Lion's Counterstrike
Lion's Counterstrike
\-Alpha Hartman-
My heart burned with fierce determination as I paced back and forth in my study, my steps heavy on the rug, phone pressed tightly to my ear while Sofia's voice came through clearly from Blake's mansion, every detail she shared fueling my rage.
Why did she lose the flagship spot to that wretched girl?
The coincidence of Matilda's sudden comeback, right at the moment when my plans to control SCN through hidden channels were hanging by a thread, felt like fate mocking me directly.
No, it was clearly Blake's doing, pushing her forward just to humiliate me and get what he wants.
I stopped abruptly by the window, my fingers gripping the sill tightly, the city lights blurring below as my domain slipped away slowly.
"Give me all the details, Sofia. Every single move he made," I demanded, my voice low and gravelly.
"He defended their team-up. He gave them his full vote of confidence. He forced the decision to make her project the flagship show," she replied, her tone biting with anger, jealousy thick in every word.
Good girl. Stay close and keep feeding me everything. "You have dinner with him tonight. He agreed," I said. My laugh came out short and bitter. Perfect bait.
"Play sweet. Probe him deeply. Record it if you can." I ended the call crisply, my mind already racing multiple steps ahead, my chest heaving as plans stacked up high.
Blake thinks he controls everything, but he is wrong. I will counterstrike now and crush all his pieces silently.
Why is SCN so crucial? Matilda's investigative fire will expose rogues and clear out my rival packs, leaving mine free to claim vast territory. No.
Her show will die before it even launches. Motive one, I will poison the well.
I dialed quickly, my voice smooth as I spoke to my deep contact inside SCN's tech department.
"Tap the head of programming's line completely. Every call, every text." My fingers tapped the desk rhythmically as I hung up swiftly.
Her scripts will leak tomorrow, twisted with false facts, sponsors will pull out instantly.
Blake will scramble, and I will buy low and own the entire network outright.
"Sir, the rogues are ready?" My beta's voice interrupted as the door creaked open softly. I turned slowly, my gaze piercing into his.
"Double their numbers. Hit Blake's borders tonight. Leave marks that look human, frame the hunters." He nodded quickly and exited silently.
I will create chaos as bait. Rogues will swarm his lands, drawn mad by Matilda's blood, then that nossy inspector Harrison will take the bait and tie her directly to the attacks, tainting her show live on air.
The public will scream about the hunter threat, SCN will pull the plug fast, and Blake's hero act will crumble to dust.
The dinner is perfect for Sofia to slip truth serum into his drink, my special brew, completely untraceable.
He will spill his pack codes and ally names, and I will strike surgically to wipe out the threats before dawn.
My phone buzzed, the tap on the head of programming was live.
"I am sorry, boss. The whole situation went out of control. Some girl got the slot, and her program is going to be the flagship one." My grin twisted cold.
He is groveling to his real superior without knowing I hear every word. "Fix it. Make sure her project fails," I said, my voice like steel, hanging up sharply.
I will definitely spread internal rot. That girl, my planted agent, will corner Matilda soon with a fake leak that sabotages the project digitally.
Sofia will fan the flames, and Tyson will feed dirt straight to Harrison. Blake will end up completely isolated as his allies turn against him.
The prophecy binds him to her blood, if I wait, she grows stronger and unites his pack into iron.
I must strike while she shines only briefly and shatter everything before her roots grow deep.
I sat heavily in my chair and pulled out the map quickly, my pen circling Blake's weak spots, his north borders are thin, and his east allies are wavering.
The rogues will hit in coordinated waves, followed by my elite wolves to claim the land bloodlessly.
"Father, is the plan set?" Sofia texted, with a false heart emoji.
"Execute the dinner perfectly. Win us the empire." I replied swiftly, my chest surging with triumph.
I will later set the marriage trap. After the chaos, Blake will be desperate and offer to renew the alliance, Sofia will wed him fast, and my bloodline will rule both packs supreme.
Her hunter rival will be discredited and vanished quietly. Why stay so calm always?
Rage only blinds you, but strategy claims thrones for eternity, the lion's poise devours entire packs whole.
My beta returned with his report in a low voice. "The rogues are moving. Harrison tailed Blake earlier, he is frustrated."
Excellent. I will push him even harder; my forged prints will be planted soon. My fingers drummed the chair arm steadily as my mind wove all the threads tightly.
Blake's flagship launches in one week, I have exactly seven days to bury it completely.
Sofia dines tonight and spills the first seeds. The head of programming twists the scripts at dawn.
The rogues strike at midnight. Harrison takes the bait tomorrow. Matilda falls by midday.
Blake kneels by the week's end, I was deep in my thoughts, wheny phone rang, it was an old ally, the head of a rival pack.
"Hartman, I heard about the shift at SCN. Shall we join the strike?" His voice was eager, thick with the promise of power.
"It is done. Your wolves take the east flank." The alliance was sealed smoothly, and I hung up calmly.
Blake's arrogant grace mocks the youth I lost in endless wars, he rises as a pretty boy while I built everything from graves.
I will crush him totally, make my daughter queen, and secure my legacy eternal. Because this coincidence has become so perfect.
Matilda's win echoes my first crushing loss decades ago, fated revenge, and now the circle closes in blood red.
I stood tall, my gaze hard on the map as my pen slashed the final mark, his mansion core and i will make him beg for mercy.