Chapter 156
Chapter 156
Fiona's POV
"Caleb, I need to ask you to do one more thing for me."
As we prepared to part ways, I handed Caleb a power of attorney that I had already signed and sealed.
"I want to commission you to handle all the property I've inherited. I need everything liquidated."
Caleb froze for a moment, then furrowed his brow. "If you need money, Fiona, I can help you figure something out. These assets belonged to you and your parents—real estate that shouldn't be disposed of lightly. I hope you'll think this through carefully."
"No." I shook my head firmly. "Caleb, what I need isn't a small sum. What I'm planning to do can't rely on others' charity forever. Also, regarding the commission fee—charge me the highest market rate."
"Are you joking?" Caleb looked at me in disbelief. "I could never take money from you, Fiona. Helping you with this is something I'm doing willingly. I don't need any compensation."
"That won't work." I met his gaze with calm determination. "Caleb, if I can't even learn the most basic principles of fair business dealings, how am I supposed to move forward? Please do as I've asked."
"All right, everything according to your wishes." Caleb glanced down at his pocket watch—it was getting late. He asked if there was anywhere else I wanted to go. I told him I wanted to look around the estate one more time.
Caleb seemed worried. "Will you be okay alone? I mean, what if... you encounter something triggering or unexpected? I'm concerned you might lose control again, and with no one around..."
I smiled and shook my head. "What if I told you I haven't lost control once in the past six months—would you believe me?"
Aside from the first two months when Claremont had given me regular injections of some medication, I hadn't tried any other methods to suppress my rampaging bloodline. Yet somehow, I'd gradually discovered I could freely control the wolf spirit within me. Both my healing abilities and combat strength had reached their full potential.
I attributed all of this to fate's final blessing.
When life reaches a point where you know what must be done—and that you must do it—it seems all obstacles naturally fall away.
"Don't worry, Caleb. I know how to handle myself. It's been over a decade since I've been back here. Before it welcomes its new owner, I think I have every reason to take one last look."
I declined Caleb's offer to accompany me and walked alone from the cemetery, crossing two small hills until I reached the vast grounds of the Sterling estate.
The manor, untended for over a decade, resembled ruins forgotten by time itself.
What had once been meticulously trimmed hedges now grew wild and untamed. Climbing roses had nearly swallowed the entire colonnade whole.
The fountain I remembered had long since run dry, its basin thick with fallen leaves. I ran my hand over the weathered marble statue, my fingertips coming away coated in dust.
This had been my mother's and my favorite place. She used to love sitting here on quiet afternoons reading poetry collections while I chased butterflies around the fountain's edge.
I couldn't reconcile the warm memories with the blood-soaked scenes described in that diary.
Perhaps ensuring such tragedies never happened again was the true meaning behind everything I was doing now.
Rounding the corner of the main house, I suddenly stopped in my tracks.
The brick wall covered in wild roses still stood, though the blooms had long since withered, leaving only tangled dead branches trembling in the wind.
The fir trees beyond the wall remained tall and straight, and within them seemed to drift a certain familiar scent...
My heart began to pound violently. In my mental landscape, Rita started growling uneasily, her hackles raised.
From the other side of the wall came the faintest sound of breathing, gradually synchronizing with my own rhythm. We stood there separated by a wall draped in withered vines, as if divided by entire misaligned dimensions of time and space.
I knew someone stood there—someone tall, whose presence carried a heavy weight of authority.
I thought I should know who he was, just as he surely knew it was me.
The dead branches made a keening sound in the wind. I opened my mouth but ultimately couldn't form a single word.
The footsteps on the other side of the wall quietly receded, leaving only shattered fragments of evening sunlight on the ground.
I pressed my hand against my racing heart and found my palm slick with cold sweat.
I supposed we had seen each other, in a way—we simply hadn't spoken.
Alexander...
The pain of rejection had gradually faded into memory, but I had never forgotten what it felt like to love him so deeply.
Similarly, even now I had never doubted his feelings for me.
It was simply that at that time, I hadn't been the one he chose with unwavering conviction.
That was all.
---
Back in the Underground City, time seemed to speed forward on fast-forward.
Every day I devoted myself to keeping this subterranean community running. From reviewing blueprints for the northern district's water purification plant to overseeing the textile factory's first batch of rough but warm fabric, from Professor Claremont establishing a hospital to treat mixed-bloods who would once have been left to die—every corner bore traces of my efforts.
What had once been a hellscape reeking of filth and violence had been replaced by order.
Watching children who had once fought over scraps like feral dogs now wearing clean uniforms and reciting lessons in the schoolhouse, seeing women who had once sold their dignity now earning wages through honest work in the factories—an unprecedented sense of accomplishment filled my chest.
I had pointed to the circled areas on the map and made a solemn vow: within three years, this place would achieve self-sufficiency in production capacity. When that time came, we would possess the resources to emerge from behind these walls and trade as equals with surface society.
Mixed-blood werewolves would have the same voice in this world as full-blooded werewolves and humans alike.
But prosperity inevitably casts shadows.
As the Underground City expanded, the resources we stockpiled and the order we established became like a beacon in the darkness, unavoidably attracting those who coveted what we'd built. Outcast wolves expelled by various Packs lurked like hyenas on the periphery of our territory, constantly watching for opportunities to tear away a piece of flesh.
"Fiona, the western defense line was attacked again—this time by One-Eye's gang! They made off with two cartloads of coal!"
Raymond burst into my office, fury written across his face, his hand gripping the iron rod he'd worn smooth with use.
I set down the planning diagram I'd been studying, my gaze instantly turning cold.
This kind of boundary-testing behavior demanded a thunderous response. Otherwise the Underground City would never know peace.
By the time we reached the western district, the fighting was nearly over. Raymond and his men had held the checkpoint, but the attackers—desperate outlaws who outnumbered our defenders—were still putting up stubborn resistance.
"Everyone stop!" I commanded sharply.
My golden pupils narrowed to vertical slits as I released the full pressure of the Golden Wolf bloodline without restraint.
The chaotic battlefield fell instantly silent. Those outcast wolves felt the suppressive force emanating from the depths of their very blood. One by one their faces went pale, weapons clattering to the ground.
"It's the Golden Wolf! The one who disrupted the coronation ceremony!"
Someone recognized me.
Clearly, even without my name appearing on any wanted posters, enough people had learned to fear it.
"It seems we need our own warriors. An army. Perhaps even... a government."
I surveyed the wreckage-strewn square and instructed Raymond to stay behind and help clean up the aftermath.
I intended to discuss this with Professor Claremont.
But just then, an unusual presence made me halt mid-step.
That sensation...
"Who's there?!" Raymond reacted instantly, positioning himself in front of me, a growl rumbling in his throat.
"Fiona? Is that you? Is it really you?"