Chapter 258

Chapter 258:

I climbed the stairs with their eyes on my back like physical weights. My mother’s room was at the end of the hall, a place I had once thought of as a sanctuary. Now it was just another cell. The wallpaper was peeling in long, curling strips, and the air smelled of abandonment.

I set my bag on the bed and moved to the door, intending to lock it. That was when I heard the floorboards creak in the hallway.

I pressed my ear against the thin wood and held my breath.

“Is she presentable enough for someone like Volkov?” Maeve’s voice was a hushed hiss.

My blood ran cold. Volkov. The name Braydon had warned me about.

“He doesn’t care about pretty, Maeve,” Silas replied, his voice low and rough and vibrating with desperation. “He cares about her bloodline. A direct descendant of a White Wolf—even a wolfless one—is a rare prize p>

I clamped a hand over my mouth to stifle a gasp. White Wolf. The legendary lineage of the Moon Goddess’s chosen. I had always known my mother was special, but I was wolfless. I was broken. What could a loan shark possibly want with me?

“He believes the blood can be reactivated,” Silas continued, the greed in his tone turning my stomach. “If he breeds her, the offspring could be powerful. Worth millions on the black market p>

“And the debt?” Maeve asked.

“Wiped clean. Once she signs the trust release and Volkov takes her, we are free p>

I backed away from the door, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. They weren’t asking for a signature. They were selling me. I was livestock to them—a broodmare for a criminal.

Fiո𝘥 n𝘰𝘷е𝗹 𝖯DFѕ 𝘰ո ѕ.com

I needed to leave. Now.

But before I could formulate any plan at all, a heavy knock sounded at my door.

“Dinner is served, Adella,” Silas called out, his voice sickeningly cheerful.

I forced my limbs to stop trembling. If I didn’t open the door, they would know I had overheard them. I had to play my part. I had to buy time.

I opened the door. Silas stood there, offering his arm like a gentleman from a bygone era.

The dining hall was a tomb. A single candelabra cast long, dancing shadows up the walls. We sat at the long table in silence broken only by the scrape of silverware against chipped china.

“So,” Silas began, pouring himself a glass of wine with a trembling hand, “tell us about your life in the city. Any special someone p>

He was fishing. Checking whether anyone would come looking for me.

“Actually, yes,” I said, lifting my chin. “I’m seeing a businessman. He’s very powerful. Very protective p>

Maeve snorted into her soup. Silas’s eyes narrowed, and his smile returned—wider this time, revealing teeth that looked too sharp in the candlelight.

“A businessman,” he repeated, savoring the word. “How fitting. We have a businessman coming to visit tomorrow evening, as it happens. Mr. Jarred Volkov.” He leaned forward, the flame reflected in his predatory eyes. “He has a keen interest in our family’s unique assets. I told him you would be dying to meet him p>

The double meaning hung in the air between us like a guillotine blade.