Chapter 178

The crisp autumn air carried the scent of fallen leaves as Lillian stepped onto the balcony of Sebastian Blackwood’s mansion. The golden hues of twilight painted the sky, casting long shadows across the sprawling estate. She exhaled slowly, her breath forming a faint mist in the cool evening.

Inside, the murmur of voices drifted from the grand hall. The annual Lycan Summit was in full swing, and tensions simmered beneath the polished veneer of diplomacy. Lillian’s fingers tightened around the railing. She could feel Donovan’s presence even before she heard his voice.

"Running away already?" His tone was laced with mock amusement.

Lillian didn’t turn. "Just needed some air."

Donovan moved closer, his cologne—something expensive and woodsy—filling the space between them. "You always did prefer solitude."

She finally faced him, her gaze steady. "And you always preferred an audience."

A smirk tugged at his lips. "Still sharp as ever."

Before she could retort, the balcony doors slid open, and Evelyn stepped out, her arm slipping possessively through Donovan’s. "There you are," she purred, her eyes flicking to Lillian with barely concealed disdain. "The Alpha of the Silvermoon Pack was asking for you."

Donovan’s expression shifted, the playful glint in his eyes hardening. "Duty calls."

As they disappeared back inside, Lillian’s wolf stirred restlessly. She had almost forgotten how suffocating pack politics could be.

A familiar voice broke through her thoughts. "You look like you could use a drink."

Beatrice appeared beside her, holding out a glass of champagne. Lillian accepted it with a grateful smile. "Thanks."

Beatrice leaned against the railing, her gaze following Donovan and Evelyn’s retreating figures. "He’s still insufferable, isn’t he?"

Lillian took a sip, the bubbles tickling her throat. "Some things never change."

A comfortable silence settled between them before Beatrice nudged her shoulder. "Come on. Sebastian’s about to make his speech. You don’t want to miss it."

Lillian hesitated, her eyes drifting back to the horizon. Something in the air felt charged, like the calm before a storm.

Beatrice noticed her hesitation. "What’s wrong?"

Lillian shook her head. "Nothing. Just a feeling."

But as they re-entered the hall, the weight of unseen eyes followed her. Someone was watching. And they weren’t friendly.

"I would never betray your trust, Lillian," Beatrice assured me, her voice steady and sincere. "You know you can count on me." Her words eased the tension in my shoulders, and I sank deeper into the plush café chair. It felt liberating to finally voice everything that had been weighing on my heart. Having Beatrice by my side, someone I could confide in without hesitation, was a comfort I hadn’t realized I needed so badly.

"So, you’re living with him now?" she asked, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

I sighed, swirling my coffee absently. "Apparently, Sebastian has another estate within his territory. He insisted I move in immediately."

Beatrice didn’t even blink. "Of course he does. He’s Sebastian Blackwood—wealth practically drips from his fingertips. That mansion probably isn’t even his only spare."

I nodded, then hesitated before continuing. "He went to the Winslow estate for dinner, trying to establish some kind of rapport with them. But when he saw how they treated me—like some kind of servant—he lost it. Next thing I knew, he was ordering me to relocate to his home."

Beatrice’s eyes widened, her lips parting as if she were about to let out an excited squeal, but she caught herself just in time, clearing her throat instead. I went on, explaining how I had wanted my mother to come with me, but she had stubbornly refused, insisting she needed to stay. Beatrice listened intently, sipping her latte as I unraveled the tangled threads of my life.

"So, he doesn’t know about the financial mess?" she finally asked.

I shook my head, then paused, reconsidering. "He knows I need money. He’s not stupid—he’s probably guessed my family isn’t doing well. But he doesn’t know the extent of it. He has no idea my father is in prison."

Beatrice frowned. "Lillian, the Blackwood Corporation funds half the businesses in the Lycan territories. Why not just tell him? He could fix this with a snap of his fingers."

I exhaled sharply, running a hand through my hair. "My father is too proud. Years ago, he presented a business proposal to Alpha Sebastian, and it was rejected. After that, he refused to seek help from the Lycans again. He wanted to prove he could succeed on his own." My voice dropped to a murmur. "Instead, he turned to loan sharks. Borrowed more than the business was worth. And when the interest piled up… well, you know how that ended."

Beatrice leaned forward. "But Sebastian could help. If you just asked—"

"I can’t," I cut in, biting my lip hard. "I’m embarrassed, okay? I don’t want him looking down on my family. And I doubt he even remembers rejecting my father’s proposal. If I bring it up now, he’ll ask questions—why wasn’t this business Lycan-funded? What went wrong? I don’t have answers that won’t make my father look reckless."

Beatrice sighed, shaking her head with a small, knowing smile. "You’re just like him, you know that? Too proud for your own good."

I didn’t argue. Because she was right.

I nodded in agreement because she was absolutely right, and deep down, I knew it.

"I can't wait to see this mansion. You will invite me over sometime, right?" Beatrice asked, her brows lifting playfully.

"Of course," I promised, grinning. "Now that you know everything, you can drop by whenever you want." She clapped her hands together, her excitement practically vibrating through the air.

"Okay, but wait—there's more exciting news," she said, leaning in conspiratorially. "Did Sebastian tell you about what's happening next week?" My frown deepened before I shook my head. I hadn’t spoken to him much these past few days, so I was completely out of the loop.

"What’s going on?" I asked, curiosity prickling at my skin.

"He signed a contract with a film crew," she whispered, eyes gleaming. "They’re shooting an entire movie right here in his pack!"

Working at the most luxurious resort in werewolf territory, it didn’t surprise me that Beatrice had insider information. The elite loved to gossip, and she always had her ear to the ground.

"That’s actually incredible," I murmured, already imagining the possibilities. What kind of story would they film here?

But Beatrice wasn’t done. "Oh, that’s not even the best part," she said, voice dropping to a hushed whisper. "The lead actress is Celeste Devereaux, Lillian!"

My jaw nearly hit the floor.

"What?" I choked out, my pulse skyrocketing. The queen of Hollywood—here?

She nodded wildly. "Yes!" she squealed. "She’s arriving next week!"

Next. Week.

Celeste Devereaux—the most stunning, sought-after actress and supermodel—was coming here? To Sebastian’s pack?!

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