Fake Mating To My Ex's Powerful Enemy

Chapter 134: Chapter 134 Dinner Trap

Christina’s POV

Preston saw my hesitation and pushed down on my shoulder again.

I gripped the table edge, ready to hurl a plate at him, when Preston sent a mind-link to me. His voice appeared in my head.

"Chill out. Maxwell can’t even get it up. He’s harmless. Just sit still and look pretty."

I gave him my deadliest glare.

He backed away.

I slowly turned to examine Maxwell again.

His lips parted in what I assume was supposed to be a charming smile but looked more like a predator eyeing its next meal.

His skin had that waxy sheen of someone who hadn’t seen daylight in years. His eyelids drooped and blinked so slowly I wondered if he was about to fall asleep.

"He probably gets winded opening his car door," Akira snarled inside my head.

I reluctantly sat down.

Preston’s hand finally left my shoulder.

He circled the table, filled Maxwell’s glass, then poured one for himself. "This is Gary Maxwell, Elder from The Sabreridge Pack and Senior VP of Corporate Procurement. This is my cousin, Christina Vance."

The Sabreridge Pack member, and an elder at that. My father was planning to work with The Sabreridge Pack? Well, as the temporary "Luna" of this pack, I wanted to see exactly what they were up to.

Franklin’s voice boomed through my head via mind-link. "For the pack’s sake, be nice. The Crescent Pack needs this contract."

Out loud, Franklin chuckled. "Come on, Christina. Say hello. Give Elder Maxwell a toast."

I stared at the wall and kept my mouth firmly shut.

Franklin’s fake smile twitched. "She’s... reserved. Not much for small talk. Let’s eat."

Still blocking the door, he signaled for the waiter.

Food started arriving in waves. Prawns bigger than my thumb. Roast duck glistening with sauce. Asparagus spears covered in sauce that probably cost more than most people make in a day.

No drinks yet, but the spread could’ve fed a small wolf pack meeting.

I counted the plates. The bill would easily hit four figures.

"They really want whatever Maxwell’s selling," Akira observed.

I felt eyes crawling up my arm. Maxwell hadn’t stopped staring since I walked in.

His breath wheezed out like a broken accordion. His elbow "accidentally" brushed mine.

I shoved my chair sideways with a scrape that echoed through the room. The legs dragged across the tile floor, startling a nearby server.

Franklin snapped, "What the hell is wrong with you? Show some manners."

He sent another mind-link to me, his voice sharp in my head. "If this deal goes through, I’ll transfer you some money. Just shut up and behave for once."

I rolled my eyes.

He forced a laugh. "Let’s eat, shall we? Elder Maxwell, how’s the spread? If anything doesn’t suit your taste, we’ll order something else."

Maxwell’s gaze remained fixed on me. "It’s perfect."

He definitely wasn’t talking about the food.

At least he kept his hands to himself.

Eventually, he started discussing business with Preston and Franklin, droning on about procurement cycles and contract clauses for The Crescent Pack’s company.

His attention shifted away from me, and I could finally breathe normally.

I sat rigidly. My fork remained untouched. I refused to drink the water.

Preston broke the business small talk. "Elder Maxwell, regarding the project, any updates?"

Maxwell’s cheeks pulled tight in a smile that made his eyes nearly disappear into fleshy folds. "Almost at the tender stage."

"You must be swamped. We appreciate you making time for us."

Franklin jumped in, raising his glass. "Yes, thank you for fitting us into your schedule. Cheers."

After sipping, he leaned closer and lowered his voice. "If the contract comes our way, The Crescent Pack will be... extremely grateful."

He raised two fingers behind his glass and flicked them once.

I caught the gesture.

Twenty thousand? Twenty million? Twenty percent kickback?

Maxwell didn’t react. He reached for his fork. "There’s a process. We’ll follow protocol. The food looks excellent."

Franklin nodded eagerly. "Of course, absolutely. Let’s enjoy the meal."

I cleared my throat.

"Elder Maxwell, friendly warning: you should avoid The Crescent Pack’s shipping division. It’s tiny, outdated, and they’ve racked up violations higher than their forklifts. Total disaster zone."

They tricked me into this dinner. They locked me in with this creep under false pretenses.

Fine. If they wanted drama, I’d give them the director’s cut with bonus features.

"Last I heard, tax investigators showed up unannounced at the warehouse. If you sign with them and they disappear in a month, you’ll be chasing shadows. Just looking out for your interests."

All three men stared at me with identical expressions of horror.

Franklin’s mind-link hit me like a sledgehammer. "STOP THIS NOW!"

He slammed his palm on the table. "What is wrong with you? Shut your mouth and eat!"

Preston’s voice strained like he was being strangled. "Elder Maxwell, she has no idea what she’s talking about. She’s just being childish. Please ignore her. She doesn’t even work for the company. I’m the CEO, and I assure you our books are pristine, permits current, and our record is spotless. Everything’s completely legitimate."

Maxwell looked annoyed briefly, then forced another smile. "No problem. I guess Christina was just teasing you. Family dynamics, right?"

He shifted in his seat and leaned toward me.

His thick, greasy fingers crept toward my thigh.

I smacked the back of his hand with enough force to make a satisfying crack.

"Ow! Damn it!" he yelped, jerking back like I’d electrocuted him.

His smile vanished instantly.

Franklin looked ready to throw his drink in my face. "Christina! What the hell? You don’t hit an Elder! Apologize to Elder Maxwell immediately!"

I flexed my wrist casually. "He should thank me. There was a mosquito. I killed it. And if it comes back, I’ll kill it again." freeweɓnøvel.com

Maxwell chuckled without humor. "Feisty. I like that in a she-wolf."

His eyes remained cold and calculating.

I ignored his attempts to make me drink and kept fidgeting with my steak knife, making sure he noticed.

He kept his hands to himself after that.

The rest of dinner dragged on like a funeral procession.

Preston repeatedly circled back to the project, slipping in reminders about deadlines and logistics between pointless small talk.

I half-listened, knife in hand, occasionally admiring its sharpness.

Every few minutes, I’d casually drop another fabricated issue about The Crescent Pack’s operations.

Faulty equipment. Leaking warehouse roof. Unpaid workers. A rodent infestation that would make New York sewers look sanitary.

Franklin glared daggers. Preston kicked me under the table hard enough to bruise.

They both clearly regretted bringing me here.

Good. Mission accomplished.

Franklin made one last desperate attempt. "If The Crescent Pack gets the opportunity to work with Laurent Global Holdings, we’ll prioritize this partnership completely. Give it our absolute best. Elder Maxwell, this arrangement would benefit you personally too. Win-win, wouldn’t you say?"

I looked up from my water glass and stared directly at Maxwell.

So this creep was with Hudson’s company. Interesting.