Chapter 343 The Predator’s Trap
<b>Leslie’s </b>POV
“John… please… I really can’t drink anymore…” Amelia’s voice trembled.
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“Can’t drink? Miss Amelia, weren’t you the one who asked me out? Didn’t you say that as long as I break my contract with Rogue Pack, you’d do anything?”
That greasy voice carried smug mockery. “Drink it! As long as you finish this ss, I’ll agree<b>!</b><b>” </b>
I had no interest in watching such a pathetic spectacle and was about to leave.
But just then, the door to the private room burst open. Amelia stumbled out and crashed right
into me.
Her tear–stained face was flushed unnaturally from alcohol. Confusion flickered in her eyes, then, when she saw me clearly, a glint of malicious calction shed across them.
She clung tightly to my arm and dragged me into that room, thick with the stench of cheap liquor and hormones.
“Alpha Leslie! Please, you have to be the judge! John… he’s forcing me to drink!”
She cried as if all of this were anyone’s fault but her own foolishness–ming it on my presence instead.
I frowned in disgust and tried to pull my arm free.
On the sofa sat the man they called John. His drunken eyes leered at me as he slurred, “Another one? You’re… you’re even hotter than Amelia… hic… Pretty girl, if you drink this for her, I’ll break off my contract with Rogue Pack. How about it?”
He actually staggered toward me, clutching his ss, that fat, greasy hand reaching as if tond on my shoulder.
Amelia’s eyes lit up with desperate hope. She pleaded, “Leslie, it’s just one drink! Please, just drink it! If you do, I can give my family an answer!”
Iughed, but the sound was cold as ice.
A worthless low–level alpha and a reckless Omega dared to think they could order me around?
“In my dictionary, the word ‘substitute‘ doesn’t exist.” I stared at them as if they were nothing more than filthy insects.
<b>18:57 </b>Mon<b>, </b><b>Sep </b><b>22 </b>
Chapter 343 The Predator’s Trap
<b>31 </b>
Finished
The next second, before John’s mmy hand could touch me, my body reacted instinctively- an alpha’s blood–deep, primal defense against an offender.
I didn’t waste movement. My leg shot up fast, the sharp toe of my stiletto driving mercilessly into his swollen gut.
“Aaaargh-”
The wail that tore from his throat didn’t sound human.
The drunken leer froze on his face, reced by a purplish, pig–liver shade as he crumpled to the floor, clutching his groin like a pile of garbage.
The color drainedpletely from Amelia’s face. She stared at me in horror, her lips trembling. “You… you dare…”
I was about to throw the useless woman out when the door suddenly mmed open from the outside with overwhelming force.
The impact knocked Amelia to the floor.
A tall, lean figure stood framed in the doorway, backlit by the corridor lights. It was as if all brightness had been swallowed by his presence, leaving only a cold outline gilding his body.
The air was instantly swept clean by a stronger, far more invasive alpha pheromone.
Kirby.
His sharp, cold gaze swept across the room. When he saw I was unharmed, the tense line of his jaw eased for an instant.
But then his eyes fell on John writhing on the ground and Amelia trembling in fear. A storm surged in those deep eyes, icy and merciless enough to freeze everything in its path.
Send Gifts
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<b>18:57 </b><b>Mon</b><b>, </b><b>Sep </b><b>22 </b>
Burn in the Alpha Princess’s Wrath