Chapter 156
I could tell immediately that this guy had been hired by someone trying to discredit me. Probably Lorcia, I thought with a smirk. But I wasn’t worried–not in the slightest.
“Let me answer that question for you.’
Before I could respond, a middle aged man in a suit walked over, holding a thick stack of information in his hands.
“Here are the documents that Cheryl submitted when she competed in the past, enough to prove that
he is Cheryl herself.”
I saw Gregor in the audience squeeze his eyes at me and didn’t hold back a smile, knowing he’d have it all set up for me..
My old rival also came out in support of me.
“I’ve raced against Cheryl for years. There’s no doubt in my mind–this is her,” he said firmly, silencing the reporter.
With that, the doubts vanished. The voices questioning me faded into nothingness, replaced by cheers of support. I glanced into the crowd and spotted Lorcia, her face twisted with frustration. She had spent a fortune trying to ruin me, and instead, her efforts had only boosted my popularity. I couldn’t help but smile, knowing her plan had backfired spectacularly.
As I stepped backstage, still buzzing from the win, I found Lorik waiting for me with that familiar mix of pride and worry in his eyes. He pulled me close, his arms strong yet gentle, and I could feel
his heartbeat steady against mine. “You were incredible out there,” he murmured, his voice soft with
admiration, but there was an undercurrent of concern I couldn’t ignore. Every time he watches me
race, it’s the same–he’s proud, yes, but there’s always that flicker of fear for my safety.
I tried to shake it off, to keep things light, but the way his hand lingered on my arm, the warmth in his gaze, made it harder to deny the pull between us. It was more than just concern; it was something deeper, something I wasn’t ready to admit just yet.
Just when I thought the moment might turn into something more, my phone rang, breaking the mood. I pulled it from my pocket, glancing at the screen. It was an unfamiliar number.
“Hello?” I answered, my voice still a little breathless from the race.
Ms. Shirley, I’m Freya and my Alphatira would like to see you.” Beta Freya said, her tone serious,
After 1 Let Go My Alpha. He Knelt in Regret
“She has something important to discuss.”
1 frowned, feeling the weight of the request. The Rouge Pack was no small matter. Whatever this Alpha Tira wanted, it wasn’t going to be simple. I glanced back at Lorik, who was still watching me
intently, his eyes filled with concern.
A day later. I met Tila at the agreed upon hotel, who, despite her position as Alpha of
as Alpha of the R
Rouge Pack, remained calm and poised. Her eyes were sharp, yet her manner gentle, as she shared the
news.
Tve recently come across something remarkable,” Tira began. “Several manuscripts by the famed composer Viktor Rosenhall.” The name sent a jolt through me. Rosenhall was a legend, an inspiration for countless musicians,
0
“These manuscripts,” she continued, “are over three hundred years old, and thought to be lost forever. They’re incomplete, damaged in many places, but there’s no record of them ever existing
until now.”
I could hardly believe it. Viktor Rosenhall’s music, resurfacing after all these years? It was a dream. But there was a catch. “I need someone with your expertise, Shirley, to restore them. I’d like you to come to my pack–to Rouge’s territory–and help us repair these treasures. And I’ll pay you handsomely, whatever price you name.”
Her offer was enticing, but the thought of going to Rouge’s Pack? It made me hesitate. “Let me think about it, I said, uncertain.
That night, Lorik found out. He always had a way of hearing things. He came straight to my cottage: knocking insistently on the door. I knew what he was going to say, so I didn’t open it at first. But as the rain poured down, I realized he wasn’t going to leave. Reluctantly, I stepped outside to meet him.
He was soaked through, his hair dripping, but his eyes burned with intensity. “You’re not going,” he said firmly. “Rouge’s Pack is dangerous, Shirley. You know that.”
I crossed my arms, feeling defensive. “It’s my decision, Lorik.”
“No, it’s not just your decision!” he snapped. “Do you have any idea what you’re walking into? You think you can just waltz into their territory for some manuscripts?”
“They’re not just ‘some manuscripts,” I retorted. “These are Viktor Rosenhall’s scores! If I don’t help restore them, they could be lost forever.”
He knelt in R
