Reborn And Remade: The Wolfless Bride's Revenge

Cori Stanton POV:

Ignoring the venomous glare from Brenda behind me, I addressed Winston directly. "Mr. Winston, the ceremony can wait a moment. There are some logistics to handle first."

"As you wish, Miss Stanton," he replied, his politeness unwavering. He showed no trace of the disdain I was used to receiving for my "wolfless" status, a stark contrast to the Stephensons.

I pulled the still-warm severance agreement from my pocket and handed it to him, pointing specifically to the clause regarding the alliance gifts.

Winston read it carefully. A flicker of surprise crossed his features, but he masked it instantly, returning the document with a respectful bow of his head. "I understand, Miss Stanton. The Alpha's orders were to accommodate all your reasonable requests."

I nodded, then turned to face Brenda and Beryl, who had followed me into the hallway. I held up the agreement. "According to this legally binding contract, all gifts provided by the Ramirez Pack for this alliance are now my personal property."

Beryl, incandescent with rage, lunged for the document. Pierce, perhaps trying to prove his loyalty to the Stephensons or simply caught in the moment, made a move to intercept me, a desperate plea on his face. Before he could take a single step, two towering warriors who had been standing silently behind Winston moved, blocking his path without a single wasted motion. One of them, with a casual flick of his wrist, sent Pierce stumbling back against the wall, a yelp of surprise escaping him.

A wave of powerful Gamma-level energy washed off them, and Beryl, an Alpha himself, visibly paled and froze. Pierce, a minor Alpha's son, was utterly cowed, shrinking against the wall. In the werewolf world, rank was absolute, and these men outranked him in raw power.

I turned back to Winston and gave my first command as a free woman. "Mr. Winston, please have your men take all Ramirez Pack trucks and the gifts within them to a new address I will provide."

Brenda shrieked. "You can't! Those things have already been unloaded into our warehouse!"

I smiled. "Oh? That makes it even simpler. Mr. Winston, please have your men go to the Stephenson warehouse and retrieve all of my personal property. Reload it onto the trucks."

Pierce, recovering his breath, tried to appeal to me again. "Cori, please! Don't do this! The Pack needs those resources!" His voice was a desperate whine, a stark contrast to his earlier smooth demeanor.

I glanced at him, a cold, dismissive look in my eyes. "You're in no position to tell me what the Pack needs, Pierce. You never were."

Winston didn't hesitate. I felt a ripple of mental energy in the air as he issued a command through the mind-link. Though I couldn't hear the words as a wolfless, the intent was clear. "Rick, Leo, a new task. Go to the Stephenson's warehouse. Empty it. All alliance gifts are to be reloaded. Miss Stanton is our new principal."

Less than thirty seconds later, a dozen more uniformed Ramirez warriors emerged from various points around the manor, moving with the silent, disciplined efficiency of a special forces unit. They marched directly toward the warehouse.

Beryl tried to order the Stephenson guards to stop them, but his men wouldn't even meet the eyes of the Ramirez warriors, let alone challenge them.

Celeste collapsed into Brenda's arms, sobbing. "Mama, what are we going to do? The Pack's finances..."

Brenda was shaking, her gaze fixed on me as if she could kill me with sheer hatred. But she was powerless. This was a legal, hostile takeover, and she knew it.

I leaned against the wall, listening with satisfaction to the sounds of heavy crates being moved and the shocked gasps of the Stephenson servants. Every thud was a hammer blow to Brenda's and Beryl's pride.

I could feel the luck of this Pack draining away with every item removed. Among the gifts was a moonstone amulet, an heirloom from my mother that had protected this Pack for years. They had stolen it from me after her death. Now, I was taking it back.

"You'll pay for this! You ungrateful wolf!" Beryl screamed at me, his face purple with impotent fury.

"Pay for what?" I replied coolly. "I'm just collecting what's mine."

After twenty minutes, a warrior named Rick White reported back. "Mr. Winston, Miss Stanton. All items have been secured and loaded."

Winston turned to me. "The destination, Miss Stanton?"

I gave him the address of a high-security penthouse in the city center. This is the first safe house I secured for myself.

Winston nodded, relaying the new orders. I watched as a convoy of heavy trucks rolled down the long driveway and out the main gates, kicking up a cloud of victorious dust.

The Stephenson servants whispered and pointed from a distance.

Brenda stared at the empty driveway, then crumpled to the ground, letting out a guttural, animalistic wail of despair. Beryl's face was a mask of gray defeat. The Stephenson Pack's financial ruin was now sealed. Celeste's eyes were dry, filled with nothing but pure, unadulterated venom.

I adjusted the collar of my worn pajama top as if brushing off a piece of lint.

"Alright," I said to Winston. "We can go now. I imagine my 'fiancé' is getting impatient." I stressed the word "fiancé," a final, parting shot for the family I was leaving in ruins.

Winston opened the door to a black Rolls-Royce that had been waiting discreetly. As I was about to get in, I looked back one last time at the house that had been my prison for twenty years.

Beryl made one last, desperate lunge toward me, but he was restrained with contemptuous ease by the Ramirez guards, held like a struggling toddler.

I slid into the plush leather seat. The heavy door closed, shutting out the sound of their screams and curses forever.