Rejected by the Alpha, Claimed by his Brother
Chapter 102: _Where Are My Pigs?
I snapped my fingers, cloaking both myself and the corpse in the shadows. The night stretched out before me, and with Ernesto slung over my shoulder like a sack of rotten potatoes, I made my way toward Don Diego’s villa.
But when I arrived at the pigsty...
I stopped dead in my tracks.
What.
The.
Fuck.
The pigs.
They were gone.
My fingers twitched like I was about to convulse. My brain refused to process it. The pen was empty—just scattered straw and a few muddy prints in the dirt.
I almost choked on my rage.
Where were my pigs?
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