Free Web NovelChapter 69: Chapter 69
Aria’s POV
It was Peter.
He was sitting in a VIP room at some downtown bar, the entire place drowning in spinning neon lights, too bright and too loud even through a screen. The air looked thick with cigarette smoke and cheap cologne. My wolf immediately bristled, ears flattening at the chaotic energy spilling from the footage.
Peter sat at the center of it all.
Even with the dim lighting, I could see the flush on his cheeks. He was drowning himself in alcohol.
Peter never drank like this.
My chest tightened. My wolf let out a low, uneasy growl. fгeewebnovёl.com
"What’s the matter, Mr. Clinton? Not going to give us the courtesy of a toast?" a man with a swollen beer belly sneered. His voice oozed smugness through the speakers as his eyes swept over Peter like he was prey cornered in a den.
Predator instincts prickled along my spine. My claws burned beneath my fingertips.
Why are you letting them talk to you like that, Peter?
Another woman leaned forward, swirling her champagne like she was stirring poison into it."We genuinely admire your talents, Mr. Clinton," she purred, her tone soft but dripping with ice."Now that you have lost everything, We’d love to help you. But the way you’re brushing us off? It’s honestly disappointing."
I froze.
Lost everything, what the hell did she mean by that.
Peter’ lashes lowered, casting a shadow over his expression. Even through the screen, I sensed his exhaustion... and something worse. Resignation.
Under the weight of their mocking gazes, he lifted a glass and swallowed it in one gulp.
The moment the alcohol hit, I could see the subtle twitch at the corner of his eye. The burn must’ve hit hard. Peter was never good with alcohol, always avoiding it unless absolutely necessary.
What was happening? I wondered trying to process everything.
Another glass slid in front of him, pushed forward by a manicured hand tipped with blood-red nails.
The woman smiled sweetly, venom shimmering in her eyes."Mr. Clinton," she said, leaning in close,"let’s see more of that sincerity, shall we?"
Her breath fogged the air between them, warm and cloying.
Even through the shaky phone recording, it made my skin crawl.
Peter didn’t move, he didn’t flinch.
Lights blinked across his face cold blues, violent reds, like the world around him was spinning faster than he could keep up.
Glass after glass appeared in front of him, lining up like soldiers waiting for the execution command.
Everyone else went still.
No one picked up their drinks.
All eyes were on him.
My claws slid out before I even realized it, tips scraping lightly against the phone case.
Peter... what are you doing?
Why are you letting them do this to you?
My heart thudded painfully against my ribs, filled with a dread I couldn’t shake.
I felt truly afraid for him.
Laughter swirled through the bar in the video, low sharp and mocking. Each jeer cut like claws dragging across metal.
Peter kept drinking.
One glass.
Another.
And another.
I watched his throat move as he swallowed, watched the liquor burn its way down and spread through him like wildfire. His hand flew to his stomach, his body curling with pain.
My wolf pressed against my skin, ears pinned flat.
He can’t handle alcohol. Stop. Someone stop him.
"Didn’t Mr. Clinton always say he was allergic to alcohol? Looks fine to me," a voice jeered from the crowd.
"Bet that excuse was just because he thought he was too good for us!"
Another chimed in, louder, nastier,"Not so high and mighty now, huh? Looks like Mr. Sam finally brought him to his knees."
The camera shifted. The supposed Sam’s greedy face filled the frame, his eyes sparkling with triumph. I recognized him now, he was also a lawyer. He lifted his phone and zoomed in on Peter—on his trembling hand, his half-shut eyes, his body collapsing in slow motion.
He was recording Peter’s humiliation.
For entertainment, for leverage, for pure cruelty.
My vision tunneled. A growl rose from deep in my chest before I even realized it.
I grabbed my keys.
Next thing I knew, I was out the door.
---
The bar’s hallway reeked of stale smoke and desperation. My wolf hated it—hackles lifted, instinct screaming danger. I followed the pinned location straight to a private VIP room.
Inside, a syrupy, taunting voice floated through the air.
"Come on, Mr. Clinton, are you drunk? One more drink won’t hurt."
That was it.
I shoved the door open without hesitation.
The sudden burst of cold hallway light cut through the neon haze, and the whole room fell silent.
Peter was slumped on a couch, his tall frame folded in on itself. His skin was ghostly pale beneath the shifting lights. His hand was clamped over his stomach like he was trying to hold himself together. A soft groan escaped him, low, pained and helpless.
My wolf whimpered, then bared her teeth.
I stepped close to him, my jaw tight.
How dare they touch him? How dare they push him this far? freēwēbnovel.com
The lighting was dim enough that no one saw my face, just my silhouette.
I dropped to my knees beside him."Peter... hang in there," I whispered, sliding my arm behind his shoulders and lifting him gently.
That’s when I saw it.
A thick stack of cash spread across the table in front of him.
So this was the price of his suffering.
This was what they made him drink for. His fellow lawyers were making him drink for money.
My breath left me in a sharp exhale. I’d been in prison, I wasn’t scared of money. And I’d long stopped caring about pride if it meant survival.
Without even thinking, I reached out, grabbed the entire stack of money, and shoved it into my bag.
Gasps rippled through the room.
Yes. I took it.
He drank for it, so I would take it.
As I tried to lift him, reality hit me.
Peter might look lean, but unconscious, he was impossibly heavy. Six feet of dead weight was no joke, even with my wolf strength humming under my skin.
A few younger lawyers, ones who still had beating hearts, quietly stepped forward and helped me carry him out.
I kept my head down, letting my hair fall forward, my mask hiding most of my face.
But I could feel their curious gazes.
"Who is that woman? Does Peter have a girlfriend?" a woman’s voice hissed behind me. It was the same woman who had been taunting Peter in the video.
