Semua Bab The Heartbroken Luna’s Choice: Banish Love: Bab 501 - Bab 510

Third Person's POVTrista let out a fearless, mocking laugh. "This Alpha superiority complex is honestly nauseating. Strip away that self-important bloodline you're so proud of, and you people have absolutely nothing."Wilmot bolted upright, his muscles coiling with a tension that signaled he was seconds away from snapping. "You dare insult the Alpha bloodline of Ironthorn?""I'm not the one planning to bond with your son," Trista said, staring directly into his bloodshot eyes. "Why shouldn't I call out a megalomaniac when I see one?"Before she could even finish the sentence, Wilmot let out a feral roar. With the explosive speed of a werewolf, he swiped a heavy water glass off the table. It turned into a blur, whistling through the air like a lethal projectile aimed straight at Trista's head.In the split second it took for Ulva and Alaina to scream, Cassian moved. He lunged sideways, shielding Trista with his own body.The glass slammed into his back with a dull, sickening thud. It

Third Person's POVWhen Trista asked about his birthday plans, Cassian locked his gaze onto hers. His voice carried a trace of obsessive entitlement. "Same as always. I'm spending it with you."Trista stopped what she was doing.She tilted her head slightly, meeting his bottomless gaze in the heavy silence of the room. "Cassian," she said calmly, "I thought I made myself clear at the restaurant last night. We—""Whatever Howard and Wilmot said, they don't speak for me!"Cassian cut her off, his face hardening as his Alpha aura instinctively leaked into the room. "We grew up together in this territory. No one can erase that connection. I am your Cassian. Always."They stood in a silent standoff by the bedroom door, the air thick with invisible sparks.Trista took a deep breath, forcing a look of weary compromise onto her face. "Even if we were close growing up, we're adults now. We aren't married, we aren't dating, and we aren't even blood relatives. Being this close is just 'crossing

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

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 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.