Chapter 101
Christian sat in his private study, his fingers drumming a slow, hypnotic beat against the polished mahogany desk. The low glow of his laptop screen highlighted the sharp, severe angles of his face, casting long shadows over the walls.
Across from him, Syrus sat rigid, his scent sharp with concern. Lucas sat to his left, his shoulders tense as he leaned over a map of the territory.
"Did your trackers find the rat who rigged the SUV?" Syrus’s voice broke the silence, heavy with urgency.
"The executioner was eliminated, but he was just a hired hand," Christian replied, pinching the bridge of his nose as a dull throb began behind his temples. "He wasn’t the mastermind."
"Then who is pulling the strings?" Syrus pressed, leaning forward.
"The trail is still obscured," Lucas interjected before the Alpha could answer. "But the biometric leaks on the security grid suggest it’s someone very close to the pack’s inner circle."
Syrus’s jaw tightened. "That’s a lethal threat, Christian. If the mole is within your own ranks, your life is in danger until we put them down. You can’t afford to let your guard down."
Christian’s expression remained a cold, unreadable mask, his eyes shifting slightly in the dim light. "I’m not worried about myself. No rogue or traitor is strong enough to take my head," he gritted out, his voice dropping into a dangerous, gravelly register. "But those close to me are vulnerable. They are walking targets simply because of my scent on them."
Syrus didn’t need him to say the names. He knew the Alpha was speaking of Fleur and the pups.
"But whoever is orchestrating this is getting arrogant," Christian continued, a dark, mocking smile touching his lips. "And arrogance breeds mistakes. I’ve laid a trap, and we will draw them out soon."
Whoever had targeted his bloodline had severely underestimated the depths of an Alpha’s savagery. Once he scented the culprit, they wouldn’t even have time to beg for mercy. The sheer, predatory coldness in his features at that moment was enough to make even his seasoned Beta shift uncomfortably.
Suddenly, Christian’s phone chimed, cutting through the murderous tension in the room. He glanced down, and the harsh lines of his face instantly softened. The screen lit up with a notification from Fleur. He let out a slow, ragged breath as he unlocked the device.
For the past week, Fleur had been demanding his presence at the new estate, where she was finalizing the security and interior layouts. She needed his approval on the spatial boundaries. But Christian had consistently deflected, forcing her to coordinate the project alone.
In truth, he didn’t trust his own wolf around her. He knew that the moment he breathed in her sweet, intoxicating scent, his resolve would crumble. He was intentionally playing the cold, unreachable tyrant, hoping she and the pups would grow to despise him. It was the only way to make them run far enough away to survive his enemies.
His heart hammered against his ribs as he read her message:
Are you actually showing up today, Mr. Wayne? I have been waiting for days to confirm the final perimeter layout.
He could feel the biting frustration in her words, but he forced himself to harden his heart. If he had to be the villain in her story to keep her breathing, he would play the part perfectly. He quickly typed a brief, indifferent reply:
I trust your judgment. Complete the layout and finalize the estate as soon as possible. Handle the remaining details yourself. I’m occupied.
He pressed send and tossed the phone onto the desk, the brief warmth in his eyes completely locking away behind a wall of ice. He turned his attention back to his men.
"Alpha, the bait is set, and the sentries are stationed along the northern border as instructed," Lucas reported.
"Good. Let’s see if the rat takes the lure," Christian murmured, his mind already calculating the variables.
Lucas offered a brief bow and exited the room, leaving only the Alpha and his closest friend.
"I should get moving as well," Syrus said, pushing back his chair and standing up. "My mother is expecting me at the ancestral estate today," he added, his tone laced with annoyance.
"What’s the issue?" Christian asked, noting the dark cloud hovering over his friend’s scent.
"The usual," Syrus sighed, running a hand through his hair. "My cousins are circling the family inheritance like vultures, and my mother is convinced that if I just take a mate and present an heir, I can claim the legal rights to the lineage business and wealth."
"And what does your wolf want?" Christian asked, a thick brow arching.
"My wolf wants peace, and I want nothing to do with a forced mating," Syrus shrugged. "My private firm is highly successful. I pull in more capital on my own than the family estate does in a year. I don’t need their blood money."
Christian let out a low, rare chuckle. Hearing Syrus’s complaints was like listening to an echo of his own past.
He knew the relentless hunger for power that plagued noble families. There was a time when he, too, had chased dominance and territorial expansion. But after losing his family, he had realized that all the gold and land in the world meant nothing. The only thing that truly mattered was the unconditional bond of a mate—and that was the one thing he was currently forcing himself to destroy.
Christian leaned back in his leather chair, a faint, bittersweet smile touching his lips. "I won’t keep you, then. Good luck with your mother."
"Yeah, I’ll need it," Syrus muttered with a wry smile, his footsteps echoing down the quiet corridor as he departed.
Left alone in the silence of his office, Christian’s gaze drifted back to his phone. There was no reply from Fleur. No acknowledgment, no angry comeback. Just a heavy, definitive silence.
"Well... What did you expect, Mr. Wayne? The nightmare just keeps repeating itself."