Possessed Wolfless: From Rejected to Vengeful Lycans' Queen-Chapter 12: Who is She?

The cold air in the room only added to the pounding in his chest as he awaited his boss's reaction to the unwelcome news. But he had no other choice—this was critical.

Still, his boss showed no intention of acknowledging him, eyes remaining closed in deliberate indifference. The man decided to just drop the next line, one that would likely hit like a punch to the face.

"There's a problem with our flying car, sir. Renar Tuffin was seen riding it from Brookwood to Terenian Hospital."

Just as he predicted, those words finally earned a reaction.

From the glass reflection, he saw his boss's eyes snap open, a deep frown carving between his brows. In one swift motion, he spun his chair around and stubbed out his cigar in the ashtray.

His icy blue gaze darkened, the dim lighting of the office casting sharper shadows over his features.

The sight alone sent a shiver down the secretary's spine as he swallowed hard, waiting for his response.

"What did that kid do?"

That low, baritone voice—calm yet heavy with authority—only reinforced the weight of his presence.

The secretary, fully aware of what that question meant, knew he had to report everything in precise detail—the entire sequence of events, down to the last consequence.

Carefully, he began explaining how Renar had taken the flying car, how someone had caught it on video, and how it had ended up uploaded on Videotube.

But that wasn't the real problem.

The aftermath was.

"So, we have to pay a fine to the government for violating an air traffic law that's still under discussion..." The secretary let his words hang.

"And?" The boss asked, like he already knew another mess was coming.

"And public opinion is getting worse. People are losing trust in our company, and our stock keeps plummeting because some stakeholders are selling it off massively."

"Tch. Those ungrateful lapdogs." The boss leaned back in his chair, twirling his branded pen between long fingers.

A cold sweat gathered at the secretary's temple. The silence meant his boss was calculating something.

"Just pay the fine. And buy back all the dumped stocks—under my name."

"Wh—what? A-All of it, sir?" The secretary's eyes widened.

"Yes. What's the company's total loss after that?"

The secretary tapped rapidly on his tablet, muttering under his breath. "Still around three million creds, sir."

"Hm. Send me a full background check on the woman that kid saved."

"What details do you need, sir?"

"All of them. A debtor should pay back the debt with its interest."

The secretary swallowed hard, watching as his boss pushed back his chair and stood.

He should've known. The moment the man decided to buy back all the stock tonight, he had already calculated the next steps.

Whatever he was planning... the poor woman was unlucky enough to get tangled with these men.

The soft hum of an engine echoed through the underground parking lot as the boss settled into his car.

He popped open the glove compartment, grabbed his routine pills, and swallowed one with a slight grimace—disgusted by its bitter taste.

A notification lit up his phone. His secretary had sent the requested files.

"So, this is the woman who made that unbothered brat break his character." A low, mocking smirk played at his lips, like he had just found something interesting enough to break his boredom.

***

The arrival exit at Ashenhold Airport was a chaotic mess—girls and boys, werewolves and humans, all crammed together, waving LED signs and hologram headbands flashing love-struck messages.

The deafening screams from the zombie-like fans had the dark silver-haired man nearing the exit slipping on his sunglasses and mask, shielding his exhausted face after over 14 hours in the air.

"Cael, should we just take the VIP route? The crowd's bigger than usual." The big guy—built like a damn tank—tried to reason with the actor.

"It's fine, Joe. They just miss me, and I can't let them down, can I?"

Joe only sighed, nodding before signaling the other bodyguards to secure the actor's path.

The moment they stepped out, a wave of screams hit like a damn tsunami. The guards barely kept up, swatting away camera drones desperate to snap a shot of the star.

Pushing through the hysteria, they finally made it to the black van, and the actor wasted no time hopping in. The doors slammed shut, and the vehicle sped off, leaving the madness behind.

"I guess my last scandal didn't hurt my fame that much, considering I didn't get egg-slapped tonight," the actor quipped, his tone light, aiming to thaw the ice-cold glare from the woman sitting beside him.

"Don't worry, I've got one."

Without warning, her hand swung—fast.

Craacckk.

A brutal, bone-jarring sound filled the van, followed by the actor's agonized groan.

"What the FUCK did you just hit me with?!" he whined, rubbing his poor, abused forehead.

But the woman just smirked, casually peeling the boiled egg she'd just cracked against the actor's forehead.

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Without a shred of guilt, she popped a piece into her mouth and savored it like she was enjoying a five-star meal.

"You deserve more cracks than just this boiled egg, Caelum."

"Why are you so heartless? I did what you asked, didn't I? Look, I'm here instead of sunbathing on Aidos beach."

"With Aidos bitches?" she scoffed. "You only came back because I threatened you with your pathetic scandal. So behave. The election is just around the corner."

"Dear almighty princess Callista, I told you—I don't give a damn about that election."

"Tsk, like you even have a choice."

Callista ignored Caelum's endless whining and focused on the holographic screen in front of her, scanning for any unfavorable news about him.

"Hey... sister, are you even listening to me?"

Without a word, Callista grabbed his cheek and turned his head toward the floating screen.

"Look, you've been trending #3 just twenty minutes after landing. Do you get how important your fame is?"

Caelum, who had been frowning moments ago at being ignored, instantly grinned when he saw his name lighting up the Lykonweb search trends.

Scrolling through the articles praising him, he giggled to himself, absolutely basking in his own glory.

No matter how pissed he was about being dragged back to Ashenhold, there was a certain satisfaction in seeing his fans still worshipping him like some divine entity.

Their devotion? Undeniable.

His fame? Unmatched.

His army of minions? Ever loyal.

As Caelum leisurely scrolled through the sea of posts praising his existence, dropping likes like a benevolent god, his frown deepened. 'Why the fuck am I not trending #1?'

Curious, he tapped on the title that had dared to dethrone him from the top spot.

Before Callista or the driver could react, Caelum howled with laughter, his entire body shaking like he'd just been possessed.

"Who—who the fuck is this?" he gasped between fits of cackling, struggling to regain control.

"Who are you talking about?" Callista arched a brow before glancing at his screen.

A small smirk tugged at her lips—yeah, she'd expected this reaction. It was the exact same one she'd had when she first saw that video.

"This... this Flying Stiletto woman... She—she's amusing. Totally my type." His smirk deepened. "Fuck, I like her!"

Still wheezing, Caelum hit the replay button. His eyes practically sparkled with admiration as he watched the clip of the maroon-haired woman effortlessly hurling her stiletto—dead-on target—shattering her pack crystal display.

His heart ached in admiration, his grin widening as he zoomed in on her face, utterly mesmerized.

***