Chapter 14 – On His Way

                Alpha Atticus stood before the small, scratched mirror, a rare luxury he had obtained by bribing a lesser guard.

                His large, hardened hands, more accustomed to wielding power or delivering brutal blows, now moved with a surprising, almost delicate care as he untied the belt of his plush bathrobe. He peeled it from his shoulders, the fleeting warmth of his refreshing bath in the stark, shared prison bathroom giving way to the cold cell air.

                The jawline he had ignored for weeks was now clean-shaven, revealing sharp features that had lost none of their power despite the time behind bars.

                With calm finesse he slicked back his blond hair, using steady, controlled movements. He then applied a hint of expensive cologne, a clean, masculine, unmistakably high-end scent, that cut through the harsh, stale prison air. It wasn’t just for show.

                 This scent, acquired through Beta Jax’s carefully managed contacts, was as deliberate as every other choice he had made for the night. It carried weight. It reminded him of the world that waited beyond these walls and the place he still intended to reclaim.

                Reaching under his cot, he pulled out the garment bag Jax had delivered days before.

He unzipped it slowly, revealing a full designer tuxedo. Each piece was expertly tailored to fit his frame. He dressed without rushing, sliding into the crisp white shirt, then the trousers and jacket. The fabric felt strange after so many months of wearing prison uniforms, but it grounded him.

                 It reminded him of who he still was, the Alpha of the Moon Howlers pack.

When he checked his reflection again, the man looking back wasn’t a prisoner, not anymore. His appearance was sharp, clean, commanding. The layer of civility didn’t conceal the threat beneath, it clarified it. He looked like himself again, a strong, invincible wolf.

                A quiet knock came at the iron door.

                “Alpha Atticus?” Guard Miller’s voice came through in a whisper. He unlocked it and stepped inside quickly, glancing behind him before shutting it again. His hands hovered near the key loop at his waist, and his shoulders were drawn tight.

                “Everything’s ready. Just like we discussed. The corridor is clear. I double-checked and then checked again.”

                Atticus turned, meeting Miller’s nervous eyes. “And the cover story?”

                “It held. I told them you were ill, an immune disorder, something complex. Said it needed outside testing and Council authorization. All approved, all signed. No questions. Clarence is ready to play his part.”

A faint, cold smile crossed Atticus’s lips.

                “Good,” he said.

                He stepped forward slowly, closing the space between them.

                 “You’ve done well. You remember what this means for you?”

                “Yes, sir,” Miller said quickly.

                He flinched when Atticus handed him a sealed envelope, then looked down at the weight of it in his palm. The thick stack inside was unmistakable. “I hope Anna knows what you’ve done for her. That she understands this isn’t just…”

                “She doesn’t need to understand it now,” Atticus replied, his tone even. “That will come later.”

                The two men moved through the hallway in silence.

Their steps were fast but controlled, their route pre-planned and memorized. As they passed Clarence’s cell, Atticus slowed. Clarence was sitting calmly on his cot, reading a paperback. He looked up, and for a few seconds, they held each other’s gaze. Then Clarence gave a slow, deliberate nod.

                That was all they needed.

                There was a deal between them, one that would hold. Clarence would say whatever needed to be said, and in return, Atticus had promised him something he couldn't get from anyone else.

                Just before reaching the exit, Miller glanced over. “Are you nervous?”

                Atticus answered without turning. “Nervous men hesitate. I don’t.”

Miller nodded but stayed quiet after that.

                The door creaked open, letting in cold night air that carried the scent of the outside world. For the first time in a long while, Atticus felt the wind on his face. He drew in a deep breath, filling his lungs with the crisp air before scanning the area.

                Parked just ahead was a black Maserati, silently waiting under the low light. Jax was waiting by the passenger door with his usual composure.

                “The clothes reached the guard on time,” Jax said as Atticus approached. “Payment was made. We had eyes on the hallway. No signs of any interference. Everything is perfectly arranged.”

                Atticus nodded and got in.

                Jax handed him a small velvet pouch. Atticus pulled out a black mask and secured it over the half of his face. Then he put on a wide-brimmed hat that cast a deep shadow over his eyes. Nothing dramatic, just enough to change the outline of his face and make quick recognition harder in a crowd.

                “To the airstrip,” he ordered with quiet authority.

The Maserati moved through the dark, empty streets, low and powerful. Inside, Atticus leaned his head back, letting the motion settle his thoughts. In his mind, he saw her.

                Anna. Standing tall and poised under the runway lights, wearing the gown he had exclusively selected for her. He imagined the confidence in her steps, the strength in her presence.

                “She’ll be flawless,” he said quietly.

                Jax kept his eyes ahead. “The show? The dress?”

“No,” Atticus said, his tone steady. “Her. Anna. She’s becoming exactly what I intended. Strong. Respected. Desired. The world is starting to see it, but they’re seeing what I already knew.”

                There was no boast in his words, just certainty, shaped by months of planning and absolute focus.

                The car rolled to a stop beside the private jet waiting on the tarmac. Its lights were on, engines humming, ready to go. Atticus climbed aboard without a word. Inside, the jet was warm, its luxury familiar and comfortable.

                “New York,” Jax said as he sat across from him.

Atticus turned to the window.

                “She’s building her place at Lunar Crest. That’s where she’ll grow into what I’ve seen in her all along. She doesn’t realize it yet, but everything about this opportunity, this moment, it was built for her.”

                “You’re not going to show yourself?” Jax asked.

Atticus paused before answering. “Not yet. If she sees me now, it could undo everything. She has to stand on her own, to prove to herself and to everyone else that she doesn’t need anyone. Only then will she truly understand what I offer.”

                “And if she walks away?”

                “She won’t,” he said. “And in case she does, I’ll follow her, everywhere she goes. She is mine!”

                The jet began to rise. City lights blurred beneath them, fading into the dark. Somewhere far below, Anna was preparing for the biggest moment of her career so far. And far above, flying toward her in silence, was the man who had crafted her future step by step.

                Tonight wasn’t for confrontation. It was for observation. For confirmation.

And soon, she would shine exactly the way he had imagined.