Chapter 52: The Sacred Meeting (2)
Damon let out a low chuckle. "But isn’t that exactly how this organization works?" He continued, "Money moves everything. Or have you conveniently forgotten the time you came to me, practically begging for extra funding for your mission?"
Barbara stiffened, but Damon didn’t press further. He didn’t need to. The weight of his words was already doing enough damage.
Truthfully, he wasn’t upset about the council questioning him over the rogue werewolves. That was their job. What grated on him was the constant disrespect—the way they insulted him at every turn, despite everything he had done for this organization.
The real reason they despised him had nothing to do with rogue werewolves. It was because he and his pack had become too powerful, too influential—an economic force that kept this organization running. And worst of all, he had the favor of the Elders.
The Elders had granted him unrestricted access to nearly everything—classified records, intelligence reports, even confidential information about other races. And that alone had made him a target.
Many in this room were just waiting for the moment he failed. They wanted to see him fall, to wipe that arrogant smile off his face. To prove that he wasn’t untouchable.
But was it arrogance if everything he said was simply the truth?
Damon wasn’t just some Alpha running a territory. He was one of the most powerful figures in this entire organization. And no matter how much they hated it, that was a fact they couldn’t change.
The councils in Northbridge city were nothing compared to him.
Damon grabbed his coat and strode toward the door, exuding the kind of confidence that made people either hate him or fear him. Just as he reached for the handle, he turned slightly, his voice calm but sharp enough to cut.
"Next time you want to insult me, remember this—I’m the one who poured water on your dry land." He tilted his head. "Don’t make me report your behavior to the Elders."