CHAPTER 270: NO CHANCES FOR HER

Draven.

The study was quiet again, save for the faint crackle of the fire in the hearth.

Dennis still looked riled, the word snake hanging in the air between us. I leaned back in my chair, watching him, remembering how often he bristled at the mention of Wanda.

For a moment, I weighed my thoughts, then finally asked, "Tell me, Dennis—why do you hate Wanda so much?"

He blinked at me, caught off guard. Then his lips pressed into a thin line before he exhaled.

"I suppose you deserve the truth. I didn’t always hate her as you already know. In fact..." He gave a humorless chuckle. "When we were younger, I liked her very much."

I tilted my head, the memory surfacing easily. "I remember. You used to follow her around like a shadow."

A flush of embarrassment crossed his face, but he nodded. "Yes. Foolish, wasn’t it? Looking back now, I regret every bit of it."

He rubbed his jaw before continuing. "It changed after a few years. When we were alone, she started mistreating me—ignoring me, belittling me. But the moment you were present, she would act sweet, polite, almost kind."

I frowned, my brows drawing together. "I didn’t know that."

"No one did," Dennis said, his voice firm. "She made sure of it. At first, I thought it was a mistake, that maybe I’d misread her. But it kept happening. In private, she treated me like I was beneath her. In front of you, she acted like a saint."

I let his words sink in, my chest tightening with a different sort of anger—one not born of betrayal, but of manipulation that had existed for years right under my nose.

I hadn’t known that my own younger brother had had his own fair share of ill-treatment from a woman who was supposedly our childhood friend.

Dennis leaned forward, his gaze unwavering. "That’s when I stopped going near her. I finally understood that I hadn’t been mistaken. She wanted you to see her as someone flawless, someone without fault."

I was still digesting his words when he added, his voice quieter but laced with certainty, "And then, I realized why. Wanda wasn’t just a friend, Draven. She had a crush on you. She wanted more."

My eyes narrowed slightly, though inside, I wasn’t shocked. Not after everything that had just come to light.

Dennis continued, "I even saw her threaten a few girls who confessed to you back then. She wanted to keep them away from you."

I leaned back slowly, letting his words settle into place. Pieces of Wanda’s behavior—her possessiveness, her betrayal, her fury at Madame Beatrice—suddenly aligned in a clearer picture.

So Dennis had hated her not without reason. He had seen sides of her I hadn’t.

And now, with her recent actions, it was undeniable—Wanda hadn’t only been a friend. She had long since abandoned that role.

She had been in love with me, and her choices proved she would rather sabotage me than let me slip beyond her grasp.

I felt my jaw tighten, the taste of bitterness on my tongue.

It was pathetic and unforgivable.

I exhaled through my nose and shifted my gaze to my brother.

"Though she is leaving tomorrow," I said flatly, as though the words themselves were an execution order. "This won’t end when she steps into that car. Her father will hear of it—and he will try to use it against me."

Dennis crossed his arms, leaning against the edge of my desk. "Then let him try. You are our next King, and literally the ruler of our race here in Duskmoor. Reginald can bark all he wants from Stormveil, but here?" His lips curved in a hard smile. "Here, you hold the leash."

I gave him a look, half-amused, half-weary. "You make it sound simple. But her father isn’t a man who acts blindly. He will want to know why his daughter was sent away, and Wanda won’t keep quiet."

Dennis tilted his head. "Then we prepare for that. Don’t give Reginald a weapon he can twist against you. Frame it as a reassignment—a relocation for... duties that no longer serve here."

I tapped my fingers against the armrest, considering it. "A clean explanation. But if she opens her mouth about her betrayal, about feeding him my business..." My jaw clenched. "Then the council will sniff weakness."

Dennis’s eyes sharpened. "And that’s where I come in. Jeffery too. Between the three of us, we make sure the narrative is controlled. Wanda leaves quietly. To the rest of the world, it looks like your decision, not her choice. And if Reginald presses—"

He spread his hands. "We tell him nothing more than what you want him to hear."

I studied him, my younger brother who had grown sharper than I often gave him credit for. "You sound almost eager to handle this."

Dennis smirked. "I am. After everything she’s done, escorting her out is the least satisfaction I will get."

I allowed myself a short chuckle before my expression hardened again. "Dennis, I was serious when I said it earlier, I will need you to make sure Wanda is watched until the moment she leaves. I don’t want her slithering around the estate one last time, digging where she doesn’t belong."

"Consider it done, brother" Dennis said immediately. "I will put men and a few servants on her. Discreet ones."

"And like I instructed, Jeffery will arrange the car and the driver." My tone dropped, iron in my voice. "And assign a loyal guard to escort her straight to her father’s house. There will be no gaps, no chances for her to play clever games."

Dennis nodded firmly. "Then it’s settled."

A few moments later, I lifted my gaze to him, steady and unyielding. "If Wanda resists, she will be forced. Quietly. No spectacle."

His mouth curved into a sharp smile. "Finally, you sound like yourself again."

But I didn’t smile back. My thoughts pressed on, already calculating the next moves. Wanda was gone from this house already in my mind, yet the consequences of her betrayal stretched long beyond her shadow.

I leaned back in my chair, exhaling slowly, the decision made. "Good. Then let this be the end of it."

The words hung heavy in the study, but both of us knew the truth—this was not the end. Wanda’s departure was only the first move in a game that had shifted the moment she chose her father over me.