Alea POV:

Kirt's face twisted in a mask of pure, unadulterated rage.

I could see the struggle in his eyes, his wolf clawing for control, wanting to shift and tear me apart right here in the hall.

Elois saw it too.

She moved with surprising speed, grabbing Kirt's arm.

"Alea! That's enough!" she snapped, her voice sharp as glass. "He is the heir to the Bradford Pack. Do you want to start a war between our families by humiliating him like this?"

Katy chimed in, her voice dripping with false reason. "Exactly. How could you make such a vulgar demand? Kirt was just… confused for a moment."

She shot a pointed glare at Candida.

Candida, ever the actress, immediately began to sob again, as if she were the one most deeply wounded.

I watched Elois orchestrate the scene, a cold knot forming in my stomach.

In my last life, this was how she operated—playing the reasonable mediator, smoothing things over, all while slowly siphoning the lifeblood from the White Pack.

Kirt, under Elois's firm grip, visibly forced himself to calm down.

The murderous glint in his eyes was replaced by a look of cold calculation.

He thought he could salvage this.

He took a deep breath. "Fine, Alea. We won't talk about that. If you want to talk about fairness, let's talk about fairness."

He was shifting tactics, moving from emotion to business.

He continued, "Our betrothal was an agreement between two Packs, accompanied by a significant portfolio of joint assets. Even if we dissolve the contract, the division of those assets needs to be addressed."

At the word "assets," Candida's sobs quieted.

Her ears practically perked up.

"Candida may not have a noble name," Kirt continued, his audacity astounding, "but she is my fated mate. Ancient tradition dictates that she is entitled to a portion of 'mate assets' to secure her future."

He had the gall to look me in the eye. "So, this is my offer. You don't have to accept her, but the White Pack must provide a settlement befitting Candida's new status. As a sign of respect to the Moon Goddess's will."

I almost laughed.

It was the exact same shameless logic he'd used before.

And I, like a fool, had fallen for it.

I had given them one of my mother's estates and a trust fund just to get them out of my life.

I remembered Katy, whispering in my ear, "Alea, it's just money. Pay them to go away. You'll earn a reputation for being generous and merciful."

And now, here she was again, playing the same part.

"She's right, Alea," Katy said, her voice full of false sympathy. "Kirt has a point. That property is a drop in the ocean for us. Think of it as… paying off a beggar. It's better than having them linger here forever."

Her words were for me, but her hungry eyes were on Kirt.

She and Elois had already decided how they would split the spoils.

My gaze moved slowly from Kirt to Candida, then to Katy and Elois.

I saw the same raw, undisguised greed on each of their faces.

I didn't answer.

I turned, walked to the sofa in the center of the hall, and sat down, crossing my legs.

The simple act shifted the power dynamic completely.

Suddenly, they were the ones standing, petitioning me.

A maid had replaced the tea on the coffee table.

I picked up a cup, blowing gently on the steam, as if I had all the time in the world.

Kirt's patience wore thin. "Alea, are you considering it? This is the best solution for everyone."

I finally looked up at him, my eyes filled with a pity that was more insulting than any anger. "Mr. Bradford, do you truly believe that I, Alea White, and the wealth of the White Pack, are nothing more than a carcass for you jackals to tear apart?"

My voice was soft, but the words were daggers.

I set the teacup down with a soft click.

"You," I said, pointing a finger at Kirt, "are a disloyal traitor." I shifted my aim to Candida. "She is a shameless mistress."

My eyes finally landed on Elois and Katy. "And you two are parasites, feasting on a family that generously took you in."

I stood up, closing the distance between us. "And now, this collection of filth stands before me, demanding payment?"

I laughed. The sound was clear and sharp, but utterly devoid of warmth. "I wouldn't give you a single cent. Get lost!"

The last two words were barely a whisper, squeezed from between my teeth, carrying an absolute, unchallengeable command.

The temperature in the hall seemed to drop by twenty degrees.