Christina’s POV
Hudson raised his hand, silencing both won. "Enough. I don’t care who ca up with what. You’re both clearly involved."
His gaze settled on Gwendolyn, ice in his eyes. "Want to keep lying? Fine. Your husband can rot in Africa for another three years."
Hudson then turned to Rowan. "And you. You failed miserably overseas, so you crawled back here desperate. Guess what? I’ll make sure your company kicks you out even faster."
Rowan’s face drained of color. "Hudson—"
"Don’t call that. I’m not your friend." His voice was razor-sharp. "I’ve already deleted your number. I suggest you do the sa with mine. We’re done."
He reached for my wrist. "Let’s go."
I followed him out, the show finally over.
"Is it really over?" I asked as we exited the hospital. "Now that you’ve exposed their evil plot, will they actually back off?"
Hudson’s jaw tightened. "They know better than to try again."
He paused thoughtfully. "But to make absolutely sure..."
He pulled out his phone and dialed. His conversation with Dominic lasted less than five minutes.
"What did you ask him to do?" I asked after he hung up.
"Just making a few calls."
It wasn’t until later that afternoon when he sent screenshots that I understood what he ant.
Dominic had sent him an update:
[Rowan lost her spot on StarSignal, the show where she was supposed to make her debut. Her brand partnership with Zaphir skincare fell through. Other collaborations are dropping one by one.]
I scrolled through the list.
Eight projects canceled.
Even with her agency offering to lower her fee, no one would work with her.
Then another update ca through.
[Rowan vaguely bragged on social dia about performing at the Highrise Charity Gala, even adding the hashtag. A minute ago, the event organizers replied directly to her post: "No invitation was extended to Ms. Hale."]
I could almost see Rowan reading that ruthless disclair, watching everything crumble, losing everything in ten minutes flat.
I didn’t feel an ounce of sympathy for her.
My phone screen lit up with Priya’s na.
I answered imdiately.
"Christina! Alpha Niall just stord into the recording studio. He found out Dan is his brother or sothing, and now he’s screaming that you and Dan tricked him. He’s demanding you co explain yourself. Oh shit, they’re fighting now!"
Behind her voice, I heard massive crashes, tal scraping against tile, and heavy objects slamming against walls.
Hearing Niall’s na, my first reaction was annoyance. Why couldn’t he take his family drama sowhere else? Why my studio?
A year ago, I might have called Louisa to ask what was happening.
But since breaking our engagent, we’d barely exchanged pleasantries, let alone comfort.
"They won’t stop," Priya said, more worried than scared. "Dan won’t back down, and Niall looks ready to kill him. Christina, I can’t get between them, please—"
More crashing sounds. Glass and furniture.
I could hear the impact of fists landing.
"I’m not coming back. I don’t care why they’re fighting. You should stay far away from them. I don’t want you getting hit because they can’t handle their daddy issues."
"But—"
"There’s nothing valuable in the studio, no jewelry pieces. Let them wreck it; they’ll pay for it. If anyone’s bleeding, call an ambulance. Just don’t get involved."
"Okay."
I hung up.
I’d planned to check out Ysolde’s new store, but now I just wanted to go ho and sleep. My waist still ached.
A few minutes later, Priya called again.
"The Frostpelt Pack elders showed up," she said. "They’re handling it. Both Niall and Dan are injured, Dan more severely. They’ve been taken to their pack hospital." She paused. "The studio’s a ss again."
I sighed. "I’m on my way."
I couldn’t let Priya deal with this disaster alone.
When I arrived, the street was empty and the elders were gone.
Inside, the door hung half-open, the tal fra slightly bent at the hinges.
The place looked like a madman with a baseball bat had gone through it.
Computers were smashed, monitors scattered on the floor with cracked screens.
Tables were overturned; chairs strewn about, so broken in half with stuffing spilling out.
Blood stained the white tiles in two directions, thick and dark, already drying at the edges.
I didn’t want to know whose it was.
I started working, clearing glass shards, dragging chairs into a pile, picking up splintered wood.
Priya helped in silence.
We’d filled two garbage bags before I finally collapsed into one of the few intact chairs.
My shoulders were tense, and my palms stung from old wounds.
The bell on the door jingled.
Niall stood in the doorway.
His shirt was half-buttoned, one sleeve haphazardly rolled up.
His lip was split.
A fresh bandage wrapped around his neck, another around his wrist.
His jaw looked swollen, an unhealthy grayish-green.
Priya shot up. "Are you insane? You just left the hospital and you’re back for round two? I swear—"
He ignored her, his gaze locked on .
He limped inside.
"Just tell one thing. You knew all along he was my father’s bastard, yet you kept seeing him. Were you trying to get back at ?"
I stood up and stepped back three paces.
"No," I said coldly, "I don’t know. And it’s not my problem. Your family drama has nothing to do with ."
Niall glared at like he wanted to burn a hole through my skull with his eyes.
"You know what my dad just told ? Thirty percent. He’s giving that bastard thirty percent of the company shares. I’ve been busting my ass at that company for five years and I don’t even have thirty percent. But he just hands it over to so nobody who ca out of nowhere."
He didn’t give a chance to say "I don’t care and I didn’t ask" before continuing, "He ca straight to your studio the minute he got back to Highrise City. You two must have been talking about behind my back for months. What’s the plan? Cut out so you can split my inheritance between you?"
"Don’t flatter yourself," I said. "You’re not that important."
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