Chapter 474

Adella POV

The freezing wind off the New York streets whipped my hair across my face as I stared up at the monolithic black glass and steel of Marshall Tower. I had scraped together the last few crumpled dollar bills in my coat pocket for the subway fare, fueled by pure, unadulterated spite. I needed my physical research files and restoration tools for the Moonstone Ridge project — they were the only leverage I had left to prove my worth.

I marched up to the massive revolving glass doors and pressed my ID badge against the security scanner.

Instead of the familiar green chime, a harsh red light flashed. Access Denied.

I swiped it again. Red.

Through the heavy glass, I could see Phoebe, the young Omega receptionist who used to greet me with a warm smile every morning. She sat at the front desk, her face deathly pale. The moment our eyes met, she flinched like a frightened rabbit and immediately dropped her gaze to her keyboard, too terrified to acknowledge my existence.

Before I could knock on the glass, the side security door pushed open just enough for a mountain of muscle to fill the gap. He was a Dire Guard Warrior clad in black tactical gear, standing there like an executioner.

“This is a direct command from the Alpha King,” the Warrior stated, his voice completely devoid of emotion. “Any attempt to enter will be seen as a challenge to his authority. We will respond accordingly.”

I stood frozen on the pavement. The biting wind chilled the tears of humiliation before they could even form in my eyes. Pack members walking past cast me glances filled with morbid curiosity and pity. Dallas wasn’t just rejecting me — he was systematically erasing my existence from the kingdom he had built.

I had nowhere to go. No money. No home. No Pack.

But I still had one card left to play.

I pulled out my phone and dialed the number I had memorized months ago — the private line of Eleanor “Gigi” Marshall.

It rang four times. I was about to give up when the line clicked open.

“Speak.” Gigi’s voice was clipped, but I heard the faint tremor beneath it.

“Gigi, it’s Adella. I need to see you. Please.”

A long silence stretched across the line. Then the sound of a heavy sigh.

“The East Wing. Use the service entrance. The staff will let you in. Don’t let anyone see you.”

The line went dead.

I stared at the phone for a moment, then looked back at the tower that had locked me out. Dallas thought he could erase me — freeze my accounts, cut me off from everything I had built. But he had forgotten one thing. I was still Adella Everett. I had survived ten years in the Hyde household. I had survived his rejection. I would survive this too.

I turned my back on Marshall Tower and walked toward the subway station, toward the ancient stone fortress of the Marshall bloodline. I had nothing left to lose, and I was ready to strike a match.

Adella

Marshall Manor loomed ahead like a medieval fortress, its ancient stone walls radiating centuries of power and bloodlines. I stepped out into the biting wind and marched up the grand stone steps. I had nothing left to lose.