Chapter Four

The Restricted Floor

POV: Elena

"Going somewhere, Miss Vance?" the lead guard sneered, his voice sending a violent tremor straight down my spine. "The alpha ordered us to ensure you stay exactly where you are. The announcement is about to begin."

Oh, so I wasn't caught. Thank goddess.

Though, my heart still hammered but I refused to let it show on my face. In my first life, I would have cowered and let them guide me back to the ballroom, completely oblivious to the fact that I was walking straight into a trap that would end with my body shattered on the pavement.

But I wasn't that fragile girl anymore. I was a ghost who had already felt the cold embrace of death. You cannot burn someone who has already been to hell.

Think, Elena. Think.

I was practically wolfless. My wolf has been dormant for so long now, entirely useless against five grown, trained gammas. If I tried to fight them physically, they would subdue me in a heartbeat. I had to be smarter.

"Julian wants me?" I asked, my voice dripping with feigned innocence. I took a slow step backward, pretending to tremble as my back pressed against the wall. "Of course. I didn't mean to cause trouble. I just...I felt a bit faint."

The lead guard relaxed his posture, an arrogant, mocking smirk spreading across his face. "Smart choice. Walk back nicely, and nobody gets hurt."

He stepped within arm's reach to grab me.

In that exact moment his guard dropped, my hand shot out. I grabbed the heavy, solid silver ice bucket resting on a nearby display table. With every ounce of strength in my body, I swung it forward, hurling the freezing water, solid ice chunks, and the metal bucket straight into his face.

The impact was a sickening crack. The guard roared in surprise, clutching his bleeding nose as he stumbled backward into his two companions.

"Bitch!" one of them yelled, lunging forward.

I didn't wait and turned, bolting out.

I reached down, violently tearing the high slit of my gown all the way up to my thigh, freeing my legs so I could move. My high heels clicked furiously against the floor as I bypassed the main ballroom doors and dove straight into the private VIP corridor.

"Get her!" The heavy, booming footsteps of the wolves echoed behind me, tearing up the carpet as they shifted into a dead sprint.

The VIP elevator was at the end of the long hall. It was the only lift in the entire estate that bypassed the residential suites and traveled directly to the restricted penthouse floor, the territory currently rented out to the Moretti pack.

I lunged for the wall panel, slamming my palm flat against the scanner. It was our hotel afterall and my comatose father had coded my handprint into the system years ago as an absolute override. The scanner flashed a bright, neon green.

Ding.

The doors slid open and I threw myself inside, spinning around frantically to face the hallway. The remaining four guards were throwing themselves around the corner, their faces contorted in rage, their teeth baring out.

I smashed my fist against the door-close button.

"Stop her!"

The fastest guard lunged, his massive, clawed hand thrusting straight through the narrowing gap. His thick fingers missed my throat by a mere inch, his sharp claws scraping violently against the elevator door.

Thud.

The doors snapped shut, locking his hand out. The elevator shuddered for a brief second before it began its rapid, smooth ascent.

I collapsed against the wall, sliding down until my knees hit the floor, my breath hitching in my throat. My hands were shaking so violently I could barely control them, but as the floor counter ticked higher and higher...38, 39, 40...the terrifying adrenaline began to morph into a dark, dangerous resolve.

I was heading straight into the dragon's den. The Moretti pack was the most ruthless, bloodthirsty syndicate in the entire New York underground, and their Alpha King, Dante Moretti, was a monster feared by everyone, including Julian’s father. He was a cold-blooded killer. But he was also the only man powerful enough to shield me from the wolves outside these doors.

Ding.

The elevator doors slid open, and the bright, glittering luxury of the Vance Gala vanished, replaced by a dimly lit, suffocatingly tense environment.

The hallway was lined with dark charcoal walls, the air thick, and drenched in a terrifying, dominant scent that made my inner wolf whimper in absolute submission. It smelled of deep cedar, rain, and the faint, metallic tang of fresh blood.

Two massive, broad-shouldered men stood directly outside the lift. They wore tactical black gear, their arms covered in heavy, dark pack tattoos. Scar tissue marred their faces, and the moment they saw my dress, their golden eyes flashed with killing intent.

They stepped forward, completely blocking my path, their arms crossing over their massive chests.

"A Vance bitch lost her way?" the left gamma growled, as he stepped closer. "This is Moretti territory, little girl. Turn around and get back in the box before we snap your pretty neck."

I slowly stood up, smoothing down the torn of my gown. I lifted my chin, staring directly into his eyes.

"I am not lost," I said, my voice ringing out with an unshakeable, icy clarity that surprised even me. "I am here to see the King. Tell Dante Moretti that Elena Vance has a deal he cannot afford to refuse."

The two men exchanged a brief glance, amused by my audacity. "The King doesn't take meetings with wolfless trash," the right one sneered, reaching out a massive hand to grab my shoulder.

I didn't flinch. "If you touch me, I will ensure that when I speak to your Alpha, your heads are the very first things I ask for."

That immediately made his hands freeze mid-air.

Taking advantage of their momentary hesitation, I bypassed them completely. I used the sharp heel of my shoe to kick open the doors at the end of the hall, bursting straight into the private penthouse lounge.

The room was vast, wrapped in floor-to-ceiling glass that looked out over the entire skyline of the city. The lighting was low, casting deep shadows across the luxury leather furniture.

Sitting on a massive black leather chair in the center of the room was a single man.

He had his white shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing thick, muscular forearms covered in dark runes. A glass of liquor was held loosely in his right hand and his jet-black hair fell perfectly across his forehead, with a jawline so sharp it looked as though it had been carved from marble.

Alpha King Dante Moretti.

The moment the doors crashed open, his head snapped up. His eyes were a brilliant, piercing gold, glowing with a terrifying intensity in the darkness of the room.

The second his gaze locked onto mine, a sudden wave of his Alpha aura exploded outward, crashing into my chest like a physical blow. It was so intense, that my breath was completely ripped from my lungs.

Dante didn't move from his chair. He just stared at me through the shadows, his golden eyes narrowing slightly.