Chapter 86
Iris's POV
I watched Catherine's desperate eyes searching my face, her expression a perfect mixture of hope and fear. The sound of things breaking inside the mansion created a chaotic backdrop to this little performance she'd arranged. Behind her, my uncle and Kim stared at me with identical expectant expressions, like vultures waiting for a meal.
God, they were pathetic. Still so self-important even when they were drowning.
I deliberately took my time, casually tucking a strand of hair behind my ear while they all held their breath. My handbag felt light against my hip as I slowly opened it, making a show of rummaging inside.
"Sister, hurry up and give them the money!" Kim's voice cracked with panic. "They'll tear us all apart if you don't!"
I didn't bother looking up, but I could feel the weight of their stares. Catherine's smile had an edge of desperation to it, her eyes darting between me and the angry creditors behind her. My uncle kept nervously adjusting his collar, sweat beading along his hairline.
They still thought I'd bail them out. Just like every other time. Show up with money like a good little puppet, bound by obligation and family ties. The same old trick they'd been playing for years.
How fucking laughable.
I finally pulled out a small compact mirror instead of the bank transfer confirmation they were waiting for. The shift in atmosphere was immediate—I could practically hear their collective breath catching.
"No money," I said, my voice perfectly calm as I met their eyes.
I popped the mirror open, checking my reflection with deliberate slowness. My lipstick was still flawless—a deep, confident red. I tilted my head slightly, satisfied with what I saw.
Kim's face contorted with rage. "What do you mean 'no money'? You promised Mom!"
I saw her body tense, the subtle signs of a wolf preparing to attack. My own muscles coiled in response, ready to defend myself if she tried to shift. These people were so predictable—when manipulation failed, they always resorted to force.
Before Kim could lunge, Catherine grabbed her arm, her fake smile still plastered on her face. I almost laughed out loud. Act two was beginning right on cue.
"Iris, darling," Catherine's voice dripped with false sweetness, "I think there's been a misunderstanding. Yesterday, you told me..." She paused dramatically, putting her hand over her heart. "We're all members of the Stone pack. Wolves help each other, especially family."
I watched her performance with detached amusement. After all these years, she still thought I'd fall for the same tired routine—the pack loyalty card, the family obligation speech. As if I was still that naive little wolf desperate for acceptance.
"No misunderstanding," I replied, snapping my compact shut with a decisive click. "As you can see, I really didn't bring any money. And about why I came..." I let my lips curl into a cold smile. "Just like I told you—I'm here purely to watch the show."
The shock on their faces was almost worth the trip back from Italy. Catherine's carefully constructed mask slipped for just a second, revealing the fury underneath.
One of the creditors—a burly man with tattoos peeking out from his collar—pushed past my uncle. "Enough of this family bullshit! When are you giving us our money?"
The tension was building, several of the debt collectors starting to close in. I could see subtle changes in some of them—elongating fingers, sharpening teeth. Not full werewolves then, but something close. No wonder the Stone family was terrified.
Catherine's eyes darted around wildly before landing back on me. Her next words made my blood run cold.
"She's my daughter," she announced to the creditors, pointing at me. "She's Sebastien Grey's marked mate. Take her—grab her, and the Grey family will pay whatever you want for her return!"
I felt a chill run down my spine, but it wasn't fear. It was pure, crystallized rage. Of course. Of fucking course. After everything, I was still just a bargaining chip to her. A means to an end.
I saw Kim's triumphant smile as she lunged toward me. She thought she had the advantage of surprise, but I'd been waiting for this moment for years.
I sidestepped smoothly, catching her arm in a grip that made her gasp. The momentum carried her forward as I used her own weight against her. My hand connected with her cheek in a slap that echoed through the entrance hall.
"That's for every snide comment, every sabotage, every time you tried to tear me down," I hissed in her ear.
Catherine screamed and rushed at me, her carefully manicured nails aimed at my face. I grabbed a fistful of her expensive blowout and yanked hard, forcing her head back before delivering a slap that sent her sprawling into Kim. They collapsed in an undignified heap, staring up at me with identical expressions of shock.
God, that felt good. Better than good—it felt fucking amazing.
The debt collectors were moving toward me now, several of them beginning partial shifts, claws extending and eyes glowing. I tensed, ready for the fight, but kept my expression neutral.
"Perfect timing," I thought as the front door burst open behind me.
My hired security team—all werewolves with impressive builds and serious expressions—flooded into the entrance hall. Within seconds, they had subdued the debt collectors, pinning them to the ground with practiced efficiency. I nodded to the team leader, a grey-haired man with military bearing.
"What the hell is this?" my uncle spluttered, looking between me and the security team with growing alarm.
I stepped forward, making sure everyone could hear me clearly. It was time to end this farce once and for all.
"Get them all out," I ordered, gesturing toward the door. "Every single one of them."
The security team began escorting everyone outside—the struggling debt collectors, my shell-shocked uncle, and Catherine and Kim, who were still trying to regain their dignity.
I followed them out, stopping at the top of the front steps. The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the lawn as I looked down at the assembled group. Catherine was frantically straightening her clothes, her perfect hair now in disarray.
"This house," I announced clearly, feeling a surge of satisfaction, "belongs to me."
The silence that followed was absolute. I savored it for a moment before continuing.
"My father transferred the deed to me before he died," I explained, my voice carrying across the stunned crowd. "It has nothing to do with any of you. Catherine was never my legal guardian, which means her debts—and yours," I added, looking pointedly at my uncle, "have no connection to me or this property. Are we clear?"
I watched realization dawn on their faces. The careful plans they'd made, the years of manipulation, the attempts to use me as a pawn in their games—all crumbling before their eyes.
For the first time in my life, I was the one in control. And God, did it feel good.