Free Web NovelChapter 81: Chapter 81 Return to Frostfang’s territory
Sylvia’s POV
I rolled my shoulders as I stepped out of Noah’s car, offering a final wave before heading back to the office.
Being CEO of Frostline Enterprises came with a weight I both craved and sometimes feared—especially knowing how many pairs of eyes were constantly watching, waiting for the slightest misstep.
The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the Frostline building’s glass facade as I made my way inside.
The security guards nodded respectfully, their eyes lowering slightly—a wolf’s instinctual response to an Alpha.
My wolf stirred beneath my skin, pleased with the acknowledgment but still restless.
Ever since I’d stopped suppressing my true nature, she’d become more demanding, more present.
The inner harmony I’d expected to feel after embracing my Alpha bloodline remained elusive.
The elevator chimed, and the doors slid open to the executive floor.
I straightened my spine, letting the familiar mask of composed authority settle into place like armor.
Whatever storm brewed inside me, it had no place here.
Winning the Vertex contract had been a major milestone—not just for the company, but for me. A personal victory. A statement.
But celebration could wait. Right now, my job was to make sure the Vertex project launched without a single flaw.
This wasn’t just another deal—it was our first collaboration with Vertex Enterprises.
A test. One we couldn’t afford to fail if we wanted a long-term partnership.
I exhaled slowly and reset my focus. freēwēbηovel.c૦m
Business first.
Every detail had to be perfect. No room for missteps.
Proving myself worthy of the Frostfang legacy meant more than carrying the name—it meant setting the standard. And exceeding it. Every damn time.
"Ms. Frost," my assistant called as I passed her desk. "Your mother—I mean, Alpha Astra—requested to see you as soon as you returned."
I nodded, changing direction toward my mother’s office. Soon, perhaps, it would be mine officially.
I knocked on the heavy oak door, entering when I heard my mother’s crisp "Come in."
Alpha Astra Frost sat behind her imposing desk, every inch the powerful leader she was.
Even in her designer suit, there was something distinctly predatory about her posture—a reminder that before she was a CEO, she was a warrior who had fought to keep our pack strong through decades of challenges.
"Sylvia," she acknowledged, gesturing to the chair across from her. "How did your meeting with Noah Smith go?"
I took a seat, holding her gaze. Alphas didn’t look away first.
“Productive,” I said. “He has a sister with autism. And he’s talented, sharp, and refreshingly sincere. I gave him a preliminary draft—he’s going to revise it based on his own insights.”
She nodded, though her eyes never stopped analyzing me. “Good. Noah’s highly sought after—his design work is internationally recognized. If we can secure him as a long-term collaborator, Frostline’s innovation division will gain a serious edge.”
I thought back to my time with Noah—his quiet focus, the way his whole expression softened when he spoke about his sister.
There was a sincerity to him I didn’t often encounter in this industry, especially not among the self-important designers who seemed more interested in pushing personal branding than actual results.
“He’s easy to work with,” I added. “I’ll make sure we keep him on board.”
My mother’s expression didn’t shift, but her approval was evident in her next words. “Going forward, you have clearance to leave the office as needed to meet with him. No need for formal leave requests. This project takes precedence.”
“I understand,” I replied evenly, keeping my tone neutral.
Internally, I couldn’t help but think: Well, that works out. One less bureaucratic hoop to jump through.
Back in my office, I lost myself in work.
The steady rhythm of emails, calls, and strategy meetings helped distract me from thinking about Caesar, about our arrangement, about the bond that pulled at me every moment we were apart.
When I finally looked up, the office beyond my glass walls was dark, nearly empty.
Most employees had gone home hours ago.
I stretched languidly, my body protesting the long hours hunched over my computer.
The wolf in me craved movement, freedom, a run through the forest under moonlight.
Instead, I shut down my laptop, shoved my things into my bag, and made my way to the elevator—where I had the distinct pleasure of contemplating my entire existence as I descended in slow, mechanical silence.
Maybe it was time to retreat to Frostfang territory for a few days.
If my mother asked, I could say Caesar was busy with Very Important Wolf King Things™ and I didn’t feel like playing lady of the manor all by my lonesome.
Technically true. Emotionally evasive. Spiritually exhausting.
Because the real reason? I was running. Not from Caesar exactly, but from what being near him was starting to awaken in me—something warm and dangerous and way too real.
I stepped out into the night air with a sigh that probably echoed off the parking lot asphalt. This whole thing—agreeing to marry Caesar Freaking Conrad, the literal King of Werewolves—had started as a power move.
Now? It felt like playing chess with someone who kept moving the pieces closer to my heart.
The lot was nearly deserted. I hadn’t driven in, planning to call a car. Adulting, but make it Uber.
I pulled out my phone, opened the app, and had just tapped “Confirm Ride” when a voice sliced through the quiet like a blade dipped in fury.
“Sylvia. You did this on purpose, didn’t you?”
I jumped, my phone nearly slipping from my grasp as adrenaline surged through my system.
My wolf instantly came alert, hackles raised, as I spun around to face the unexpected threat lurking in the shadows.
