Filthy rich werewolves by Taylor Caine

Chapter 12

GRACE

Two days later, I receive a phone call from Evelyn. "Grace, father says he’s going to throw your album

away today. I want to give it to you. Can you come to get it?”

I’m shocked. First, that my father would be so spiteful, but then…this is a man who’d cast me aside and

who’d gotten over my mother in record speed. And second, that the album has survived this long.

“You know the one,” Evelyn says. “With your baby pictures. The ones of you and your mother. There

are a few photos of your grandfather…If you don't come, well, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

I stare at the phone in my hand. I know Evelyn would never hand the album over for no reason. She

has to be plotting something. NôvelDrama.Org owns this.

However, that album contains almost all my memories of my mother.

"Sis?" a deep male voice rings in my ears.

I take a deep breath, and shove back from the table, "Jay, I have to go out for a bit. You should get to

bed."

As I say it, I hurriedly stand and put on my coat. I don’t wait for him to ask where I’m going, and I’m not

sure how to feel about the silence. Does he not care where I’m going or is he respecting my privacy?

He’s still staring at me, his expression indescribable, as I walk out and shut the door.

Evelyn texts me an address.

It’s outside of town—but not far into the country where my father lives.

I take the bus and then walk the several blocks and past the pricey gated communities to the

prestigious hotel that’s blinking on my phone’s GPS.

I pause and turn around slowly.

It’s an expensive hotel with its own golf course. I’ve been here before with Sean. We had to attend a

golf fundraiser and lunch event.

I don’t see anyone or sense any movements, but i can’t shake the feeling that someone’s watching me.

You know, Ava, if you were still with me, I wouldn’t have to second guess this shit.

It’s foolish to bemoan what I’ve lost.

But it isn’t just my wolf and the comfort she gave. My wolf was strong, fierce. And knowing I could

defend myself—that she would defend me—it assuaged my fears and had allowed me to go places

and do things without the constant worry that women in the world had to possess.

Another text pops up.

Come inside. Go to the Garden Room.

There are a handful of people in the lobby. They wear suits and gowns and I’m in sneakers and jeans.

I’m horribly out of place.

I turn left and follow the signs. A few employees glance at me oddly, but I just nod and keep walking.

When I enter the private room, I see Evelyn isn’t the only person inside.

The man, an overweight, middle-aged guy with thinning hair looks to be in his fifties. He eyes me from

head to toe. “Evelyn, is this your sister? She was the girlfriend of Sean Stevens back in the day?"

"Yes, Assistant Director Curtis.” I don’t miss the way my sister uses his proper title.

He comes closer to me. Our species has a way of moving and a presence that even without my own

wolf, I can detect. This guy…he’s not a wolf.

This human is bloated and smells like wine.

“Evie, what is the meaning of this?”

“Grace, this is the Assistant Director of my film crew. He has always said that he wanted to see you

after learning that you were Sean's girlfriend," Evelyn says with a smile.

Wherever this is going…I don’t like it.

”Where is the album?" I ask coldly.

"I'm first going to have to ask you to put in a good word for me with Assistant Director Curtis.”

A ‘good word’. Is that what they are calling it these days?

I don’t think this heinous man is interested in talking.

“If Assistant Director Curtis is happy and is willing to give me more screen time,” Evelyn goes on, “I will

naturally give you the photo album.”

This last part is said in a low voice and the words sound like a threat. Her eyes flash gold.

I hate her in this moment.

This girl is supposed to be my sister. My family.

Yet that flash of gold tells me she’d use her claws and fangs against me if given the chance. Maybe not

here in this room in front of a human. But her wolf has no qualms about dominating me.

Forcing me to follow along with this hideous plan she has set into motion for me.

"Well, since you are already here, let's have a drink." Director Curtis hands me a glass of wine.

I’m still staring at my sister. She’s willing to sell me off for her own benefit.

“Don’t look at me like that.” Evelyn sneers. More quietly, she says to me: “It’s because of you that we’ve

been blacklisted. It’s a miracle the pack hasn’t deserted us altogether. It’s not just about you.”

She almost has me fooled. If I thought she really was willing to do anything for pack, I might, just might,

be able to overlook her pulling a stunt like this. NOT that I’d be entertaining this male. Or that her

trafficking me is in any way acceptable. But maybe if she was so focused on helping our people, it

might make sense.

But…bottom line…”It’s not just about me, huh? Well, if you’re so worried about everyone else, then you

should fuck this guy then.”

Her eyes narrow and flash gold.

It’s gone in a blink.

But her shoulders bunch and I can imagine her hackles rising.

She takes the glass of wine that Director Curtis extends to her. “Be a dear,” she tells him, “and close

the door.”

He moves happily to seal us in.

"Grace, since you destroyed my opportunity to stardom in the past, it's not too much for me to ask you

to compensate me now. What's more, if you win Director Curtis's favor, you might be able to live a

better life in the future. I'm doing this for your own good."

“Wow, you are delirious.”

"Don't you want the album anymore?" Evelyn asks through gritted teeth.

"I never thought I'd have to sell my body in exchange for it.” My mother would never want me to do

such a thing.

“Have a nice life, Evelyn. I’m leaving.”

However, when I turn to go, Director Curtis is blocking the door. “You think I don’t hear what you’re

saying? You think you’re too good for me? Do you really think that you are still the girlfriend of Steven’s

family heir? I heard from Evelyn you are a street cleaner. That you’re some filthy ex-con.” He grabs my

arm, hard, when I try to move past him. “You should consider it a compliment that I even offered you a

drink!”