ANMELDENChapter 70: RecalculatingPOV: NikolaiI told myself I was monitoring the situation for practical reasons.The Sinclair announcement had implications for half a dozen deals currently sitting on my desk, alliances that shifted the moment a fortune that size reentered public visibility, territory arrangements that would need reassessing now that the Sinclair heir had a face and a location attached to her again. It was reasonable, defensible, entirely within the scope of my responsibilities as an Alpha with holdings across three states, to spend an hour reading everything the internet had already produced about Odette Sinclair in the six hours since her father's announcement.That justification lasted exactly as long as it took me to open the third article.The photographs had multiplied fast, the way these things always did once a story had a face worth photographing, campus shots pulled from old yearbooks, grainy footage from the quad that kept looping across every outlet, a handful o
Chapter 69: A Promise He Can't KeepPOV: NikolaiThe news reached the house before she ever called.I was in a meeting with the shipping division's counsel when my assistant knocked, which she never did, not for anything short of a fire, and I knew before she said a word that whatever had happened wasn't going to wait for the meeting to end."You need to see this," she said, already turning her tablet toward me.The footage was already looping on three different outlets by the time I found it myself, a college quad, Odette frozen in the middle of a crowd of flashing cameras, an older man beside her speaking with the particular polished cadence of someone who did this kind of announcement for a living.Sole heir to the Sinclair pack fortune.I sat with that for a long moment, turning it over the way I'd turn over an unexpected clause in a contract, looking for the trap in it before I let myself register anything else. Sinclair. I knew the name the way everyone in this business knew it,
Chapter 68: No Version Where I Say NoPOV: OdetteThe sound of it rang louder in my ears than the actual pain, which came a half-second later, blooming hot and sharp across my cheekbone, my whole face throbbing in time with my own pulse.I put a hand up to my face on instinct, not to check for blood, just to hold the ache in place, and stared at my father like I'd never actually seen him before, not properly, not in all the years I'd lived under his roof believing there was some line he wouldn't cross.There wasn't. There never had been. I'd just never pushed hard enough to find it."Sit down," he said, like nothing had happened, like his hand hadn't just cracked across my face in a room with gold-framed portraits watching from every wall.I didn't sit."You hit me.""You raised your voice at me in my own home." He said it flatly, adjusting his cufflink like the whole exchange had cost him nothing more than a minor inconvenience. "Consider it a reminder of whose house you're standing
Chapter 67: NoPOV: OdetteI stared at the sheet of paper in my father's hand, at my own signature sitting there in careful, terrified eighteen-year-old handwriting, and felt something in me go very still and very cold."I'm not signing anything else," I said. "That signature was forced. You know it was forced.""Nobody forced you to hold a pen." My father set the paper down on the side table, unbothered, like the conversation had already been settled somewhere he hadn't bothered informing me of. "You wrote your name. That's all the law requires.""I was eighteen. I didn't understand what I was agreeing to.""You understood enough to run the next morning." His voice stayed level, which somehow made it worse than shouting would have. "That tells me you understood exactly what you were agreeing to, and decided you'd rather be a coward about it than face the consequences like an adult.""Running from an arranged marriage to a man I'd met twice isn't cowardice.""It's exactly cowardice, d
Chapter 66: ConditionalPOV: OdetteIt wasn't Julian.It was a courier, some nervous kid in a delivery uniform holding a leather portfolio he clearly didn't want to be holding, hustled back out the door within thirty seconds by a member of staff before I got more than a glimpse of him. My father took the portfolio without a word of thanks and set it, unopened, on the side table like it could wait.I felt my pulse slow back down, and hated that it had spiked at all."You knew where I was," I said, once the door had shut again. "This whole time."My father didn't even have the decency to look uncomfortable about it. "Of course we knew. Did you think Sinclair security couldn't locate one runaway daughter living under her own first name?"Five years. I'd changed nothing but my scent and my last name, worked jobs that paid in cash, lived in an apartment nobody would ever call safe, and this whole time they'd known exactly where to find me."Then why didn't you come get me?""Why would we?"
Chapter 65: The House I Ran FromPOV: OdetteThe gates opened before we even reached them, some staff member watching for the cars, and I understood immediately that nothing about this arrival had been left to chance.I hadn't seen this house in five years. It looked exactly the same, which felt like its own kind of insult, white stone, three stories, a fountain out front that had probably never once stopped running, not for a storm, not for a funeral, not for a daughter's absence. Money like this didn't pause for anything.The car rolled up the circular drive and stopped at the base of the front steps, and my mother was out before the engine had fully died, already moving toward the house like she couldn't get inside fast enough now that the cameras were gone.I didn't move right away."Odette." My father, from the other door. "Inside."I got out.The foyer hit me the way it always used to, all marble and gold-framed portraits and a ceiling so high it made you feel smaller just stand







