LOGINThird Person's POVVictoria lifted her chin from the steering wheel and nudged Trista's shoulder. Her voice carried a hint of awe, like she was witnessing a prophecy come true in real-time. "Insane. You called it. You actually called it."Trista didn't say a word.She silently pulled her gaze back and pressed the button for the window.The dark glass slid up slowly, sealing out the salty stench of the docks, the biting late-October wind, and the two figures rushing away into the distance.She hadn't guessed.She just remembered.In her past life, the Fernandez family had been exactly like this from start to finish.Greed is an instinct carved into the marrow; a second lifetime doesn't change that.November 7th.The day before Trista's birthday.In years past, the temperature in Los Angeles would have already started to drop by this time, but the atmosphere at the Silverlight estate was always warm.For as long as Trista could remember, every birthday had been spent with Cassian.Durin
Third Person's POVGeorge's fingers trembled as he pulled out his phone.He didn't dial immediately.Silence stretched through the cramped tin shack, broken only by the wind rattling the roof and the distant moan of a foghorn from the harbor. His Adam's apple bobbed once, his voice thin as wind-blown smoke. "Angela.""What now?""That sixty million Samantha took with her..."He spoke with difficulty, each word weighed down. "Most of it was scammed away by that classmate of hers. The portion she gave us... besides buying this house, the rest of it..."His voice trailed off into a whisper."The rest was used by you to pay off your brother's gambling debts."Angela's body stiffened for a split second."She doesn't even have enough in her account right now for an economy class ticket," George said, eyes downcast, unable to look at her. "How do you expect her to get back?"The shack went deathly quiet for five seconds.Then, Angela collapsed onto the sewage-stained ground.She didn't cry.
Third Person's POVThe show was over, and the seafood was bagged.Victoria swiped her card and linked arms with Trista. The two disappeared around the corner of the pier, laughing and chatting.The second their figures were swallowed by the passing trucks, the strainer in Angela's hand hit the wet ground with a heavy clack, splashing murky water all over her boots.Angela didn't care. She grabbed George's wrist—her nails digging into his skin—and dragged him into the back room, a cramped space cluttered with foam boxes and nylon ropes.The tin roof rattled under the wind, and the air was thick with the stench of stagnant water and fish scales."The last time I told you to message your sister about coming back to L.A., what did she say?" Angela's voice was a low, feverish hiss.Her pupils contracted—a tell-tale sign of a wolf's greed being set on fire.George ducked his head, his back pressed against the cold metal wall. His voice was thin, like his throat was being squeezed. "Samantha
Third Person's POVMidnight. A private club on the West Side.Cassian sat alone in a dimly lit booth, drinking steadily. Fred pushed open the heavy oak doors and walked in.Cassian flicked his eyes up for a second, then slid a glass of neat whiskey across the table.Fred didn't touch the glass. He just stared at the fading red marks on Cassian's cheek. "Wynn said you had a fallout with the family—the kind the whole city hears about. What happened?"Cassian said nothing. He just tilted his head back and drained his glass.Fred snatched the empty glass out of his hand, his brow furrowed. "Is this still about Trista?"Cassian leaned back into the leather sofa, letting out a self-deprecating sigh.He did want to break away from those two arrogant old men for her.He'd even thought about walking away from everything Ironthorn owned just to be near her.He'd hoped, in some small, humble way, that she might look at him again—give them a chance to start over.But reality was colder than his d
Third Person's POV"He's twenty-seven years old, not a toddler who just finished weaning!"Alaina's voice was low, but it carried a vibration that sent a chill down the spine. "Everything he just said came from his own conscious mind. And your first instinct is still to blame someone else? Is Cassian not the exact product of that cold, Ironthorn dogma you raised him with?"Wilmot roared back, doubling down on his self-righteousness. "Did you see how he treated me? His fangs were practically at my throat!""Respect is earned," Alaina snapped, refusing to yield an inch. A fierce, protective aura began to radiate from her. "Even if you're his father, you have no right to monitor his every move like he's a piece of prey.""I'm doing this for him!" Wilmot bellowed."If I didn't see him as my son, why would I leave the Ironthorn inheritance to him?"Cassian let out a hollow laugh that tasted like blood. "You keep saying you gave me everything, but are you sure that power is actually in my h
Third Person's POVCassian stared at her, his dark eyes searching hers, until the strength in his grip finally withered away.With Trista, it felt like their relationship could only move in one direction: backward.He didn't dare push any further; he swallowed the confession on the tip of his tongue and forced it down.But her words had left a jagged mark.Even though he ran the show at Ironthorn now, he was still standing in the long, cold shadows of the two men who came before him.If he lost his power, what would he have left to protect her with?A flicker of complex emotion crossed his face. "I have some urgent business to handle," he muttered. "I'm heading out."Trista watched him leave."Cassian is actually losing it," she thought.For a top-tier Alpha who worshipped profit and power to talk about throwing it all away to be "ordinary" was a total pipe dream.She took a breath and went back to her room.According to the timeline, Samantha was still living a desperate, broke exist
Cassian's POV"Luna Trista—"I heard a familiar voice and immediately turned, running straight into the silent, despairing look in Trista's eyes.My chest instantly tightened. My 'wolf' perked its ears in my ribs, first a low whimper, then a hollow sound of falling.I immediately tossed the items i
Trista's POVWynn helped talk me down from upstairs. The cold air in the foyer cut the heat in the hallway into segments.A short while later, Fred walked in.I struggled to lift the corner of my mouth, forcing a polite, if strained, curve.He reached out and ruffled my hair slightly. His voice was
Cassian's POVBack at Ironthorn House, I carried her directly up to the second floor.She felt almost weightless in my arms, like a pennant taken down from the Stone Circle, with only the trembling sound of wind left in the fabric.My phone vibrated constantly in my pocket.I secured her wrist with
Trista's POVThe reflection of white and green flashed across the car window. I realized we were already heading toward downtown LA.The city streets spread out in the night. Neon lights and road signs stuck to the glass like thin film. The flash I just saw was a chain drugstore.My chest felt ligh







