Novel & Cerita Ditch Fake Bond: She's Tycoon Wolf Heiress

She was busy typing on her gold phone, looking completely bored. "Kaelen, relax," Tatiana said, not looking up. "My father's tech company just transferred the dummy funds into your main account. When this imperial auditor from Apex Global arrives, just show them the screen. These corporate humans don't know anything about wolf pack assets. A few fake receipts and they will sign the extension."

"I thought you both made it clear you wanted nothing more to do with me." Her directness caught them off guard. The Mirena they knew had been quiet, eager to please—never this sharply composed. Duncan recovered first, clearing his throat and adjusting his tie. "We asked you here because there's a matter you need to handle." She needed to handle? Curious, Mirena tilted her head slightly as Duncan placed his phone on the table and slid it toward her. Her eyes immediately caught the bold headline: ~True Heiress or Homewrecker?~

"Do we have a deal?" For a moment, nothing moved. The wind died. The world held its breath. Then she smiled back. It was the worst thing I'd ever seen. "I don't make deals with terrorists," she said, voice layered with harmonics that shouldn't have been possible from a human throat. "If it was the incubus, I would consider it. But..." She stepped closer, still smiling, eyes burning brighter. "My bond with Kieran was orchestrated by me. It's a faux bond."

My priority remains securing my mom's release. I approach Charlie, asking again, "What do I need to do to get my mom back?" Charlie doesn't respond immediately, too engrossed in flipping through a magazine. He finally stops, tosses the magazine towards me, and opens it to a specific page, leaving me perplexed and wondering if he's serious. I raise an eyebrow, curious, as Charlie instructs me to examine the image. Bending down, I pick up the magazine, and my eyes land on the caption: "Billionaire Maya is back in style."

For him to laugh and say he was joking, testing me, seeing how gullible I was. But Damien didn't laugh. He just stood there, watching me with those impossible amber eyes, his expression grave. "You're... what?" "A werewolf. An Alpha, specifically. I lead the largest pack in the Pacific Northwest." His voice was steady, matter-of-fact, like he was discussing quarterly earnings. "Sterling Industries is a cover. Most of my employees are wolves. This building is pack territory. And you, Maya Chen, are my fated mate." The room spun.

Not a‌nym‌ore. Za⁠n‍e st​r​aightened hi‍s cufflinks, the mask of the un​touchable bi‌l‌lio‌nai⁠re sliding back into place even as a flicker of somethi‍ng‌ r‍ec‍k​less stirre​d in his​ che​st. The s⁠oft click of her​ heel​s grew lo‌u‌der in the hallway.‌

"Ty's already looked into it. That woman is the richest person in Ralliopolis. Playing the connections game is something fake rich kids like you always do, huh?" Tyson wrapped his arm around Solana and sighed, saying how pitiful she was for nearly being scammed by me. Then he urged her to look through my phone. "Lana, these gold diggers usually have several targets at once. You should check his phone. Who knows, he might have several sugar mamas saved in there." Solana immediately grabbed my wrist, wrenched my phone from me, quickly scrolled through my contacts, then furiously shoved the screen in my face. On it were entries saved as "Princess A" and "Princess B".

I smiled, but a flicker of melancholy and weariness settled in my chest. Moments like these always stirred up memories I tried to keep buried – the fall of the Winters name, the whispers of scandal, and the hollow echo of an empty estate. After my father’s business empire under the weight of mismanagement and fraud allegations, my stepmother, Dahlia, in a desperate attempt to secure our future, laced my drink with drugs and sent me to Leon’s suite during a charity gala. Her plan was simple: force Leon, my childhood friend, into a position where he’d have no choice but to marry me.

“How would you know that?” “You told me... Didn’t you? Or maybe I heard somewhere, but it’s impossible! She must be faking it! Maybe she’s a witch! Maybe she planned this! Maybe she faked a bond with you!” She then palmed her face as her shoulders shook from her cries. “I know I’m saying impossible things. Because she’s not a witch, right? She’s a shifter like you, and there’s no way she can fake a bond…” I gulped as my hands clamped my temples. Althea. She’s a witch.

"Please. You're always glued to your phone or hiding in your room. If I waited for your help, she'd be long gone by now." Apparently, one of her socialite friends had done some digging and passed along a name. The woman had answered every so-called 'verification question' correctly, which Mom took as proof. There were some inconsistencies with the photo, sure, but as Mom explained it: [Everyone looks different under gala lighting. That ballroom lighting makes anyone look like they belong on a magazine cover.] The woman turned out to be the only daughter of a jewelry magnate, and a pureblood wolf born into one of the Alpha-aligned families, affluent, refined, and deeply rooted in the elite pa