Possessed Wolfless: From Rejected to Vengeful Lycans' Queen
Chapter 125: Gala (2)

Chapter 125: Gala (2)

Lethia wasn’t dumb or naive enough not to grasp Zeran’s point—or so she thought.

On the other hand, she couldn’t deny the thrill that rushed her to turn her ranch on an international scale.

She hadn’t expected him to be thinking that far ahead. But... why did it feel like he was rushing everything?

"Can’t we just... get the ranch back first and slowly build it up to that international scale? I mean... I did have that plan. It was my father’s master plan for the ranch and cheese farm. So, why—"

"If we can kill two birds with one stone, why wait? And..." Zeran paused, looking troubled. "Let’s just say, we don’t have much time."

He looked into her eyes with an intensity she couldn’t explain, and she quickly turned her gaze away, afraid those damn blue eyes might hypnotise her again if she stared too long.

Lethia clutched the fabric of her gown in her lap as her eyes drifted toward the crowd visible from the parking area.

"But I—"

"Are you not confident?" Zeran’s question hit like a challenge, sparking a fire in her gut.

"You said I should just be myself, right? So can I do whatever I want then?"

Zeran smirked. "What worries me is if you hold yourself back."

Then he wrapped his arm around her waist from behind, his palm sliding over her baby bump. He rested his chin on her shoulder, and Lethia froze.

"You are my firefox, after all. Every time you burn, it turns me on." Zeran whispered, his warm breath brushing against her right ear, stirring awake every sensitive nerve she had.

This position—and that filthy tease—clearly wasn’t meant for this place.

She started counting numbers in her head, trying to stop herself from crashing into his lips and ruining her lipstick.

She shrugged off his chin, only to be answered by a low, amused chuckle from him.

Zeran’s car stopped at the lobby, and Lethia spotted a few paparazzi holding cameras by the red carpet like it was some kind of awards ceremony.

Her pulse quickened, but she fought to steady her confidence. Just as she was about to step out, Zeran stopped her.

"Since you’ve become my VIP Aide, you’ll be working more closely with Renar and Caelum as well. They’ll be running the Parliament under my party."

The moment those names left his mouth, it felt like a thunderbolt cracked right over her skull. Lethia turned to Zeran, horror dawning across her face.

"Could it be... they’re here too?" she asked, dreading the answer.

"Of course they are. Besides, the host of this gala wouldn’t let them skip it." He smiled softly, extending his hand to help her down from the car. "Let’s go."

Her stomach twisted. A wave of nausea hit her like a fever and drained her confidence in an instant. She should’ve asked earlier. How the hell could she forget that Renar and Caelum were Tuffin men too?

Reluctantly, she took Zeran’s hand and stepped out of the car. Paparazzi flashes went off instantly, capturing their arrival in bursts of light. But it didn’t rattle Lethia in the slightest.

Facing Renar and Caelum was far more nerve-wracking. Their last encounter hadn’t exactly ended on friendly terms, even though she had offered them her hand in friendship.

Lethia swallowed the lump in her throat in one big gulp as they entered the mansion.

This gala was a grand and big event—surely the chances of bumping into them were slim, right? ’Of course not,’ her gut answered.

The moment they stepped into the main hall, Lethia’s grip on Zeran’s arm tightened.

Not everyone noticed their entrance, busy with their own social business.

But several pairs of eyes did fall on them—sharp stares that pierced her like blades.

They weren’t looks of welcome. No, they were dripping with envy, tinged with disgust.

Still, buried within some of those cutting gazes, Lethia caught sly smiles—admiring, yet deceitful.

"Are you good?" Zeran asked.

"Of course not," she snapped.

"Endure it. You’ll get used to it," Zeran said with a faint smile.

"What the hell is going through these beasts’ minds to make them look at me like that?" she hissed.

"You don’t know?" he leaned in, speaking low near her ear while casually sipping his cocktail. "They’re wondering how many times a day we fuck for you to end up as my VIP Aide. And some are guessing what kind of position we used since you’re pregnant like this."

"Crazy!" Lethia barked, cheeks flushing red.

"That’s what you get with power, status, and an ungodly amount of money. You start craving what money can’t buy. A good companion is one of them, especially one who knows what the hell they’re doing in bed. These beasts... are hard to satisfy."

At first, Lethia only threw Zeran a sharp glare when he spoke, but then something snapped in her head.

Her mind wandered—just how many women had warmed his bed for him to say beasts were hard to satisfy?

She let out a quiet giggle to herself, thinking how later, during their pheromone bonding, he’d be the one needing to satisfy her.

"I should be proud that those eyes are staring at me like I’m the only one who could satisfy the almighty Zeran Tuffin."

"Yeah, some girls might come asking you for tips later."

Lethia chuckled under her breath, the sound edged with mockery.

"Why? Are you not confident?" Zeran’s question caught her off guard.

"I should be the one asking you, sir. The Lycan’s Momma is wilder than a beast."

Zeran took another sip of his cocktail, his eyes sliding to her with a mischievous smile.

In that moment, Lethia realized, despite all his cold, stoic energy, he was actually kind of cute when he smiled.

And immediately, she looked away, mentally slapping herself for even thinking that. How could she find a cold-blooded beast like him cute?

She froze when a hand gently tapped her shoulder from behind.

Turning, she found Chasey grinning widely at her. Relief flooded her chest, finally, a familiar face in this stranger-filled place.

Chasey stood beside Adam, who offered Zeran a respectful nod.

Zeran returned it with a subtle tilt of his head, then leaned in to whisper that he needed to meet an important associate. Lethia reassured him she’d be fine now that Chasey was with her.

Still, she caught the flash of disappointment in Adam’s face—he clearly wanted a chance to talk to Zeran. Apparently, it wasn’t just women going insane over that man.

As she turned to find a spot to chat with Chasey, a woman suddenly crashed into her shoulder, hard.

The tray of desserts in the woman’s hands tipped and spilled, smearing the cake down Lethia’s dress.

"What the—" She stopped mid-curse when she saw who had just slammed into her.

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