Chapter 473
“I’m sorry, Ms. Everett,” the receptionist’s voice was clipped and robotic. “By direct command of the Alpha King, we cannot accept your calls.”
Click.
He was erasing me. Dallas was systematically wiping my existence from his kingdom, cutting every tie I had to the Pack.
My phone buzzed in my hand. A FaceTime call from Azalea. I answered quickly. She was sitting in a human salon, foils in her hair, but her eyes were frantic.
“Adella, it’s chaos here,” she whispered, glancing around. “Gigi locked herself in the East Wing. She’s threatening to call an emergency Elders meeting to temporarily strip Dallas of his Alpha command. She says he’s mentally unstable.”
“Where is he?” I asked, hating how my heart still stuttered at his name.
“Hiding,” Azalea scoffed bitterly.
The bedroom door clicked open before I could ask anything else. I ended the call quickly. Braydon strolled in, carrying a plate of sliced fruit. He had clearly been eavesdropping.
“I can help you, Addie,” he murmured, stepping closer. “I’ll personally fund the recovery of your parents’ territory. All I ask is for a chance.”
He leaned in, his eyes gleaming with predatory hunger. “Why fight for a man who is currently recovering in a private cabin with his new Warrior, Yara?”
The name felt like a silver blade twisting in my ribs. Dallas wasn’t hiding from Gigi — he was playing house with his mistress while he destroyed my life. But I refused to break in front of the serpent who had helped ruin my family.
“I don’t want your money, Braydon,” I said, my voice cold and steady. “And I don’t want you.”
I grabbed my coat and marched out of the suite, leaving him standing there. I needed to go to Marshall Tower and demand my physical research files in person. I wouldn’t let Dallas take my life’s work.
But as I stepped out of the grand foyer and onto the freezing driveway, my stomach dropped. My car was gone.
Shivering in the biting wind, I pulled out my phone to order a ride.
Payment Declined.
Frowning, I logged into my personal banking app. A red banner blazed across the screen: Account Frozen — Pack Asset Dispute.
Dallas hadn’t just fired me. He had weaponized Pack law to freeze my personal savings, claiming my income during our bond was Pack property. He wanted me penniless, starving, and crawling back to whatever cage he deemed fit.
I stood alone in the freezing cold, completely stripped of my mate, my career, and my money. But as the icy air filled my lungs, the despair burned away into pure, unadulterated rage.
I wasn’t going to crawl. I was going to fight.