whip. “I paid it with ten years of my silence. With every bruise you left on my skin, with every insult I swallowed, with every moment I spent terrified in your house. The account is closed p>
Braydon froze. He looked at me as though he were seeing a stranger. Then he leaned in, his nostrils flaring as he inhaled deeply, and his expression shifted from shock to pure, unadulterated disgust.