Filthy rich werewolves by Taylor Caine

Chapter 14

JASON

Grace’s eyes roll back into her head. I hear her heart beating, so she isn’t dead. But for a moment,

panic washed over me.

I don’t like the feeling.

Not one bit.

She’s arched backward and if not for my arm around her waist, she’d be a puddle on the cold ground.

My eyes rake over her. One side of her face is bright red. I brush my hands over another bruise already

surfacing on her smooth face. My hand curls into a fist.

“Alpha, sir… it’s done. The order is given. The contract for Director Curtis’ company is terminated.”

My beta makes a sound when he sees her face. He’s not partial to any woman, that I’ve ever seen. But

he does resent violence toward them.

“Break the hand of the person that hit her,” I tell him.

He nods.

I want to break every bone in that man’s body.

Terrence positions himself in front of the country club as if reading my mood. “We should get her home,

sir. Before she awakens.”

Grace’s breathing…is off. “I think she’s been drugged.”

Terrence opens the door to the Escalade. “Victims of this sort of violence often are.”

“I changed my mind, kill him instead.”

Terrence’s brows go up. “That can be arranged. But it’s…messier. And quicker. Much less satisfying

than, say, losing your career and prestige and being blacklisted from the industry.”

“A fair point.”

It’s why Terrence is my beta.

When Terrence is behind the wheel of the car and Grace is positioned on the seat beside me, her head

on my lap, he peels out of the circular drive.

“Will she need a hospital?” Property belongs to Nôvel(D)r/ama.Org.

Maybe. But stripped of her wolf or not, we have rules about frequenting those sorts of human places.

“Have one of our pack’s physicians meet us at her apartment.”

I count the beats of her heart, listen to her soft breathing.

She shudders and I rest my hand on her back.

Terrence’s brows draw together. I know what he’s thinking. Smart guy, he doesn’t say it aloud though.

It’s the same thing I’ve been wondering.

What. Am. I. Doing.

I’m playing a game, yes. But to what end?

And I know he’s wondering why I didn’t retaliate when my fiancee died. But now, with the same

perpetrator of the accident that killed my intended luna, I’m what… protecting her?

“Alpha?”

I growl.

It’s all the warning he needs.

“Yes sir. Understood sir.”

He focuses forward and drives more quickly.

I close my eyes and concentrate on Grace.

* * * * * * * * *

GRACE

When I wake up, I see the ceiling of the rental apartment and... a familiar face.

"Jay!" I sit up abruptly, but my head throbs with pain. I take a deep breath and wait for the pain to pass.

"How... how did I get back here? I was at that hotel..."

The previous scenes in that garden room replays in my mind.

My sister…I’ll never think of her as that again. She’s just some selfish starlet whose willing to sacrifice

anything to get ahead.

I wonder if she ever even had my mom’s photo album in the first place.

"I saw you coming out of the entrance of the building, so I brought you back," Jason says.

But how…"I didn't tell you that I went there."

“No. That’s true. But when you were answering the phone, I saw the text message. It listed the

address,” he says. "Would you like some water? You'll probably feel better."

He hands me a glass of water. It’s warm, so he likely poured it a while ago. I take a few sips of and try

to piece together the events of last night.

The events in that meeting room are crystal clear.

The pawing hands. My sister constraining me.

The hideous knowledge of what would happen when I felt the drug begin to take effect.

And then… quiet.

Peace.

Comfort.

Then the feel of his hard body against mine.

I rub my eyes. ”I didn't do anything strange when I was drunk, did I?" I can’t help but ask.