Fake Amnesia, Claimed by My Ex’s Brother
The blueprint of our newest fighter model lit up the room, sharp lines, adaptable wings, improved stability shifts, and a redesigned power core.
The room fell silent with awe.
“This is the Nirvana Collection,” I said. “Our entry for the Werewolf Aviation Administration competition.”
Sophie gasped. One of the senior engineers whispered, “It can win… it can actually win.”
I nodded.
“We’re taking back our name.”
Cheers erupted, loud, joyful and unrestrained. Wolves stomped their feet, clapped, howled, and pumped their fists in the air. The excitement rolled through the hangar.
Then the hangar doors slowly opened again.
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