ALHPA ABRAM: And the four daughter의 모든 챕터: 챕터 11 - 챕터 20

Chapter 11: The Serpent’s Key"Don't look at them. Just look at me."Abram’s voice was a low growl in my ear. He had his hand clamped onto my waist, dragging me out of the private elevator and into the main office of Silas Enterprises.The air here was different. It didn't smell like the flowers in the penthouse; it smelled like coffee, expensive cologne, and the heavy, aggressive scent of a hundred Alphas. Every head in the lobby turned. The whispering started immediately.The payment. The Miller girl. Abram’s new pet.I kept my head down, acting like I was overwhelmed. Abram pulled me tighter against him, his knuckles digging into my hip. It was a warning to every guy in a suit watching us: She’s mine. Touch her and you die.We skipped the main boardroom where the Council was waiting. I could smell their annoyance from twenty feet away. Instead, Abram took me into his "Vault"—a private office with thick, soundproof glass."Sit here," he said, pointing to a desk in the corner. "I’ve

Chapter 13: The Digital AssassinThe only light in the executive suite came from the laptop screen, casting a pale, cold glow over Elara’s face. Rain lashed against the floor-to-ceiling windows, a steady, aggressive drumming that drowned out the hum of the air conditioning. It was 2:00 AM.She knew he was watching. Somewhere in the sprawling penthouse or down in the high-security labs, Abram’s phone would chime. He’d see her active. He’d check the mirror link.Elara’s fingers moved with a practiced, slow rhythm. She typed into the search bar: Traditional Lycan mourning rites. She scrolled through a few pages, pausing as if reading intently. Then, she switched tabs. How to cook for a High Alpha. She could almost feel his smug smile through the digital tether. Good girl, he’d think. She’s finally trying to fit in. Underneath the window of "Traditional Wolf Knotting Techniques," a black command prompt flickered in the hidden partition. This was the dark space John had taught her to navig

Chapter 15: The Grave of Secrets"Get in the car."Abram didn't look at me when he said it. He was already staring through the windshield of the black SUV, his jaw tight, his gloved hands gripping the steering wheel until the leather creaked. Since Sloane was dragged out of the boardroom three days ago, he’d been a ghost. No shouting. No breaking things. Just a heavy, suffocating silence that made the penthouse feel like a tomb.I didn't ask where we were going. I just slid into the passenger seat.The city lights faded into the rearview mirror, replaced by the jagged silhouettes of pine trees and the dark, rolling hills of the old pack lands. The heater hummed, but I was shivering. Abram drove like a man possessed, his foot heavy on the gas, weaving through the winding mountain roads without tapping the brakes.We slowed down near a rusted iron gate that hung off its hinges. The sign was long gone, buried under decades of weeds and gray moss."Wait here," he barked.He climbed out, t

Chapter 17: The Coldest DawnThe sun crawled over the edge of the city, bleeding a pale, sickly gold across the penthouse floor. It was too quiet. Abram’s chest rose and fell against my back, a steady, rhythmic thud that felt like a mockery. He looked peaceful. The lines of tension in his face had smoothed out, making him look younger, almost human. His arm was draped over my waist—not the bruising grip of a captor, but the heavy, relaxed weight of a man who finally felt safe.He thought he had won. He thought that by baring his pathetic, bloody secrets, he had tied me to him forever.I lay there, staring at the dust motes dancing in a beam of light. My heart felt like a dead thing in my ribs. For a second—just a heartbeat—the "Gilded Cage" felt warm. I could stay. I could be the queen to his broken king. I could let him buy me more diamonds and pretend the blood on them was just paint.Then my gaze drifted to my own wrist.The faint, yellowing bruise from his grip last week was still

Chapter 19: The Serpent’s OfferThe conservatory was a cage of glass and humidity. Ferns as tall as men pressed against the panes, their damp leaves brushing against my skin like wet fingers. It was midnight. The moon hung bloated and white above the estate, casting long, skeletal shadows across the stone path.Elder Thorne stood by a fountain, the water’s trickle the only sound in the suffocating heat. He didn't turn when I approached. He just stood there, leaning on his silver-headed cane, smelling of stale tobacco and old power."You’re late, girl."His voice was a dry rattle. He turned slowly, his eyes raking over me with the kind of disgust one might have for a cockroach in a silk dress. To him, I wasn't a person. I was a common whore Abram had dragged home from a gutter.I pulled my lace shawl tighter around my shoulders, letting my lower lip wobble just enough. "I had to wait for him to fall asleep. He’s... he’s been very demanding tonight."Thorne’s lip curled. "Save the sordi