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IN A WAR TO HAVE HER. Novel Cover

IN A WAR TO HAVE HER.

To settle her gambler father’s massive debt to the powerful Cole, Nancy enters a forced marriage contract with the wealthy heir. However, the arrangement shatters when Cole’s brother, Fredrick, abducts her to claim her for himself. While Cole remains unaware of his brother’s betrayal, Nancy must endure captivity. She is torn between her growing bond with Cole and Fredrick’s relentless obsession. Will she find a way to escape both men or choose a side?
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Chapter 1

Nancy's POV

The car's horn couldn't stop at the gate for a long period of time. I wasn't downstairs to know who could be honking endlessly.

I was busy cleaning up my bathroom and toilet when I heard a voice coming from the parlor. One of the voices is Dad's and the other belongs to a man I don't recognize.

Their voices were so unfriendly. Though my dad has a hostile voice, which makes him sound like he wants to devour anyone while speaking.

Since I knew him, he has been speaking with a loud voice. My mother told me she feared marrying him because of his voice. She started talking to him about it at one time.

However, Dad cannot change because he is used to talking loudly.

I also noticed there was some argument, and the stranger's voice was getting louder. For my dad to calm down, speaking calmly made me think that he could be guilty of something.

I catch a whiff of his scent, and it tells me two things, Stranger and

I can easily listen in on their conversation from up here.

Then again, they're so loud, I'm sure even a human would hear them from the next town over. "If I don't have my money by the time I count five times, I'm going to tear your throat out," The stranger threatened.

I'm not paralyzed by fear or anything like that. Okay, maybe a little. Mostly, it keeps reminding me that there could be a problem going on with my father and the others.

So I thought of quickly rushing to the parlor to know what was going on, but on the contrary, I should be in the middle of a matter I know nothing about.

However, a better daughter might run to the parlor to save her father, but I don't budge from my spot in the bathroom. I'm not paralyzed by fear or anything like that. Okay, potentially a little. Mostly, I just keep reminding myself that I shouldn't care.

My father and I aren't best of friends, and he doesn't give a damn about me as much as he should since I lost my darling mother.

I bet if our roles were reversed, he wouldn't bother saving me. It's only fair that I return the favor. He can get out of this mess on his own.

Just as my mind made up, Dad started shouting from the sitting room. He's had years of practice, so his baritone is loud enough to make the walls shake.

"Julie! Get yourself here this minute!"

I'm so used to Dad's yelling that it doesn't really bother me anymore. Plus, like I said,

I really don't want to get mixed up in his mess. Still, I jumped out of my bathroom, left the cleaning, washed my hands, and rushed down to the parlor.

I plan to stay out of the way if I can, but I know that if I take too long obeying an order, there will be consequences. If Dad somehow manages to get out of this mess alive, that is to say he is very lucky.

I get more and more worried with each step I take while coming to meet him. We may not have whatever money Dad owes. We're so short on cash that even with the little job I am doing, last time I checked the money in my bag, it only had fifteen dollars and a handful of coins.

The fifteen can't pay for cigarettes and beer, and if we didn't hunt, we'd starve. Anyway, the fact that we have a money bag, we keep money, and not a bank account like normal people mostly sums things up.

So I got worried, why is Dad calling me? Does he plan to blame me and say I stole the money? Actually, knowing Dad, it's possible, and makes me worry even more.

He could be very funny but not to come and ridicule me before the wolf for something I know nothing about. My heart kept pounding, and I got worried about the whole thing.

Dad embarrassed me in front of his guests? Not that I expect Dad to be concerned about my well-being, but still. Shouldn't he care about continuing the bloodline?

I enter the living room and stop hesitantly in the doorway. I'm not sure if it's safe to approach, and there's a small chance, fingers crossed, that Dad just wants me to fetch something... like that money we don't have. So I'm actually saving time by standing near the door.

I peer into the living room and my eyes settle on one of the largest werewolves I've ever seen. He's in human form and towers almost a foot over my dad.

Although he's about Dad's age, a little younger, he's in much better shape, lean, strong, and muscular, and I'm pretty sure he doesn't have an ounce of fat beneath his jeans and black leather jacket. His jet-black hair needs a cut, and he looks like he hasn't shaved in days.

His eyes are narrowed, and his upper lip is curled back in a snarl. My overall impression is that he's big, wild, and could be very dangerous. Definitely not the sort of wolf Dad should be messing with.

"Come here, Julie," Dad orders when he spots me. Unlike his rival, Dad doesn't look like much. He's of average height and of above-average weight.

All that weight is gathered in his stomach, so he could pass for nine months pregnant. Okay, fine, maybe more like seven. My Dad drinks a lot of beer, and it makes his Tummy grow massive.

Also, he loves late-night meals, which is not good for his age, and has contributed to having a big Belly. Dad also clubs and lives a reckless life, which my mother had severely complained about when she was alive.

As usual, he's wearing thick shorts, belted below his belly, and a blue T-shirt. I carefully walk up to Dad. When I stopped next to him, he crossed his arm around me for like the first time ever!

I really can't remember him ever showing me any sort of affection of such nature, at least not since my mother died. If it has happened, that could be when I was much younger not as I have grown older.

As he pulls me close, I smell cigarettes and beer, and his stench makes me shudder in disgust. Then I catch a whiff of hope laced with worry, which tells me that Dad's definitely up to something.

What's his plan? We all like: "Please don't hurt me, my little girl needs me?"

I mentally roll my eyes at the thought.

It's the only explanation I have for why Dad is suddenly acting all dad-like.

"This is my daughter," Dad introduces me to the Don Wolf Master, who emits a growl in response. It could be his way of saying "nice to meet you," but I doubt it. According to that, his name is Cole, so he could be referred to as Don Master Cole.

He doesn't bother introducing himself, so I settle on "Don Cole" for short.

The nickname is silly-DMC!

"Nancy," Dad adds with a smirk.

'Nancy' is my legal name, though I haven't heard anyone use it in years. When I started school, a few kids shortened my name to Nan. Others just assumed it was Nan and I never corrected them.

Eventually, it's what everyone was calling me, even Dad.

Which makes me wonder, why is he using my full name now?

"I can assure you in all ramifications that she's worth her weight in gold," Dad adds.

I guess that explains it. Nancy is this expensive spice that used to be as valuable as gold if measured by weight. Like, if you wanted to buy a pound of Nancy, it would cost you a pound of gold. That sort of thing. Pretty cool, huh?

Mom was the one who picked out my name. I still remember how she'd call me her little treasure.

Of course, Dad has to go and ruin that memory by constantly telling me that if Mom could see me now, she'd regret calling me Nancy, since I'll never amount to much. I still like the name though, even if no one actually uses it anymore. It's the only reminder I have left of my mom.

"And I should care, why?" DMC growls, bringing me back to the present. His jaw is tense, a vein in his forehead is throbbing, and his hands are clenched into fists. He does not look happy. What could be his problem?

I start to worry that he's about to take his anger out on me, not just Dad, so I assume an exaggerated Submissive Wolf pose.

It's a self-defense move Dad taught me that makes me look non-threatening. It's supposed to trigger a Wolf's protective nature, dampening their urge to attack. I have triggered a Wolf's protective nature, dampening their urge to attack. I've practiced it on Dad-and succeeded- enough times to be an expert.

Furthermore, I hunch my back slightly, making sure not to make eye contact, and emit a whimper. DMC's expression softens briefly, but for him, it's just a dominant Wolf Master instinct that he easily suppresses because all the anger is back moments later.

"Explain yourself!" DMC demands.

I was kind of wondering, too. Why would Dad suddenly start praising me when he always says he hasn't a clue why Mom named me Nancy?

Dad's shower of praises keeps me wondering what's up. He doesn't behave like this to me. As he continued speaking, he asked us all to sit down and hear the reason we are all here

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