After Three Years as a Deranged Alpha’s Sedative, I Faked My Death Chapter 02
Everyone around us finally dared to breathe normally again.
Noah walked over, handed me a tissue, and gave me a mocking smile.
“You’re useful, I’ll give you that. You make a damn good personal therapy dog. With Adrian’s temper, you’re the only one willing to put up with him.”
I lowered my head and pretended to be too humiliated to fight back as I silently picked up the car keys.
In reality, I was already calculating how much I would be paid that day.
Eight hundred thousand dollars in one day.
For that kind of money, I would be his therapy dog and howl on command.
I was an “emotional buffer” hired by Mrs. Black at an extremely generous rate.
Adrian was heir to both the Black Pack’s Alpha position and the most powerful financial empire in New York.
He had been born with strength and Alpha pressure far beyond that of an ordinary werewolf, but he also suffered from a severe condition that triggered uncontrollable rage episodes.
Whenever he lost control, he could no longer recognize even his own blood relatives, and he had once nearly hurt his father.
The best pack physicians in North America and Europe had treated him, but none had ever managed to bring his wolf under control.
Then Mrs. Black discovered that Adrian would calm down whenever I was present.
The reason was simple.
My eyes looked remarkably similar to Selena Moore’s, and even my scent bore a faint resemblance to hers.
Selena was the woman Adrian had once chosen to become his Luna.
Three years earlier, she had decided he was nothing more than an uncontrollable lunatic, accepted the Black family’s money, and left for Europe.
Adrian hated her, but he had never stopped missing her.
That made me the perfect substitute.
I came from an ordinary background, had no pack backing, and bore no mate mark.
I was exactly the kind of substitute they could humiliate and trample on however they pleased, as long as they paid me.
Everyone believed I loved Adrian so desperately that I had thrown away every last shred of dignity.
I woke at six every morning to make his breakfast, and in winter, I stood in line for three hours in Brooklyn just to buy the bagels he liked.
Whenever he drank at a private club in Manhattan, I waited in the corner and served him drink after drink.
Whenever he lost his temper and smashed something, I crouched on the floor and picked up every shard of broken glass.
Even Adrian believed the performance.
He was convinced I could never leave him and equally convinced that I loved him so much I had lost my mind.
Two weeks later, his birthday party was held at Soho House in Manhattan.
The private lounge was dim and heavy with alcohol, and the mingled scents of heirs from different packs made my head spin.
I wore a cheap white dress and sat quietly beside Adrian, barely noticed as I drank one glass of hard liquor after another on his behalf.
My stomach had already begun to churn, but I kept the same gentle, devoted smile on my face.
It was an important occasion, and overtime paid double.
Then the phone Adrian had left on the table suddenly lit up.
Only one name appeared on the screen.
Selena.