CHAPTER SEVENTY

CHAPTER SEVENTY
Valerie quickly dialed the number she had memorized as soon as Seraphine left.

“Who is this?” a sharp female voice snapped on the other end. Valerie couldn’t help but smile—this was so like Nyla. Annoyance bubbled through her voice the instant she saw an unfamiliar caller ID, a habit formed from past scams.

“It’s Val,” Valerie said.

“Val?” Nyla’s tone held genuine surprise. “My fierce Luna Cel? I’ve called, messaged… Why didn’t you answer? Your phone’s been off constantly.”

Valerie felt a rush of relief mixed with worry. Nyla had tried repeatedly to check on her. “Yes, Ash… I mean, Nyla, it’s me.” She paused, debating whether to respond to all the questions at once. Finally, she asked, “Where are you?”

“Ravenport. How’s dad? And Brielle?” Nyla’s voice carried excitement, muffled slightly by music in the background. Valerie could guess Nyla was out enjoying herself, likely in one of the city’s bustling nightclubs.

Valerie stiffened. Nyla might be a powerful warrior, but she was still among humans—completely unaware of the turmoil in the pack.

“Ash, when was the last time you visited the Wolfsbane Pack?” Valerie asked, her voice losing its lighthearted edge.

The music made Nyla raise her voice. “Since dad disowned me… I haven’t. Is everything alright? Whose number is this? Look, I can’t stay long. I kinda got myself into some trouble.”

Valerie’s worry deepened. If Nyla was in danger in Ravenport, she might be powerless to intervene.

“Dad… he’s dead.”

“What? How?” Regret and panic laced Nyla’s voice—she had missed her father’s final moments.

“It’s a long story… his body hasn’t been recovered. I was mated to Alaric, but he and Brielle betrayed me. He’s now…”

“Val, I’m losing you!” Nyla’s panicked tone cut off abruptly, replaced by screams and sounds of chaos.

“Ash! Nyla?” Valerie shouted, but the line went dead. She tried redialing, but the phone was off. Low battery? Or something worse? Her mind raced. Even if she could reach her, she might not be able to intervene—Nyla was strong, but humans posed their own dangers. Still, a sense of dread settled over Valerie.

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Meanwhile, in Duskwatch City, Don Thorne was maneuvering his Obsidian Lynx Hypercar through the bustling streets. Suddenly, a deafening gunshot rang out. The car veered uncontrollably, flipping before landing a few meters away. Flames began to engulf the vehicle.

Don leapt to safety, barely avoiding the blaze, his instincts honed by years of survival in the mafia world. Sirens, fire trucks, and ambulances converged nearby. From above, a sniper perched on a high-rise scanned the chaos with a steady aim.

As Don drew his phone, rising from the street, he weighed his options. Walking to his Obsidian Hall Offices would take twenty minutes; sprinting could get him there in ten. He chose the latter, determined not to be intercepted by the authorities.

“Don Thorne, my sniper confirmed you survived. This is only the beginning,” a familiar, arrogant voice sneered over the line.

Don’s expression hardened. “Ravano. You’ll pay for this.”

Five years earlier, Don Ravano had fled to Italy after run-ins with the law. At that time, Thorne’s influence in the underworld was minor, barely a threat. Now, Don had grown into a force to be reckoned with.

“I assume you want to know why I sent the sniper?” Ravano continued. “I knew he would fail, anyway.”

Don was mid-sprint, processing the threat while his beast, Kaelion, remained restrained. “That doesn’t excuse the attempt on my life. You’ll answer for this.”

“You bodyguards overstepped their bounds,” Ravano accused.

“They follow my orders,” Don snapped.

“That’s why I sent the sniper—to get your attention.”

A chill ran down Don’s spine as Ravano spoke again. “A woman is at your casino for an interview. She’s being held there right now. They won’t let her leave.”

Don narrowed his eyes. “Who?”

“Elowen James. Don’t complicate this—she belongs to me,” Ravano said firmly.

Don knew instantly who Ravano referred to, yet he asked anyway, wary. “And if your hands are clean, why threaten her presence at the interview?”

“Don’t speak as if she’s a possession,” Don retorted silently in his mind.

“She doesn’t deserve to live… not after stealing from me,” Ravano continued. Don doubted the claim, sensing a hidden motive.

“You attempted to kill me in secret. If I don’t reach you within eight hours, I will shut down every casino I own and hand all the profits over to you,” Don raged, his icy tone vibrating even through the call. Ravano, taken aback, trembled slightly. Don had matured into a far more dangerous adversary than before.

Before Ravano could respond, the call ended. Don immediately contacted Ronan. The precision with which Ravano had tracked him indicated Ravano’s knowledge of his immediate location. Don’s devices were never just for convenience—they were security tools.

“Ronan, lock down the casino. No one in, no one out. I’m almost there,” Don ordered.