Marked as the Ruthless Alpha's Vengeful Luna

Elara POV

The crimson sheath dress felt less like silk and more like armor.

Stepping off the private elevator onto the top floor of Blackwood Enterprises, I was immediately hit by the hushed, sterile atmosphere of the executive area. Rows of assistants and Pack warriors in tailored black suits paused, their eyes tracking my movements. Their wolves sensed the shift in my demeanor; I wasn't the discarded Omega anymore. I didn't wait for the receptionist to announce me. I pushed straight through the heavy glass doors of the Alpha's office.

The room was a cavernous fortress of chrome and charcoal, dominated by a massive obsidian desk. Beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, New York City sprawled like a conquered territory. The air was thick with Damien's oppressive scent—cedar, aged whiskey, and winter frost.

He was just dismissing a pale-faced Beta executive. As the man scurried out, Damien leaned back in his leather chair, his slate-gray eyes locking onto my red dress.

I walked right up to the obsidian desk and dropped a thick, leather-bound folder in front of him.

"An Asset Freeze and Oversight Transfer Decree," I said, my voice steady. "Drafted under the old Blackwood Pack laws."

Damien didn't touch the folder. He simply raised a dark eyebrow. "Explain."

"Julian's public escapades in Paris are a humiliation to this Pack," I stated, meeting his intense gaze. "As his rejected mate and the current Luna, I have the right to enforce discipline. I want total control of his trust funds, his credit lines, and his assets."

Damien's expression remained unreadable. "His mother, Addyson, will tear the Manor apart. She dotes on the boy."

"Which is exactly why I should do it," I countered smoothly. "If you cut him off, you're the cruel uncle tearing the family apart. If I do it, I'm the vindictive ex-fiancée exacting her rightful revenge. You get to remain the impartial Alpha, and I get to clean up the mess. I will handle Addyson's screaming."

Silence stretched between us, heavy and electric. Then, Damien reached for his silver fountain pen. There was no surprise in his eyes, only a glint of sharp, predatory approval.

"Addyson's wrath is not for the faint of heart, little wolf," he murmured, the pen gliding across the thick paper.

"I'm not faint of heart," I replied.

He signed his name with a brutal flourish, officially handing me the leash to Julian's life. Our eyes met, sealing a silent, strategic alliance that went far beyond a fake marriage.

Right on cue, the sleek phone on the obsidian desk began to buzz. The caller ID flashed: *Julian - Paris*.

Damien's lips curved into a dark smirk. He pressed the speaker button, folded his massive hands, and leaned back, gesturing for me to take the floor.

"Uncle Damien!" Julian's voice echoed through the quiet office, laced with absolute panic. "You have to help me! My black card just declined at the Ritz, and the concierge said my penthouse lease has been terminated! It has to be a bank error!"

I leaned closer to the microphone, letting a sweet, venomous smile touch my lips.

"It's not an error, Julian."

Dead silence fell over the line. I could practically hear his heart stop all the way from France.

"Elara? What the hell are you doing on my uncle's phone?" he demanded, his panic quickly morphing into arrogant anger. "Put the Alpha on!"

"The Alpha is busy," I replied coolly. "And as of three minutes ago, your trust fund, your allowance, and your credit lines have been entirely frozen. I suggest you look for a job. I hear the cafes in Paris are always hiring dishwashers. It builds character."

"You bitch!" Julian roared. "Uncle Damien! Are you hearing this? Tell this wolfless trash to back off!"

Damien sat perfectly still. He didn't say a single word. His silence was a deafening, crushing endorsement of my power.

I heard Julian's breath hitch as the reality of his uncle's silence set in. The arrogant boy was suddenly trapped, penniless, and entirely at my mercy.

"From now on, you will address me by my title," I commanded, my voice dropping to a cold, authoritative register that made my own chest vibrate. "In this Pack, Julian, hierarchy is everything."

I reached out and pressed the end call button, cutting off his desperate stammering.

Looking up, I caught the look of dark satisfaction burning in Damien's eyes. The thrill of power rushing through my veins was intoxicating. Tomorrow morning at the family breakfast, Addyson would undoubtedly come for my throat over this. But as I stood in the Alpha's office, I knew I was ready for the war.