Free Web NovelChapter 98: Chapter 98 Continue Cold War
Sylvia’s POV
I had spent the last nine hours juggling back-to-back meetings, two crisis calls, and a marketing budget proposal that somehow still wasn’t finalized—despite three rounds of so-called “final” revisions.
Half my team was on edge, the other half was still waiting for me to approve next quarter’s strategy deck.
By the time the office lights dimmed and the building emptied out, I was running on caffeine, adrenaline, and a growing headache.
I wasn’t sure which would give out first—my patience or my ability to pretend everything was under control.
I headed straight to the parking garage and slid into the driver’s seat, my fingers tapping an absent, restless rhythm against the steering wheel.
But my mind wasn’t done working.
It kept circling back to the same problem: Zane.
If he had the audacity to show up at Frostline again, I needed to be ready.
This passive approach wasn’t working—it was hurting productivity, morale, and our bottom line.
I wasn’t running a charity. I was running a company. And on that point, at least, Alpha Astra and I saw eye to eye.
There was no logic—none—in continuing to entertain Zane’s games.
What I needed was something definitive. Clean. Ruthless.
A single move that would end his interference once and for all.
The question gnawed at me the entire drive back to the house.
I played out scenario after scenario, each one more flawed than the last.
Somewhere deep beneath my carefully layered control, my wolf growled—restless, impatient. She wanted action. So did I.
Still distracted, I stepped through the front door without checking who might be coming out.
The collision was instant.
My forehead smacked straight into a wall of muscle and expensive cologne.
"Are you alright?"The voice was deep and familiar, concern wrapped in that controlled tone I’d come to know so well.
Rubbing my forehead, I looked up into Caesar’s impassive face.
Those eyes betrayed nothing, but the tension in his shoulders told a different story.
"I’m fine," I replied, suddenly aware of how close we were standing.
The bond between us hummed quietly, like a distant radio signal I refused to tune into.
I tried to step around him, desperate to retreat to the sanctuary of my room.
Caesar’s hand caught my wrist, and yeah—damn it—my skin actually tingled.
Like some rom-com curse where your ex touches you and your nervous system forgets it has dignity.
His carefully curated stone-face cracked for just a second.
Real emotion flickered in his eyes—raw, unfiltered, and absolutely not convenient.
“Sylvia,” he said, voice low and weirdly sincere. “Can we talk? Please.”
Ugh. The "please" was what did it.
We stood there like two boxers in a ring—no bell, no referee, just a whole lot of unfinished business and emotional shrapnel between us.
The silence stretched between us, heavy with all the things we’d never said.
Everything had changed since Helena’s arrival.
The fragile balance we’d built was shattered, leaving only jagged edges that cut whenever we came too close.
I finally pulled in a breath, slapped on a smile so fake it could’ve been sponsored by a reality show, and said, “Caesar, this isn’t your mess to fix.”
My voice was light, but it burned on the way out.
“Come on,” I added, twisting the knife. “"Besides, ours was just a convenient marriage, wasn’t it? For our families’ benefit. Why should we pretend feelings matter between us?"
Caesar studied my face with an intensity that made my wolf whimper.
She knew I was lying—we both did.
But I’d spent three years perfecting my mask for Zane; deceiving Caesar was just another performance.
He took a step closer, voice barely above a whisper. “Is this really what you want, Sylvia? To be ice cold?”
His words were soft, but the look in his eyes? That hit like a sucker punch.“Are you really this heartless?”
A laugh escaped me—sharp, bitter, way too loud for the moment. “Seriously? You’re asking me that? ”
I pulled my wrist from his grip and walked past him, forcing myself not to look back.
My wolf howled in protest, begging me to turn around, to tell him the truth—that I was terrified of being second choice again.
That I couldn’t bear watching him choose Helena the way Zane had chosen Chloe.
But I kept walking. Pride was all I had left.
Author’POV
Helena watched the exchange from the shadows of the hallway, barely containing her glee.
The revelation that their marriage had been arranged—a mere transaction for mutual benefit—was better than she could have hoped.
This made everything easier. Caesar would be hers; it was only a matter of time.
Helena’s lips curved into a cruel smile as she pulled out her phone. "I can’t wait to see you fall apart when you lose everything."
Her fingers flew across the screen, composing a message to Zane: *Making progress on my end. Keep pushing—I’ll support whatever move you make against her.*
—
Miles away, in the luxurious master bedroom of the Stoneclaw Alpha’s mansion, Zane’s phone vibrated on the nightstand.
He paused mid-thrust, earning a frustrated whimper from Chloe beneath him.
"Don’t stop," she moaned, arching her back as she ran her nails down his muscled chest.
Her honey-blonde hair fanned out across his silk pillows, her skin flushed with desire.
Zane growled possessively, pinning her wrists above her head with one hand while reaching for his phone with the other.
The Alpha in him enjoyed the display of dominance, how she submitted so eagerly to his every whim. fɾēewebnσveℓ.com
So unlike the challenge Sylvia had always presented, even in her fake Omega persona.
The message from Helena made his lips curl into a predatory smile.
Their alliance against Sylvia was proving fruitful—Helena providing insider information from Caesar’s household while he attacked from the business angle.
"What is it?" Chloe asked, pouting as she rolled her hips against him impatiently.
Zane’s eyes darkened as he tossed the phone aside and returned his full attention to his mate. His movements became rougher, more demanding, his mind filled with images not of the woman beneath him, but of Sylvia Frost on her knees, begging for forgiveness.
The thought fueled his passion as he gripped Chloe’s hips with bruising force.
"Nothing important," he grunted, determined to finish what they’d started before formulating his response to Helena. "Just another piece falling into place."
Soon, he thought, very soon, he would make Sylvia pay for her deception.
With Helena’s help, he would destroy everything she had built—her reputation, her company, and even her marriage .
