Chapter 4

Ariana’s POV

By the time my eyes cracked open, the room was swallowed in black.

I slowly got out of bed, the darkness of the night enveloped me, and a splitting headache greeted me.

I whined, holding my head for a moment. My face twisted in pain as the memory of Liam’s betrayal flashed before my eyes.


“You’re a million times better than her, baby. Ariana’s nothing.”

My fists clenched so hard my nails cut half-moons into my palms.


“I’ll make both of them pay,” I hissed into the dark, a plan forming in my mind to expose their deceit in front of the whole damn club.

I shot out of bed, yanked on my boots, and stormed into the hallway ready to drag them both into the common room by their throats.

But the clubhouse was dead silent.

No music. No laughter. No clink of bottles. Just the low growl of idling bikes somewhere outside.

My skin prickled. Something was wrong.

"What's going on?" I wondered, glancing around with my senses on high alert.

I followed the pull in my gut straight to the chapel, the huge garage we used for church when the whole club had to vote. Every patched member was there. Hundreds of eyes snapped to me the second I stepped through the roll-up door.

My pulse hammered against my ribs.

What's going on?

My heart raced, and I became nervous, but I tried to maintain my stance, refusing to feel intimidated by their presence.

Why is the whole pack here? I don't remember calling them to be here yet.

While drowning in my confusion, it was then that I saw Elena standing near the front, a razor-sharp smile slicing across her face.

I frowned, my fists folded, and I took a step forward, ready to accuse her, but before I could speak, Victoire ,my stepmother,stepped forward like she owned the damn place.

“Ariana Valenti, you’re a murderer!” She shouted loudly, her eyes cold and accusatory.

The words hit me like a knife to the chest.

“What the fuck did you just say?” I snarled, taking a step toward her.

The entire club answered for her.

“Murderer!”


“Murderer!”


“Murderer!”

The chant rolled through the garage like thunder. I slapped my hands over my ears, but it didn’t help. My wolf snarled inside me, ready to rip throats.

What the hell is happening?!

Why are they accusing me of murder?!

Old man Harold , senior enforcer and council member, shoved his way forward, face purple with rage.

“How could you kill your own father, girl? Your President?”

I was taken aback, my eyes widened, "What? No, I didn't! I loved him, I would never harm my Dad!"

Elena’s voice cut through the noise, sweet as poison. “Then explain this, little sister.”

The massive roll-down screen we used for territory maps flickered to life.

There I was, hospital room, grainy security feed,leaning over Dad’s bed, sliding the oxygen mask off his face. The clip ended the second his monitors flat-lined.

"She killed the president!" 

Everyone gasped aloud and their eyes fell on me hatefully.

“Evil girl!” 

“She’s not fit to be part of us!” 

Harold pointed a thick finger at me. “You murdered our beloved President for the gavel. Why else take the mask off and not call a single doctor?”

I shook my head, tears now burning at the back of my eyes. "No, that's not what happened! I didn't mean to... It was,"

The elder's expression turned skeptical. "Why didn't you tell the hospital that your father had awoken? Why did you keep it a secret?"

I felt like I was drowning, the accusations suffocating me. "I... I…. I swear! This is all a misunderstanding!"

"Oh Ariana, why? Why didn't you inform the doctors immediately when your father opened his eyes?" Victoire faced me, pretentiously faking her tears as she deliberately added more fire.

Like mother, like, daughter. Elena is the exact replica of her mother so I’m not surprised.

"I did! This clip ended abruptly just before I screamed for the doctors, can’t you see that!, this is clearly an attempt to soil my name,” I was defensive as I turned to face the elders.

But my words fell on deaf ears, as the members chanting resumed, their voices echoing through the hall.

"Murderer!"

"Murderer!!"

"I'm telling you, it's the truth!" I pleaded, my chest rising and falling heavily. "My father told me to remove the oxygen mask, he was awake, I swear! He said,!" I paused, unable to go on as the faces of doubt glared at me.

None of them believed me.

I scanned the crowd for one friendly face. Found Liam near the front, Elena’s arm looped through his like she’d already claimed him. Her smirk could cut glass.

He wouldn’t even look at me.

As if it was not enough, Victoire had another footage displayed on the big screen showing me going to serve my father a drink right before he was admitted to the hospital.

“How do you explain this then, little princess?” Victoire said, sarcastically. Her voice was laced with the facade of grief.

This didn’t help matters as I stared at her in disbelief. Nothing I said made sense again as everyone believed that I was guilty.

When in fact she was the one who asked me to go serve my father a drink in the bar claiming that he needed company. Something indeed did not sit right. 

The entire building was overwhelmed with different side talks and noises. Harold ’s voice booming over the noise. “Until proven innocent, Ariana Valenti is stripped of all claim to the presidency. Coronation is canceled.”

“No!” The word tore out of me.

“Take her to the cage,” he ordered.

Two patched enforcers grabbed my arms. I could’ve shifted, could’ve torn free, but that would only prove their point. I let them drag me past the jeering crowd.

As they hauled me out, Elena leaned into Liam and whispered loud enough for me to hear, “Told you the crown would look better on me.”

I locked eyes with Liam one last time. He finally met my gaze,cold, empty, already done with me.

My heart turned to ash.

The pieces snapped together like rounds sliding into a magazine: whoever recorded that footage had been in Dad’s room after he died. They’d emptied the safe. They’d planned this whole fucking show.

I jerked against the enforcers’ grip hard enough to make them stumble.

“I’ll prove I didn’t do it,” I promised the room, voice low and lethal. “And when I do, every single one of you who turned on me tonight is gonna bleed for it.”

The cage door slammed behind me,cold iron bars in the back of the garage where we usually kept traitors and rats.

I sank to the floor, fists clenched, wolf pacing furious circles under my skin.

They thought they’d buried me.

They just gave me a front-row seat to watch them burn.