The Tyrant alpha
Cate Jasminebillionaire alpha won't let me gomy girlfriend from turquoise pond requests my help after my millennium seclusionwerewolves going crazy over meex begging for my return: i shine as a billionaire writer
They pay it lip service, but at the end of the day, what they really respect is money.
They don’t see shifters as prey, and they don’t see our numbers as puny, because we’re rich as fuck, and they want a piece.
Thus, the chandelier is vintage Tiffany. The table is Frank Lloyd Wright. The painting above the fireplace is a rare Kandinsky.
Next month, Mother will have changed it all, but it will smell the same—paint, stain, polish, lacquer. Human. Expensive.
Mr. Shah recognizes the artist and pauses to admire the work. Father pulls out Mrs. Shah’s chair. I pull out my mother’s. An attendant circles the table to pour the wine. I place my palm over my glass.
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