Filthy rich werewolves by Taylor Caine

Chapter 8

GRACE

I kept my scarf on while at work. It didn’t hide the bruises on my face, but my neck bore the worst of the

damage, so at least that was covered. When Chris was tearing at my clothes, he’d held me down by

choking my neck.

Aside from a few nosy coworkers giving me odd looks, no one says anything.

It’s hard to concentrate.

Because all I could think about throughout the day—all I can think about now—is if a certain wolf will be

waiting for me when I get home.

I’m not sure what that says about me.

I’m not looking for a relationship. I’m too damaged for something like that. But I won’t mind if Jay sticks

around for a while.

I leave the Sanitation Center and I’m excited to go home. My phone rings and I stop at the edge of the

street.

I recognize the number. “D-dad?”

“You’ve been out of prison for three months now, Grace. If nothing else, you should come home to pay

your respects to your mother.”

I’m speechless.

My mom died when I was three.

Dad remarried only a few months after mom died, and my stepmother gave birth to another daughter,

Evelyn.

My stepmother is only half-wolf. Considering how much my father detests humans, I’m surprised he

wound up with her.

There was never room for me in their new family. My dad told me as much. Not that I understood what

he meant. I was only a child.

I just remember being picked up by my grandparents one day and told I’d be going to live in another

pack.

My dad patted my head and handed me a bag of my clothes.

Then he turned around and went back into his house before my grandfather even pulled away. I didn’t

see him again for many years.

“Did you hear me?” my father asks, dragging me from my memories.

“Yes.”

“Come home.”

Home?

Cummins lands are not my home.

I’ve been exiled.

The ruling Alphas of the region—not my father, he resided over only a very small pack—see me as a

murderer. My human trial was only a formality compared to the pack sentencing.

That…it was like being abandoned by my family all over again.

Because, yeah, I was.

I cast a glance at my right, the street that would lead to my efficiency apartment.

To my left is the road to the bus stop.

I turn left. As I wait at the corner, old resentments swell. My dad didn’t reach back out to me or invite

me home very often. Not for holidays or birthdays. I could attend events for my sister or that required

my presence for pack gatherings.

It wasn’t until I started dating Sean that my father warmed to me. I didn’t see the situation for what it

was at the time. I’d been young and dumb, and just so happy to have my family’s love.

But my dad’s affections died the same night Jennifer Atkinson did. This is the property of Nô-velDrama.Org.

Because in the aftermath of my breakup with Sean, I was no longer of any use to my father. The

alliance he’d been hoping for between his pack and Alpha Sean’s—the one that would’ve brought

incredible resources and prestige…once that was gone, I was done.

I try not to be bitter about it.

But it hurts.

And all the time I was in prison… he never visited. He never called. He didn’t offer to help me get back

on my feet or suggest that I come home for a while to get readjusted to the world.

Still, he’s right. I should make the trip home at least once to pay respects to my mom. When I was old

enough to shift, I’d run for hours and then curl up beside her tombstone. As a rogue, I can’t set foot on

Cummins lands without my father’s permission. And I have to give other packs a wide berth.

I’m not sure I will get permission again anytime soon, so I board the bus when it arrives.

I take a seat toward the back and settle in for the long ride.

The city buildings melt into rural houses then stretches of farms and forest.

My grandfather lives an hour past my dad. We made the run a few times, in our true forms. The

memory is one I will always cherish.

I visit the cemetery first.

I pull weeds and brush away dust, then sink to the earth and sit with my mom for a while. It’s sad but

the connection I felt to her, it’s dimmed.

I’m not sure if it’s because I’m detached from my wolf too.

Or if the three years in prison felt more like thirty and the time has further bridged the distance from the

pain of losing my mom.

I touch the cold tombstone, whisper another prayer, and promise to light a candle.

My mom may be gone, but she will never be forgotten.

When I step into my father’s house, not much has changed. Same layout of furniture. A big dining room

table to allow for packmates to visit. Couches spread out across more than one sitting room. A huge

kitchen that in decades past had been for community use.

Pictures of Melinda—my stepmother—and Evelyn—my little half sister— line the walls.

Pictures of the three of them. Not a single photo of me.

I hear them in the kitchen so I head there. It’s been renovated.

Melinda smiles at me. That’s something, I suppose.

But no hugs or kisses or ‘welcome home’s,’ around here.

“Good. You’ve arrived,” my dad says.

His brown hair has gone grey and his beard is speckled with white too. He’s still wide in the shoulders

and lean. I nod at my stepsister. She inclines her head but otherwise doesn’t move from her position at

the counter where she sips a cup of tea.

I listen patiently as my father and stepmother make small talk. They discuss pack events and planning

for the winter solstice—an event I’m not allowed to attend.

As I stand here, essentially ignored, listening to them prattle on about things they want and need, I’m

dumbstruck.

“What am I doing here?” I blurt.

The three of them look at me and there’s a ripple of tension through the room.

“I appreciate the reprieve to visit mom.”

Melinda purses her lips.

“Will you petition the Council to reinstate me in pack?” I ask.

My dad looks away.

“It’s not easy for your sister to get roles these days,” my stepmother says before he can answer.

“What?” What does that have to do with anything?

I became an attorney to help packs protect their rights and land. My half sister…she’s more interested

in TikTok and being on tv.

“It hasn’t been easy for Evelyn to re-enter the entertainment industry in the wake of … things,” Melinda

continues. “And it’s vital that your sister only accept good roles.”

I have no idea where this is going.

”You know that our family isn't very rich, but your sister just happens to need money right now. How

about... you lend some money to us first, and when your sister becomes a big star in the future, we will

return it to you after she makes a lot of money?”

They don’t want to discuss a way to bring me back into the pack. But they’re fine with taking my money.

The real reason for being summoned home presents itself… The disappointment rises in my throat like

a rush of acid.

“I don't have any money," I answer succinctly.

Melinda’s expression turns stiff. Her penciled brows draw together. “If you were to show your

usefulness to our pack by finding money to support your sister, it might move the council to consider

reinstating you.”

She wants me to buy my way back into my family.

The thought makes me sick.

I shake me head.

She doesn’t relent. “Maybe you don't have money, but Sean does. You dated him before, but as soon

as you had an accident, he broke up with you. Shouldn't he make it up to you somehow?"

Were they really expecting me to beg the man who’d deserted me? The same man who’d helped to put

me behind bars and who abandoned me the moment I got in trouble.

“Alpha Sean is the reason I have been cast out.”

Milena glances away.

I can’t believe their audacity. “I’m sorry, didn’t you, Father, and my sister pretend like you didn't know

me back then? You didn’t stand up for me in court—at the pack Council or in the human realm. Where

were you all when I was in need?”

My father slams his hand on the counter. "So what? Are you here to get even with me? If you hadn't

killed someone back then, your sister would have already been cast as a main actress a long time ago

and would've already become a big star by now!"

I smile sarcastically. Right. All of this is my fault.

For one, I think it’s ridiculous that Evelyn and Lily and other wolves are wanting to be in the spotlight. It

contradicts the ways packs have operated for centuries.

Maybe I’m just sounding like my grandfather, and worried that these new millennial wolves will lead to

our discovery—and downfall—from humans. But I’m not alone in my beliefs.

Evelyn only landed her first job because of me. Because Alpha Sean’s pack owns the Stevens

Corporation and they produce many television series and movies. Sean specifically asked for Evelyn to

be the leading actress. For me.

Later, after we broke up, Evelyn’s role naturally went up in smoke.

"Sis, are you still resentful that we didn't do anything for you when you were in jail?" Evelyn asks

quietly.

Her features are perfect, her skin is smooth. Her long manicured fingers tap, tap, tap on the table.

“Because I think that’s very selfish of you. Your actions damaged our family’s reputation. The Stevens

Pack. The Reed Pack. The Atkinsons of North Moon, West Crescent Pack, the Weiss Pack, Changs.

Harts Ridge. Even the Pack Westons. Every prominent pack on this coast wanted your blood for what

you’d done. What could our family even do? If back then, we had really stood by your side and helped

you, our whole pack would’ve suffered for your crimes.”

But that’s just it…I didn’t commit a crime.

I am innocent.

And Lily Atkinson is the one who attacked me. She’s the reason my grandfather is dead. She should be

stripped of her wolf and cast out. Not me.

But powerful, wealthy Alphas are above the law and enabled to abuse whoever they wanted on a

whim, right? To hell with justice or honor or integrity.

My pack—my family—should’ve stood by me. That was the whole purpose of a pack: to protect its

people. To ensure the survival of our species.

A pack like this… I don’t want to be part of it.

“How could an ordinary family like ours withstand their retaliation?” Evelyn asks.

I don’t have a close relationship with my half-sister or my father. But if the shoe had been on the other

foot, I would’ve fought for them.

I would’ve fought relentlessly.

My eyes burn as this dream of ‘family’ that I’ve been chasing my whole life…it turns to ash before me.

I am nothing to these people. I am a means to an end. They only cared for me when I was of use to

them. And even now, they offer nothing in return but ask for things from me.

Whatever hope I had left dies inside me.

My heart aches. It’s like I’m being rejected all over again, only this is so much worse, because it drives

home the fact that I was never really loved or accepted or appreciated in the first place.

My eyes burn with tears but I blink them back.

My dad approaches me.

There’s something in his expression I haven’t seen before…”Dad?”