Chapter 493
She wore a bright red, scandalously cut dress that left little to the imagination. The Parrish family had once been a noble bloodline, but Dallas had dismantled their empire months ago. Katherine—the elder sister, the one who had tried to kill me with silver cake—had been sent to a rehabilitation colony in the north. Chelsi had been left behind, a fallen princess still clinging to the wreckage of her former status, desperate to reclaim what her sister had lost.
Her eyes, when they landed on me, burned with the same jealousy that had fueled her cruelty back in university. Some things never changed.
“The rejected wolfless,” Chelsi sneered, stepping into my path to block the elevators. Her gaze raked over my simple blazer and slacks with utter disdain. “Reduced to peddling advice to survive. Did you really think you could recommend a nobody like Livia Thorne and just walk away?”
I kept my breathing steady, refusing to give her the satisfaction of a reaction. I needed this victory—needed to feel the armor I had just forged hold firm.
“I am simply advising the Alpha,” I said, my tone perfectly level. “Livia is a good choice for the Pack. You, on the other hand, are desperate. Braydon can smell that from a mile away.”
Her eyes flashed with feral fury, her lips pulling back to bare her teeth.
I stepped around her and pressed the button for the private elevator. As the doors slid open, I paused and let my gaze sweep over her revealing outfit, my eyes cold and deliberate.
“That color on you,” I murmured, my voice carrying softly in the quiet hallway. “It screams desperation. An Alpha notices that from a mile away.”
Chelsi went deathly pale. Her hands balled into fists at her sides, her entire body trembling with a rage she couldn’t unleash in the CEO’s hallway.
I stepped into the elevator and turned around, holding her furious glare until the metal doors slid shut and cut her off entirely.
The moment the latch clicked, my knees buckled.
I slumped against the freezing metal wall, the adrenaline draining from my veins. I stared at my pale reflection in the mirrored panel. I had won the battle—but the cold, calculating woman staring back at me made my stomach churn. I closed my eyes, desperate to get out of this building, out of this territory, and simply breathe real air again.
The heavy glass doors of Hyde Industries slid shut behind me, cutting off the suffocating, climate-controlled air of the lobby. I stepped onto the concrete sidewalk and drew a deep, shuddering breath of the city’s exhaust-filled breeze. It wasn’t the fresh pine of a forest, but right now, it tasted like freedom.
My brief moment of peace was shattered by the screech of tires.
A bright red Porsche convertible swerved violently toward the curb, its front right tire aggressively mounting the edge of the sidewalk. The driver’s door flew open before the engine even died.
Chelsi Parrish stormed out. Her heels clicked sharply against the pavement, her movements jerky with barely contained fury. The expensive perfume she wore couldn’t mask the sharp, sour edge of desperation clinging to her.