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Chapter fifty-one

VIOLET

Terror bleeds through me, the connections to my Alphas fierce with rage. I’m trying to stay focused even as the dashboard brings up Puma’s call. A hand from the backseat quickly declines it just as Gray’s call comes through. The hand keeps declining my Alphas’ calls, a cackle coming from the voice in the backseat until it’s all I can do not to cry.

When the hand declines Sofie’s call, I can’t hold it back anymore.

“Don’t worry, Violet. We’ll get this all straightened out. Promise. ”

“That means nothing you fucking shit bag.” He put the address in on the dashboard a little while ago, Ansdale leaving us behind as we drive into the part of a city that feels like it dropped out of a fairytale. The houses are even larger than the Ashford pack’s, monstrous entities that have no business being someone’s home.

“You should have just come outside when you were told. Then none of this would have been an issue.” He lets out an exaggerated sigh as he points to the third house, a driveway that takes us up a hill. I pull to a stop and lean back in my seat, wondering where we go from here.

He threatened to kill Hawk and no doubt he would have done the same to my other Alphas. I’m a good defense against a lot of things… a gun is not one of them.

“Time to go, Violet. Time to see just what I’ve got in store for all of you.”

None of this makes any sense as the man slides out of the car and then comes to my door. He opens it, grinning down at me, a face I never thought I’d see, Marion, Xavier’s fucking son standing in front of me. He’s always been so innocent despite his haughty demeanor. Nothing about the way he carried himself made me believe he’d be twisted up in all of this.

He guides me up the massive steps, a firm grip on my arm, his gun dangling from his other hand. It’s like he wants me to see it, wants me to see the control he has over me and my choices. It isn’t until we step inside, the front door slamming closed that he lets go of me.

“Where the fuck is Xavier?” I demand, tears still streaming down my face. God, why did I ever think I’d be able to step out for some information? I should have just given my Alphas my phone in the first place. This would have never happened.

Marion doesn’t answer right away. Then his expression shifts, his smirk curdling into something colder. “Long gone,” he muses. “In the wind, I’d say. Guess he finally realized it was in his best interest to disappear.”

Disgust curls hot in my throat. Xavier ran. Or Marion made him run. Every instinct in me is telling me to get the fuck out, to turn around and sprint to my car before this gets worse, but my body is locked in place, gaze focused on the shiny piece of metal in his right hand. One wrong move and I might not be leaving here with my life.

The surge of energy through the bond tells me that my Alphas aren’t that far away, that Sofie must have given them my location. I just have to hold on until then if Marion doesn’t get trigger happy before then. I clamp my lips shut, backing away toward the door and that’s when I see what this place is. It feels like a shrine, paintings on every available surface, spread out across the open layout. They remind me of the one that smudged beneath my fingers—meaning that these are all fakes. Whoever did this, spent a lot of time and effort in building their brand. What I want to know is why they would copy rather than just create.

Marion just smirks, catching my bewildered expression. “You were so fucking stupid, thinking you could save your little pack with a last-minute meetup,” he says, shaking his head. “What? I absolutely know that if you could, you would have snuck out without your Alphas. Just so happens that they’re a little territorial, hmmm? But like, what’d you think this was, Violet? Some kind of redemption arc? That Xavier was gonna hand over something to clear the Ashford pack’s name?”

My hands tremble at my sides as I try to piece this together. Marion was going to get me here one way or another. He had been prepared and had Hawk actually gotten into the car, I wonder if he’d still be alive.

I steel myself, lift my chin, force my voice to stay steady even as my stomach churns. “This is the dumbest possible reason to ruin a life,” I say, gesturing to the frames littered across the walls. “What was this? A grab for money? Some desperate need to be noticed? You finally get sick of being a talentless little shit and decide to fake your way to success?”

I should hold my tongue but the rage seeping into me from the bond is giving me confidence to speak my mind. Unfortunately, that just makes him laugh as he twirls the gun in his hand. He twists around, no doubt marveling in the creations as I hurriedly reach for my phone. Puma is calling so I answer before slipping it back into my pocket.

“I told him he should take some of the blame,” Marion says casually, turning around and stepping closer, forcing me back a step. “But you know how it is. Cowards always run. And now? It’s easy. We just pin the rest on the Ashford pack. What a tragedy, huh? The downfall of such an influential family.”

“You planned this. It was never about giving me information for the investigation.”

Marion shrugs, hands spreading like this is just business. “Violet, that’s never how it was going to work. I see opportunities where others don’t. I needed an out and you just perfectly dropped into my lap with that perfect little body and that smile that could light up a room.” He comes closer, casing me in, his gun running down the side of my face. “Xavier really liked you, told me you were the best employee he ever had—loyal to a fault, pretty, punctual. Thought he was going to try and be your Alpha with the way he kept talking about you and that pretty little Omega.”

I growl at him, silently warning him that Sofie is off limits.

“And as for all this? I didn’t paint shit. But you know what I am? A charmer. And the number of prints people have bought? It’s given me a wealth I could have never gotten just working under my father." His grin widens, self-satisfied, and my blood boils.

I clench my fists, steadying myself, forcing my expression to stay blank. He slowly removes the gun from my cheek, placing it beside us on one of the entry tables, allowing me to relax ever so slightly. "So, you just conned your way into the industry? Rode on the coattails of forgers and liars, pretending you had talent?"

His eyes gleam. "I wouldn’t say conned, exactly. I just gave people what they wanted. A little mystery, a little scandal. The art world thrives on that kind of shit. And it was easy—so fucking easy—until your Alphas had to go and ruin everything."

I frown, my gut twisting. "Puma didn’t say shit until after the whispers had already started."

Marion lets out a sharp ha! shaking his head. "Please. Puma’s been sniffing around for months, questioning shit, pulling threads, making people nervous. And then those two overgrown meatheads you call Alphas put a bid on that painting before following up with an email—asking for more information. More history. More proof."

The smugness on his face makes me want to rip it off.

"They were onto the fakes," he continues, like this is just a fun little game for him. "So what better way to teach them a lesson than to accuse them of dealing in stolen and fake art?"

Marion truly had planned everything, down to the last detail so he can walk away, unscathed.

"You’re fucking sick," I snap at him. "You let people trust you. You worked with them. You let them invest in you and now you’re ruining lives just because you got caught? Why the Ashford pack, anyway? You could have dumped this on anyone!" My voice echoes, Marion stepping back as he observes me.

"Oh, sweetheart, you’re acting like I care. Like I wasn’t just waiting for the moment this all caught up to me. I just decided to control the narrative. I can spin this any way I want." He lifts a hand, gesturing vaguely. "Maybe I was pressured into it by bigger players. Maybe I was misled into thinking these pieces were real. Maybe I’m just a victim in all of this, just like you."

The rage that claws through me is blinding. "You’re not a fucking victim," I hiss.

He just shrugs. "That’s for the world to decide."

My mind is racing, scrambling for an out, for a way to flip this back on him. Because fuck that. I’m not letting him play martyr while my pack takes the fall. He’s still watching me, a slow grin overtaking his face as he returns to standing right in front of me. I barely have time to blink as he reaches behind me and slides out my phone. “Whatever did you think was going to happen now, sweetheart? You were just gonna run back to your Alphas and hope that everything you found here was enough to clear them? Bitch, I’m just one player in the game. You still have shit.” Then he drops my phone to the ground and stomps on it with his heel. Glass and metal crack under the pressure, the screen fizzing out as a little tendril of smoke rises from it.

I stare at the mess of pieces, knowing that that was my one lifeline to my Alphas. And now, they have absolutely no idea where the fuck I am. That terror from before returns full force, overshadowing the anger and every other emotion. He’s faster than me, bigger than me, and he might very well grab that gun and shoot me if I try to take off.

There’s no good course of action here.

"Here’s what I propose," he says, voice light like he’s making a simple business deal. "If your Alphas confess—just a simple admission of guilt—I’ll let everything else go."

I blink at him, disbelief slamming through my system. "Let what go?" I ask, my voice flat, void of emotion, because I already know I’m not going to like the answer.

Marion's grin sharpens. "Well, since the twins won that bid," he starts, drawing out the words for effect, "shouldn’t they get the art they paid for?" He watches me closely, like he’s waiting for me to catch up, and when my eyes widen, he lets out a mocking little hum of approval. "Ah, there it is," he murmurs. "That moment when you realize just how bad this could get."

If the twins accept that painting—if they even acknowledge it as theirs—it’ll look like they’ve been involved in this shit from the beginning. It won’t matter that it’s fake. It won’t matter that they were set up. Because there will be proof. Fabricated, manipulated, but still proof.

Worse, Sofie is at home. Sweet, soft Sofie, probably curled up in the nest right now, waiting for me to come back like I promised. I straighten my shoulders, locking my jaw, forcing steel into my voice. "I’m not selling my Alphas out for your fucking agenda."

Marion shrugs, completely unfazed. "That’s fine," he says, slipping a hand into his pocket and pulling out his phone. "I’ll just let the station know that the cute little Omega at the front desk had a hand in all of this. That should be fine, right?"

"You—" My throat tightens, my pulse pounding as I take a step forward, but he just grins.

"Oh, don’t look so fucking surprised," he says, tapping at his screen like he’s just scrolling a menu. "The station needs a fall guy. Someone guilty enough to be believable but small enough that they won’t cause too much trouble. That little thing at Ash & Ivory ? Perfect candidate. You should have heard her, Violet—‘I didn’t know, I didn’t realize,’" he mocks, his voice going high and breathy, dripping in fake distress. "Pathetic."

Rage rips through me, so fierce and hot it feels like I might explode from it. "She’s innocent," I snarl, stepping right into his space, seething. "You know she is."

Marion smirks. "And you know that doesn’t fucking matter. All that matters when things are said and done is that I’m not the one in the line of fire."

"You’re a monster," I whisper, and his smirk just widens.

"And you’re out of time, sweetheart. So? What’s it gonna be, sweetheart? Your cute little Omega? Your Alphas? Or maybe you’d like to play the martyr yourself and take all this shit on your shoulders.”

"You motherfucker."

Marion laughs, slow and amused, because he thinks I don’t have an out. That I’ll pick the lesser of the two evils and bend.

"I’ll make it easy for you," he continues, stepping closer, his presence looming. "Confess that you were working with Xavier—say that you knew everything that was going on and this will be over."

I catch the flicker of fear in his expression, almost as if he’s not holding all the goddamn cards. He mentioned that there’s more people in play, that he’s just small fry. Which means that being caught up in all of this, they’re probably hanging him out to dry which is why he’s trying to control the narrative.

Which means as terrified as I am, he’s not really the one I should be scared of. I take a chance, eyes darting across the open floor, looking for somewhere I could hide. Even just a small crevice but there’s nothing that would shield me from a gun and I’m not even sure I could be fast enough.

So, I choose the next best thing and scramble for the metal piece beside me. It was a stupid mistake to leave it there but maybe Marion just isn’t as smart as he thought he was. All I need to do is make sure he has no idea I’ve never held one of these things before. It feels vile in my hands, like I’m holding the power to death but I point it at him anyway, my entire body trembling with the thought of what I might have to do.

Marion’s hands fly up. “Bitch, put that shit down.”

“Why? You pointed it at my Alpha! Why the fuck would I care about pointing it at you?” I fumble with the safety, unsure of how to get it to unlatch or unhook or whatever the goddamn it needs to do so I can shoot the bastard in front of me. I’m too focused on it when a punch lands against my cheek, my head falling back against the door.

I crumble to the floor, Marion turning around to reach for the gun when I grab his ankle. He’s not going to fucking kill me here. I promised Sofie that I’d be back. And I don’t break my promises with her.

He jams his free foot backward, nearly catching me in the face but I’m fast enough to roll over and climb up beside him. Marion is absolutely larger than I am, stronger too but the fear coursing through my veins and what I have to protect makes me better. I throw a punch to his groin, the Alpha doubling over as curses stream from his lips. The next punch hits him in his neck and then his forehead as I let my rage pour out.

My luck runs out as he grabs me around the waist and flattens me out on the floor. My eyes widen at the inevitability of this position, horror flooding my expression when instead of hitting me, one of his hands moves to my jeans. “Maybe I’ll ruin you in another way,” he jokes, his fingers catching the button.

I wriggle beneath him, struggling for purchase as I flail around. Screams tear from my lips as I try to fight him off and fail. I manage to flip back over, crawling away from him but then he’s over me again, his hot breath at my ear. Tears gather in my eyes as I continue to struggle. “Why? Why the fuck are you doing this?”

I get that he needed an out. But this? There’s no need for this.

“Maybe because I don’t fucking like getting played.” A growl echoes through the room as he grips the back of my shirt and rips it open. “God, you’re gorgeous. It’s too bad that I’m going to have to ruin this.”

I’m not fucking going down like this.

He rocks against my ass, the vileness of the movement urging me to fight back. I do everything I can but the grip he has on my waist is keeping me from getting far. That’s when I notice the gun just past my fingertips. He’s too focused trying to get my jeans off as the tatters of my shirt hang off my arms. But none of that matters.

Just a little closer.

“Stop squirming, bitch. Or this is going to hurt.” He’s jams his fingers in the waistband of my jeans as I curl my hand around the barrel of the gun and swing it backward, catching him square in the cheek. There’s a large crack as he falls to the side and I scramble to my feet, flying toward the door to escape.

He’s there in an instant, smashing my face against the door as he fights for the gun. Every part of me is screaming for relief, to stay alive, to be saved but I know that if I don’t fight, there won’t be anything left to be saved. I don’t have to be in control , I tell myself. They’re on the way. But if they can’t find me, I’ll have to save myself.

Something wet drips down over my top lip, Marion roughly grabbing the back of my neck as I hold the gun to my chest. “Give. It. Back. I have no idea why you’re fighting so much. Actually no, stand there. I can fuck you just fine against the door.”

Both hands grab the waistband of my jeans and yank them down my legs, a horrified yelp pulling from my lips. I fumble with the gun, trying to remember all of those goddamn movies, anything that will help me get this man off me. Something clicks and I twist around, hooking my finger around the trigger and pulling. It’s not angled right but Marion stumbles back anyway, blood trickling down his forehead.

He wavers, the sound no doubt ringing in his ears as I sag against the door, trying to hold myself together. My fingers are trembling as I fumble with the doorknob, cursing at it to open, to let me out, to let me free. Tears blur my vision as I struggle, a scream tearing from my throat when the door is thrown open but then there’s just utter relief, Hawk scooping me up into his arms, his purr immediately rumbling through him.

“I got you, Trouble. Fuck, I got you.”