CHAPTER 154: THE SECRET

Snapped!

Lethia’s eyes flickered the moment her heightened hearing faded into a murmur, nothing but muffled chatter from the kitchen staff now.

She turned around and leaned back against the wall, trying to process the flood of information. Her throat felt parched, tight, and dry from the shock of what she’d heard.

Something went awry for the cold Zeran to pull off a grand show like a romance-drunk hero on a sitcom. No way in hell that was real.

’This has to be connected to what Adam said about the classified data. Shit... Looks like Varrel’s not satisfied with just having Ashcroft Corp.’

Her brain kicked into overdrive. She massaged her temples as the sting of a migraine began crawling into her skull.

["Looks like that public confession does not faze you. You don’t like him?"] Whisney’s voice suddenly popped in, throwing commentary right into Lethia’s spiraling mind.

’Can’t you see? It’s just an act. Something secret happened, and he needed to do that for... for I don’t know, maybe some business-wise reason or whatever.’

["So, you don’t like him? But you’ll go all soft and whimpery when he shows up?"]

Lethia rolled her eyes. Whisney was teasing, but somehow her tone held a flicker of genuine concern underneath.

’That’s not important right now! Varrel. He’s aiming for Tuffin too. This isn’t just about me and him anymore. Varrel has to be stopped.’

["Ah! You do like him! You’ve got this sudden heroine complex that thinks you need to protect everything by yourself!"]

Lethia ignored the fox’s rant and walked off slowly from the kitchen section, arms folded tightly across her chest.

Her fingers drummed restlessly against her arm, then decided to head outside into the backyard. There were still two hours left before her dinner with Varrel. She needed some fresh air.

Just as she was about to turn the corner at the end of the corridor, a sharp thud made her stumble.

Lots of papers came fluttering down, followed by a startled gasp from the woman with chin-length blue hair in front of her.

"Ah... why now of all times? I don’t have time for this," the woman muttered in frustration as she crouched down to gather the mess.

"Sorry," Lethia muttered too, crouching to help even though her lips jutted in clear irritation

Why the hell was she the one apologizing when this woman had clearly rushed and rammed into her?

Still, this was enemy territory. She had to act sweet, compliant, even charming if needed. Anything that helped her find the cracks in their armour.

The black pin on the woman’s left chest told Lethia that she was Varrel’s aide.

Her brows pulled together in subtle disdain. So Varrel just let anyone come into this supposedly sacred, private mansion? He really had made it his working nest, hadn’t he?

"You’re very dedicated to be still working on a weekend, and far from Ashenhold too," Lethia remarked with a deliberately pleasant smile.

"Ah, yeah." The woman’s tone was clipped and cold, a clear sign she didn’t want Lethia speaking to her at all.

Fine.

She had her plate full, so talking with a stranger was a waste of her exhausted mind.

As she reached for one of the scattered files behind her, her gaze caught on a photo: Varrel standing beside a woman.

Her eyes widened... then narrowed. She held her breath as her hand crumpled it tightly in her palm.

Before rising, she slipped the crushed photo inside her clothes, tucking it between her bra with a sharp breath.

Then, with a polite smile, she turned toward the young aide and handed over the papers she had picked up.

The aide looked awkward, gave no smile in return, and quickly grabbed the papers before hurrying away from Lethia.

The strong mom-to-be forgot all about her plan for some fresh air and fast-walked straight back to her room.

As soon as she stepped inside, Lethia pulled out the crumpled photo and unfolded it. Her eyes widened as she leaned against the back of the door.

’This is it. This is the motel where Varrel goes, and...’

["Huh? Is that you?"]

The fox’s voice echoed inside her mind, making her fingers clench tighter around the edges of the photo.

The picture was taken from behind, showing a man with his arm around a woman’s waist

She knew it was Varrel by his head turned toward the woman beside him.

But what made her jaw clench, what made her grip shake, was that the woman looked exactly like her from behind; the body frame, the posture, and unmistakably, the long, wavy maroon hair. Her breath caught in her throat.

’Are you crazy? Why the hell would I go to a motel with him?’

["Huh? Whoever sees that photo would assume it’s you though, so..."]

Lethia’s jaw tensed hard.

That had to be the damn reason the photo was taken, to look exactly like that.

She turned her gaze toward the glass window, now unlocked. The soft breeze of the late afternoon carried the fresh aquatic scent of the lake.

And it cheered her up... To drown Varrel right to the bottom of it. He needed to sink.

The preparation for dinner with Varrel made Lethia sick to her stomach. She had to stretch her patience pouch wide just to sit through it, only because she needed to find his weakness.

And she had a strong hunch that the photo she found was one of them. Standing in front of the mirror, she felt like the perfect doll that one she wanted to shatter herself.

The dinner was exactly the kind of over-the-top performance she expected, like they were celebrating something grand.

The rosemary garlic lamb butter steak in front of her didn’t stir even a flicker of appetite

Maybe even her pup had already lost the urge to enjoy one of her favourite dishes, thanks to the insufferable face of the man sitting across from her.

"What did you do to Tuffin Corp?" Her voice rang out loud, sharp, and straight to the point.

"So you know?" Varrel smirked as he sipped his wine, utterly unfazed. "Then you must know he did something delusional too, right?"

"Is your public fame not in danger? Shouldn’t you be worried instead of having this delusional fairy tale din—"

"I miss you."

Lethia bit the inside of her lip. He was sick.

"Is it so wrong to want a nice dinner with the woman I miss?"

"Just get to the point, you psycho! What the hell do you really want from me? Why are you acting like you’re about to start a war with the most powerful Lycan family? Are you boring with your life?"

"Are you worried about me, sweetheart?" He chuckled, a sinister grin spreading across his face.

"I’d be glad if that’s how you chose to die. Saves me the trouble of killing you myse—"

"Coup d’état," he cut her off, eyes gleaming. "It’s time the Lycans stop underestimating werewolves. And with my power, with your hidden power, we can bring back the glory of the werewolf kind."