The Lycan's Gold Digger Wife のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 171 - チャプター 180

DAVE’S POV "What do you think you’re doing boy? You think you’re grown now that our opinions don’t matter to you anymore? That you can just make decisions?" Father yelled. SMASH! *drip drip* Blood streaked and dripped across my face as a shard of the broken porcelain father smashed grazed me. “Hehe. The classic, play-the-victim card. So this is the best she could do. Run to my parents and whine like the swine she is?” I sighed, and continued, still muttering to myself. “I guess this is what she meant by ‘I will regret this’ huh?” “What is that smile on your face for and what are you murmuring huh? I didn’t raise you to be a coward, so whatever you have to say, say it to my face!” Father added, angrily. “Hehehe. Raise me huh?” I scoffed. “ Dad look, I have no interest in marrying that girl, I still don’t understand why there’s so much fuss about it. And why exactly my inheritance is tied to that ridiculous clause. Why is my life decided without a single opinion from me.” Father

(Zella’s POV) I was walking through the crowded market of the Stone Trading Center, trying my best to act like I care about nothing in the world. Everywhere was smelling of tobacco and mixed with the pitching sound of the stone cutting machines from the back of the shops. Mike was walking right beside me, with his hands in his pockets, looking like he was just bored out of his mind. But I knew he was watching everyone, especially the two people following us like hungry ghosts. Lizzie was practically glued to Dave’s side. She had this look of overrated confidence. A kind of look you have when a race hasn’t even started yet, but you already think you’ve won. She was busy tugging at Dave’s shirt every second, laughing at things that aren’t even funny. But I caught her glance occasionally at me, trying to see if I was watching. "Just ignore them," Mike whispered, leaning down so much that his mouth was right next to my ear. "She’s probably trying to get to you. Don't give her the sati

Zella's POV You could honestly hear the tension rise in that shop —like, if you dropped a pin, the whole building would probably flinch. I just stared at the two halves of the stone in my hands, blinking like an idiot. I’d figured it would be cool, but damn, this thing? It was wild. Like someone bottled up a thunderstorm and pitch darkness, then stuffed it in a rock. That purple glow almost burned my eyeballs out. Mike just stood there with his jaw on the floor. “Holy crap,” he managed, sounding like he’d seen his grandma’s ghost. “Zella, am I tripping? That’s real jade, right? It’s practically radioactive.” Didn’t even bother answering him. Too busy watching the crowd transition from mockers to vultures. A minute ago, half of them were laughing at Lizzie, and now they were crowding in, eyes popping like cartoon characters. The greed in the air? You could taste almost it. Someone in the back whispered, all shaky, “Imperial Heart Jade. Clean as I’ve ever seen. That’s not just jade

THE SIX-HOUR HELL Zella's POV So, picture this—we're stuck in traffic, the road ahead’s a parking lot, and suddenly I spot two goons in suits coming right towards us. I quickly yanked Mike out of the cab, terribly horrified, but he still had the decency to throw some cash at the driver for, what, two blocks only that he’d driven? The guy's got manners even while panicking. We ducked sharply into this alley with cracked pavement; the smell could knock out a horse. “Keep…going… Mike!” I called out with my very dry throat, basically dragging him around a sketchy corner into a gap between two warehouses that look like they’re one good breeze away from collapsing. [Survival Mission: The Night of the Long Knives] [Time Left: 05:42:11] [Host Status: Toasted.] Heart rate: 145 BPM.] “Seriously? Five hours and forty-two minutes left?” I groaned, my voice cracking. I mean, come on. I wanted to scream, but with which lungs? I thought dodging bill collectors like I did in my past life was ro

LIZZIE’S POVThe first thing that blew on me was the awful smell. Llike sour milk mixed with unwashed skin and that nasty wet concrete stink you get after a rain. My eyelids felt glued together. Had to basically peel them open, and all I saw was a ceiling with yellow mold crawling everywhere.I tried to push myself up. Stupid move. My head felt like I’d been used as a drum set. My throat was super dry and rough, like I’d swallowed sandpaper. “What happened?” I croaked out, wow, even I cringed at my voice.I looked down and honestly almost puked. The cute silk dress I’d obsessed over? Gone. Now I was wearing a baggy gray shirt, pants tied up with a rope that looked like it came from nylon. Whoever did this to me has no shame at all. The trash around me had more dignity.The place was jammed with people lying on dirty mattresses—had to be at least thirty or forty people, some just staring into space. It couldn’t be a hospital or a hotel so... “Wait—am I in a homeless shelter?”Some old