Chapter 391
Sitting in the study of the Hyde estate, I slid a heavy paper check across the mahogany desk. Suki snatched it up, her eyes widening at the string of zeros. She was still wearing that face — her face. The illusion had served its purpose perfectly, planting the ultimate seed of betrayal in the Alpha’s mind, but now, staring at this cheap imitation made my skin crawl.
“Is it true?” Suki asked, her voice trembling slightly as she tucked the check away. “About Dallas’s crash? People are saying it wasn’t an accident.”
“What happens to Dallas Marshall is an unfortunate tragedy that has nothing to do with us,” I said smoothly, leaning back in my leather chair. “Now take the money, go on a long vacation, and get rid of that face. Change it back.”
Suki hesitated, her hand hovering over her cheek. “But… I could make a fortune looking like the Luna of the Blackwood Pack. Clients pay top dollar for—”
My wolf snarled. I lunged forward, slamming a dagger engraved with the Hyde Pack crest into the desk, the blade biting deep into the wood just an inch from her fingers. Suki shrieked and stumbled backward.
“You are a cheap, disposable copy,” I hissed, letting my killing intent flood the room. “If you don’t change that face yourself, I will use this dagger to do it for you. Do you understand?”
Pale and shaking, Suki nodded frantically before turning and fleeing the study.
I pulled the dagger from the wood, tracing the edge of the blade. “There is only one Adella,” I whispered to the empty room. “And she is coming home.”
Adelia POV
The foyer of the penthouse in Marshall Tower felt like a freezer. For three agonizing days, I had been drowning in silence. No calls, no messages, no sign of him. Just the hollow echo of my own fear.
When the private elevator finally chimed, I practically threw myself toward the doors. But it wasn’t my Mate. It was Duncan Whitaker.
“Where is he?” I demanded, my voice raw. “Is Dallas alive?”
Duncan stepped out, his posture rigid. The usual warmth in his eyes had been replaced by chilling, absolute contempt. “He’s alive,” he said, his tone clipped. “But he doesn’t want to see you.”
I froze. “What are you talking about? I need to see him. I know something happened that night—”
“What happened is that your betrayal broke him,” Duncan interrupted, his words mechanical, as if he were reciting a script that tasted like ash in his own mouth. “The Alpha has traveled to the Northern territory to stay with his grandmother, Gigi. He needs time away from you to reevaluate things.”
“Reevaluate?” I gasped, the absurdity of it hitting me like a physical blow. Dallas was fiercely possessive — he would never simply walk away.
Duncan reached into his jacket and pulled out a sleek black credit card, dropping it onto the marble floor between us. “He left this for you. Buy whatever you want. Just stay out of Pack business.”
“I don’t want his money!” I screamed, kicking the card away. “I want him!”
Duncan ignored me. He walked past, collected a few of Dallas’s personal items from the hall table as supposed proof of his departure, and stepped back into the elevator. The doors slid shut, leaving me alone with the echoing silence.