Chapter 94

The morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting golden streaks across the bedroom. Lillian stirred beneath the silk sheets, her body still humming with the remnants of last night’s passion. Beside her, Sebastian Blackwood lay sprawled, his muscular frame taking up most of the bed. His dark lashes fanned over his cheeks, his breathing deep and even.

She studied him, her heart swelling with a mix of awe and disbelief. How had she ended up here? Mated to the most powerful Lycan in the country, tangled in a web of politics, danger, and desire.

A soft knock at the door interrupted her thoughts.

"Come in," she murmured, pulling the sheet higher.

The door creaked open, and Oliver peeked inside, his bright blue eyes wide with excitement. "Lillian! Dad! Breakfast is ready!"

Sebastian groaned, rolling onto his back. "Five more minutes."

Lillian chuckled, ruffling Oliver’s hair. "We’ll be down soon, sweetheart."

The boy grinned before darting off, his footsteps echoing down the hall.

Sebastian cracked one eye open. "That child has more energy before dawn than I do all day."

Lillian smirked. "Maybe if you didn’t keep me up half the night—"

He pulled her against him, his lips brushing her ear. "Regrets?"

Heat flooded her cheeks. "Never."

A satisfied growl rumbled in his chest before he finally sat up, stretching. "We should get moving. Marcus has been texting me nonstop about the meeting with Alpha Voss."

Lillian’s smile faded. The tension between their pack and Maximilian Voss’s had been escalating for weeks. "Do you think he’ll actually agree to the truce?"

Sebastian’s jaw tightened. "If he knows what’s good for him."

She traced the scars along his shoulder, remnants of battles fought long before she’d entered his life. "Be careful."

He caught her hand, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. "Always."

Downstairs, the dining room buzzed with activity. Oliver chattered animatedly to Beatrice, who sipped her coffee with an amused smile. Theodore, the ever-efficient butler, set a plate of steaming pancakes in front of Lillian.

"Morning, Miss Lillian."

"Thank you, Theodore."

Sebastian took his seat at the head of the table, his phone already in hand. "Marcus, update me."

Lillian tuned out the business talk, focusing instead on Oliver’s enthusiastic retelling of his latest soccer game. But her peace was short-lived.

A sharp knock at the front door sent a ripple of tension through the room.

Theodore excused himself, returning moments later with a grim expression. "Alpha Blackwood, you have… unexpected guests."

Sebastian’s eyes darkened. "Who?"

Before Theodore could answer, the door burst open.

Evelyn stood in the doorway, her designer dress wrinkled, her face streaked with tears. Behind her, Donovan loomed, his expression thunderous.

Lillian’s fork clattered onto her plate.

"Sebastian," Donovan snarled. "We need to talk."

The air thickened with hostility.

Sebastian rose slowly, his voice dangerously calm. "You have exactly ten seconds to explain why you’re in my home."

Evelyn stepped forward, her hands trembling. "It’s Victoria. She’s missing."

Lillian’s blood ran cold.

Sebastian’s grip on the table tightened, the wood groaning under the pressure. "What do you mean, missing?"

Donovan’s gaze locked onto Lillian, his lips curling into a sneer. "She disappeared last night. And we both know who’s responsible."

The accusation hung in the air like a guillotine.

Lillian’s heart pounded. This wasn’t happening.

Sebastian’s growl shook the room. "Choose your next words very carefully."

Oliver whimpered, clutching Beatrice’s arm.

Lillian stood, her voice steady despite the storm inside her. "I had nothing to do with this."

Donovan’s laugh was bitter. "Funny. Because the last person she was seen with? Was you."

The room spun.

No.

This was a setup.

And she was walking right into it.

"Ugh, you brought your grubby little friend along? This isn't a charity shop," the woman sneered, her lip curling in disgust. "I'm calling secur—"

Before she could finish, the manager seized her arm and jerked her back so hard she nearly toppled over. Her startled gaze flickered around the room before landing on her boss.

"S-sir?" she stammered, struggling to regain her composure.

"Have you lost your damn mind?" he snarled. "Do you even know who you're speaking to?"

Victoria stepped beside me, arms crossed, her icy glare pinning them both in place. The air around her crackled with barely restrained fury, and for a moment, I considered inching away—her presence was overwhelming. But I stood my ground, rooted by sheer disbelief.

Her.

The manager forced a tight smile. "This is Victoria Blackwood," he muttered under his breath.

The woman—Maggie—went pale at the name. She whirled toward Victoria, bowing her head in a hasty, panicked gesture. "Miss Blackwood, I—I didn’t recognize you. My deepest apologies. It’s an honor to meet you," she gushed, her voice trembling.

Victoria didn’t so much as blink.

Ignoring Maggie completely, she turned to the manager.

"Is this how you train your staff, Vincent?" Her voice was lethally soft. "Do you honestly think my father would tolerate this kind of behavior?"

Vincent Moreau swallowed hard, his face draining of color. "Of course not," he said with a nervous laugh. "Maggie hasn’t been well lately—her judgment is impaired. I assure you, this won’t happen again."

Maggie, desperate, blurted, "I wasn’t trying to disrespect you—it was her!" She jabbed a finger at me. "She doesn’t belong in a place like this—"

"This woman," Victoria cut in, her voice sharp as a blade, "happens to be my dearest friend."

Maggie gasped, staggering back as if struck.

"Any insult toward her," Victoria continued, stepping forward, "is an insult to me."

"I—I had no idea—"

"And that excuses it?" Victoria snapped, her voice rising.

I’d never seen her like this—usually so composed, so effortlessly regal. But right now? She was every inch the ruthless heiress, and it was terrifying.

Not that they didn’t deserve it. The way they’d treated me was vile. Still, standing beside her while she burned this place down with her fury left me feeling… strange. Like I didn’t belong in her world, even as she fought to drag me into it.

"N... no, of course not," Maggie stammered, her eyes darting downward as her body trembled uncontrollably.

Victoria turned to the boutique manager, Vincent, her expression icy and unreadable.

"If you don’t handle this situation immediately, I’ll have no choice but to call my father," she said, her voice dripping with calculated menace. "And trust me, you won’t like the consequences if he has to step in."

Vincent swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing visibly. His face hardened as he turned his glare onto Maggie, his patience clearly at its limit.

"P-please," Maggie begged, her voice breaking. "I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to be disrespectful. I can change—I swear!"

Vincent’s expression didn’t soften. "It’s too late for apologies, Maggie. You’ve crossed a line, and this time, you’ve insulted the wrong people. Consider this a lesson—one you won’t forget. I can’t keep you employed here any longer. Finish their transactions, ensure they receive everything they’ve purchased, and then gather your belongings. You’re done."

Maggie’s breath hitched. "What?!"

Victoria tilted her head, feigning innocence with a saccharine smile. "I believe he just fired you. Don’t make this any more humiliating than it already is."

Maggie’s face twisted in shock, but she knew better than to argue. Any protest would only worsen her situation. Her gaze flickered toward me, and the sheer venom in her eyes sent a chill down my spine. Instinctively, I took a step back.

Then, as if flipping a switch, Victoria turned to me, her features softening instantly. The cold, ruthless heiress was gone, replaced by the warm, familiar girl I knew.