Chapter 9: Legal Kill

Lola Pov

"Who the hell do you think you are?" I whispered to the empty kitchen.

The bouquet sat on the counter, its heavy, sweet scent making the air feel thick. I reached into the center of the flowers and snatched the small silver device.

I didn’t think about it. I just squeezed. The plastic casing cracked under my grip, and a small circuit board snapped in half. I threw the pieces into the trash and wiped my hands on my jeans.

I wasn't scared. I was just tired of people playing games with my life.

I sat at the dining table and pulled my laptop toward me. My fingers flew across the keys as I logged into the encrypted portal Arthur had set up.

The screen glowed blue, showing a map of my assets. Everything I had built, the logistics software, the shipping routes, the private contracts. it was all there, still tied to the Herdez name.

I started the transfer of the first core asset.

"Nightwood Logistics Main Hub," I muttered, hitting the button. "Moving to Nightwood Holdings."

A loading bar appeared. 2%. 5%.

I picked up my phone and dialed Arthur. He answered on the first ring.

"You're working late," he noted.

"I don't have much time, Arthur. Williams Schofield sent me a message. He knows where I am."

"What? How?"

"I don't know. He sent flowers to the penthouse. He left a recording. He called me 'Nightwood' like he’s been waiting for me to wake up."

Arthur sighed on the other end of the line. "The Schofields are old money, Lola. Very old. If he’s looking for you, it’s not for something small. But we have bigger problems. Have you seen the news?"

"No. I've been busy moving files."

"Check the pack feeds. Your uncle made a statement to the authorities. He confessed to helping Tristan manipulate the medical reports. They've placed movement restrictions on the Alpha and his... houseguest."

I felt a cold prickle of satisfaction. "So they're trapped?"

"For now. But they’re still calm. They think you’re dying or broken somewhere in a ditch. They don't realize the money is bleeding out yet. How fast can you move the last of the proprietary files?"

I watched the loading bar hit 60%. "I’m moving them now. Tell me how much time I have before Tristan notices everything is gone."

"Days. Maybe a week at most. He tried to log into the payroll server this afternoon. He’s already asking questions. He thinks it’s a technical glitch, but that won’t last."

"I'll be done by morning," I said.

"Good. Stay inside, Lola. Don't go out."

I hung up and looked at the wall. My wolf was pacing. She didn't want to sit in a dark apartment. She wanted to be out there.

She wanted to smell the wind and feel the ground. I felt stronger than I had in months. The cancer had been a lie, and every day without those pills was like waking up from a long, bad dream.

I stood up and grabbed my hoodie.Just a walk, one walk.

I stepped out of the penthouse and into the cool evening air. The city was humming. Humans moved past me, oblivious to the fact that a dying she-wolf was walking among them. I felt every vibration in the sidewalk. I could hear a dog barking three blocks away.

I walked toward a quiet park at the edge of the district. The grass was damp. I sat on a bench and closed my eyes.

"You feel it too, don't you?" I whispered.

My wolf pushed back. She was alert. Powerful. I felt a surge of heat from the mark on my hip, spreading through my blood. I looked at the stock market app on my phone. The Nightwood Logistics IPO was beginning to wobble. Investors were hearing rumors. The foundation was cracking because the person who built it was gone.

I sat there for a long time, enjoying the quiet. Then, a screen on a nearby building flickered. It was a giant digital billboard, usually reserved for luxury watches and cars.

But now, it was showing the Crescent Ridge News Logo.

I stood up, my heart thudding.

Tristan appeared on the screen. He was wearing a charcoal suit, looking every bit the grieving, noble Alpha. Sofia was standing right next to him, wearing a modest black dress. She had the baby in her arms. They looked like the perfect family.

"I am coming to you today with a heavy heart," Tristan said. his voice was smooth, practiced.

I stepped closer to the screen, my hands balled into fists.

"My wife, Lola, has been suffering from a very advanced illness," he continued. He looked directly into the camera. "As many of you know, she has been under immense strain. Unfortunately, the disease has begun to affect her mind. She has disappeared, taking critical pack documents with her."

"He's lying," I hissed.

"We are concerned for her safety," Sofia added, her voice trembling with fake emotion. She adjusted the baby in her arms. "She isn't herself. We just want her home so we can give her the care she needs."

Tristan placed a protective arm around Sofia's shoulders. "If she doesn’t come home soon, we may have to have her declared legally unfit. For her own protection and the protection of the pack, I will be forced to take full control of her assets. Lola, if you're watching this... please. Come home."

The broadcast cut back to the news anchor.

I stood in the park, the neon light of the billboard turning my skin a strange shade of blue. I wasn't crying. I wasn't even shaking. I felt a cold, hard stone settle in my chest.

He was trying to lock me in a madhouse to keep the company. He was using my own "death" to justify stealing my life's work.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. It was a text from an unknown number.

“The news was a nice touch, wasn't it? They're desperate, Lola. The clock is ticking. - WS”

I looked up at the sky. The moon was a thin sliver, but I could feel it calling to me.

"You want to declare me unfit?" I whispered to the empty park. "Come and try."

I turned and started walking back to the penthouse. I wasn't running anymore. I was hunting.