All Chapters of REBORN TO LOVE MY FATHER-IN-LAW: Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

Scarlett's POV "Whoever recruited you knew exactly which of Dominic's men to approach," I continued. "They knew your history with the pack, what you were owed and what you believed you had not been given. They knew what to offer and how to offer it so that it would land." I watched his face. "That kind of knowledge does not come from Luca. Luca does not pay that much attention to anyone who is not directly useful to him at the moment."Marco said nothing, but his eyes had changed. The flatness was still there but underneath it something had shifted, like a wolf had caused a shift within him. "They were already watching this pack before Luca's plan began," I pressed further. "and whatever they want has nothing to do with who sits in the Alpha seat. It predates that conversation entirely."He looked at the floor between us, he was looking like his mouth had been cut off, looking speechless like a statue rather than a living thing. "The eastern territory records," I continued.His eye

Dominic's POV I had worked alongside competent people for thirty years, and I knew the difference between someone who performed competence and someone why had it. She had it in excess. She was just so good. A true embodiment of competence and performance, whom I would beat my chest in certainty that she possessed both. She knew the right spots to place her feet on the loose ground, knew when to slow down, and when the ground was firm enough to move at full pace. And the more we walked, the more she kept documenting, her writing regardless of the rough ground, danced with the steps of legibility. She called out important details in an informative tone without being instructional.We did not talk much while we worked, which was another mark in her favor. She understood that a job being done well was not improved by filling the silence around it.The path narrowed to its tightest point in the middle section of the corridor. Single file only, with a dense root system crossing the path

Scarlet’s POV “Sure it is, and how does it feel?” I asked, like I was running an interview on him. He considered this genuinely. "Bigger than I remembered." We sat with that for a moment, like it was a heavy lump in our throats that would need water or silence to push it down. “You’re the only one who came back for us,” he continued. And he wasn’t even looking at me, maybe he was shy, or maybe he was doing it on purpose, maybe. ‘Yes,” I answered. Though he wasn't asking a question, I just answered regardless. He nodded slowly in affirmation. And I could see clearly in his shoulders that something had changed shape, a small release, like nostrils that had been blocked and finally opened for air to come through. “And have I told you the other two are going home?” He paused, observing my facial expression a little. “Back to their families.” "And you?" He studied his hands. “I don’t have that option yet.” He turned his head in my direction and grazed his eyes across

Zara's POV "Did you get everything I asked for?" I asked without turning from the mirror. "Yes, all of it." The voice belonged to a man I had recruited three months ago from the pack's general workforce. He's not a soldier or a biker. He's just a groundskeeper who moved through the pack house and its surrounding buildings without attracting a second glance from anyone, which was precisely why I had chosen him. Invisible people sensed everything. "Training field, the corridor outside the Alpha's study, and the garden bench from this morning. The bench ones are the clearest." "You can leave them on the table, thank you," I responded with relief. "You can go." The door closed. I focused on my morning routine before I thought of touching the envelope. I had always been used to putting my routines first in my dealings, and it was a habit I found hard to explain to anyone who could not relate. Every morning came with the same sequence. Cleanser, moisturiser, and toner, in the order m

Scarlett's POV I spent the rest of the morning after the garden bench pretending I had not heard it. The click plus the single, quiet, deliberate sound from somewhere beyond the garden wall. I had walked back into the pack house at an unhurried pace with my face arranged and my hands loose at my sides, and then I had stood in the east wing corridor and listened. And it came again from the left. I turned toward it and found nothing. The corridor was empty, and I stood still, waiting sound again, and after twenty seconds, it came from the right this time, the same sound, the same quality of something small, mechanical, and intentional. I turned that way. Yet my attempt to catch the exact point it came from proved abortive, as there was nothing, no steps or figure retreating, and not even a shadow adjusting itself around a corner to avoid suspicion, no traces at all. I moved through the corridor in its full length gently, checking every doorway individually, including all the empt