Chapter 15

The crowd sucked air like they'd been sucker-punched.

In Galathia Town? Only I ever talked to Joseph like that and walked away breathing.

He was livid, steam practically curling from his ears—but before he could clock what hit him, some wolf scooped it up off the floor.

"Unbound papers? You two really cut the knot?" Zoe gawked at me, eyes bugging like I'd grown horns.

Snatch—Joseph ripped 'em from her paws.

Flipped that maroon booklet over and over, like it'd vanish.

No way. Eyes lied. "This? Bull. Total fake!"

How?

I'd hit every law office in town—his word was iron.

No way any of 'em touched my case.

Then—lightbulb. Brian.

Idiot—how'd I blank on him?

Teeth grinding sparks. "You! You greased the wheels!"

Brian lounged spectator-style, watching Joseph unravel.

That noncommittal shrug? Lit the powder keg.

Lewis and Johnson packs? Oil and fire since forever.

But now?

Brian sniffing around his ex-bound? Joseph's no-go zone, red alert.

"Brian's flown solo forever—no she-wolf on the arm. But tonight? Parading Joseph's fresh-unbound? Gotta be smitten."

"Duh! Gina's a sleeper hit—bagged two Galathia hotshots in one swipe!"

"Clock that jade cuff? Johnson pack's mate-mark! Nagged me earlier—now? Bet my tail it's hers."

The yapping? Kerosene on Joseph's blaze.

Eyes locked on me, murder-bent, stalking close. "Nah—this don't count! Gina, I didn't sign off. Papers? Trash."

First time I'd seen him pull the weasel card.

I cracked up—real, ugly laugh, no filter. "Joseph, what's your play? Don't tell me—now that I'm out the door, you finally get it? I'm the one you can't shake?"

His face locked up, sour as bad milk.

Nailed him—heartstrings plucked.

Deep down? Yeah, he couldn't let go.

Wanted me locked down, but craved Zoe's wild ride—the shiny new toy.

No she'd ever groveled like that, loving him to the dirt. Harsh? Yeah—downright desperate.

Zoe? Fit the bill: zero spine, all yes-wolf. Whatever he barked, she fetched—no dignity, no questions.

That rush? Gina 1.0 never delivered.

Me? Had fire, bucked wild.

Used to drive him nuts—in the good way.

Then? Poof.

Joseph's mouth flapped—zip.

"Why the pile-up? Spill—what's the drama?" Voice from behind snapped the trance.

Brian grinned easy, snagging my paw again, strolling up to the big cheese. "Nothin' to see, George. Meet Gina—my girl. Brought her special for your stamp."

Joseph watched Brian hawk his ex to George—rage cranked to eleven, ready to blow.

Boot twitched forward—assistant clamped his arm, eyes bugging: chill, boss!

We were here for the score, not to throw down with the Johnson juggernaut!

Joseph's glare? Wildfire.

Swallowed it—barely.

Wouldn't end here. No how.

Brian poach his she-wolf? Johnson and that punk were gonna bleed.

Nobody—Joseph, the suits—saw it coming.

Brian and George? Thick as thieves, like uncle and favorite nephew.

Hit Joseph sideways, irritation itching deep.