Lilith And Her Three Devil Wolves
I'm Lilith. My biggest trauma used to be my dad forgetting to book my Santorini villa, I know, the absolute horror of it all. I had the Porsche, the diamonds, the designer wardrobe that took up two whole rooms, and Jax, the perfect boyfriend who looked at me like I hung the moon. I thought I was the main character.
Plot twist? I was wrong.
Turns out I wasn't being raised as the Alpha's darling. I was being fattened up for slaughter. My parents didn't love me, they were just my wardens, keeping me soft and pretty and completely clueless. And that Gala everyone kept whispering about? Not my debutante ball. An auction. I got sold to the Triad like a piece of art, like a handbag, like I was something to own.
The Triad. Three terrifying, bloodthirsty Alphas who make the monsters under your bed look like stuffed animals. They need me for some twisted prophecy I never signed up for, and they don't care what I want. Obviously.
And the cherry on top of this hot-mess express? Jax held the door open for them. My perfect boyfriend counted his money while they dragged me away.
They think they can break the spoiled princess. They think I'm just a "Spawn of Lilith" meant to be served on a silver platter. Soft and sweet and easy to swallow.
Here's what they don't get. When you take away a girl's credit cards, her freedom, her whole damn life? The monster underneath is way more expensive to deal with than a few Birkins ever were.