CHAPTER EIGHT — THE GIRL WHO RETURNED TO THE WOLVES

CHAPTER EIGHT — THE GIRL WHO RETURNED TO THE WOLVES

The Rose mansion was exactly as she remembered—cold marble, hollow halls, and a silence thick enough to choke on.

Once, she thought this place was home.

Now she saw it clearly.

A cage.

The kind gilded with family portraits and polished staircases, but still a cage all the same.

The guard at the gate didn’t stop her.

Of course he didn’t.

She used to come and go freely—until they turned her into a scapegoat and an inconvenience.

The moment she stepped inside, maids scattered like frightened birds.

Her footsteps carried straight to the living room.

It was almost laughable.

They were waiting for her.

Mrs. Rose sat on the long velvet sofa, posture perfect, chin raised as if she were receiving a criminal instead of her niece.

Her floral perfume filled the whole room—sweet, suffocating, fake.

Beside her stood Helena.

Still wearing yesterday’s entitlement like perfume.

Still clinging to the same smug expression, though it trembled at the edges.

And behind them—

Her younger brother, Liam.

Thin.

Quiet.

Eyes lowered.

Her heartbeat stuttered at the sight of him.

The past surged up in pieces—

his tear-streaked face,

his hoarse voice begging her not to leave him,

his final letter after she died in prison.

Sis, I’m sorry. I can’t fight them.

I tried. But I’m too small.

Her throat tightened.

No one spoke.

Then Mrs. Rose lifted her teacup.

The motion was calm, practiced.

“So,” she said lightly, “the runaway daughter finally remembers where she came from.”

Liana laughed.

Soft.

Unhurried.

Sharp enough to draw blood.

“I remember perfectly,” she said. “That’s why I’m here.”

Helena bristled. “Watch your tone. You should be thanking us. We raised you after your parents—”

“You raised me?” Liana cut in. “Is that what you call it?”

Helena’s lips thinned.

Mrs. Rose placed her cup down and folded her hands.

“We will overlook your behavior today,” she said coolly. “But you will apologize. And you will return home properly. Without causing unnecessary fuss.”

Liana tilted her head slightly.

“Return home? To what? The place where my inheritance vanished overnight? Or the place where my brother was told I abandoned him?”

“Mind your words,” Mrs. Rose snapped, losing her composure for the first time.

Liana smiled.

Perfectly polite.

Perfectly poisonous.

“I am minding them.”

She stepped forward.

Every maid in the hall stiffened.

“You stripped me of my assets. You isolated my brother. You let Helena treat me like a burden. And when I finally left, you slandered me, erased me, and used Liam to control the narrative.”

Mrs. Rose’s face turned white, then red.

“You ungrateful child—”

“Ungrateful?” Liana’s voice dropped into a cold whisper. “You locked away my mother’s letters. You forged my school records to make me look incompetent. You took my modeling earnings. And you dare call me ungrateful?”

Helena jumped in, voice shrill.

“There you go again—accusing the family that fed you! Without us, you’d be nothing!”

Liana turned.

Slowly.

Elegantly.

Her gaze sliced through Helena.

“Then let’s test that.”

Helena swallowed.

“I know every false receipt you filed under my name. Every piece of jewelry you pawned. Every private call you made to Adrian’s family pretending to ‘manage’ his household during my absence.”

Helena staggered back.

“You—how did—?”

Liana didn’t answer.

She didn’t need to.

Her silence cut deeper than words.

Mrs. Rose slammed her palm down on the table.

“That’s enough! You think you can talk like this? You insignificant girl—without us, even your marriage to Adrian—”

The air shifted.

Chilled.

Heavy.

Liana’s pupils narrowed slightly.

Ah.

There it was.

The slip.

The Rose family had always believed they owned her.

That they had the right to shape her life, her marriage, her future.

And in her first life… they had succeeded.

She took a step closer to Mrs. Rose, voice soft enough to be terrifying.

“Say his name again,” she murmured, “and let’s see who truly owns what anymore.”

Mrs. Rose stiffened.

Helena’s mouth fell open.

Liam, behind them, raised his eyes for the first time—hope flickering, small and trembling.

The tension snapped like a taut string.

“Liana.”

Mrs. Rose’s voice was shaking now.

“You will not walk out of this house with that attitude.”

“Really?” she said.

She turned.

Walked toward her brother.

He didn’t move.

Didn’t speak.

She knelt before him, lifting his chin with gentle fingers.

“Do you want to leave with me?” she asked quietly.

His small hands trembled.

His lips parted.

But before he could answer—

The front doors burst open.

A gust of cold air swept through the hall.

Bootsteps echoed—slow, steady, lethal.

Every head snapped toward the entrance.

Adrian Jin walked in.

Tall.

Sharp-eyed.

Still in the hospital two piece under a hastily thrown coat.

He looked like a man who had torn out his own IVs, ignored every doctor, and hunted his way here through sheer instinct.

His gaze locked onto Liana instantly.

The world fell silent.

Mrs. Rose froze.

Helena stumbled back.

Even the guards at the door swallowed in fear.

Adrian didn’t look at any of them.

Not once.

He walked straight to her.

Not rushed.

Not frantic.

Just… inevitable.

He stopped before her and her brother.

His voice was low, dark, shaking with something primal:

“Liana.”

She met his eyes.

Calm.

Unmoved.

His fingers twitched, as if restraining himself from grabbing her.

“You left,” he said softly. “You weren’t there when I woke.”

His voice cracked at the end.

Not with weakness.

With the kind of desperation that could topple empires.

Mrs. Rose finally found her voice.

“Mr. Jin—this is a private family conversation—”

Adrian’s eyes slid toward her.

Cold.

Flat.

Expressionless.

Mrs. Rose stopped breathing.

He returned his gaze to Liana.

Word by word, he said:

“Come with me.”

She didn’t answer.

Instead, she took her brother’s hand.

And at that moment, Adrian’s expression changed—dangerously.

He looked at the boy.

Then at Liana.

Then back at the boy.

Understanding.

Recognition.

Possession.

He extended a hand.

“To both of you.”

Silence.

Shattered.

Absolute.

And the Rose family realized:

They just lost everything.