Reborn Supporting Girl Won't Cater: Vampire Godfather, Rut Half-Wolf & CEO Lose Control

I gripped my phone, the screen glowing with Thorne’s message. Silas Hale stood on the balcony above, the stolen Nova Tech folder tucked neatly under his arm. I needed to get outside.

I turned toward the side exit, eager to escape the suffocating heat of the ballroom.

A hand clamped around my wrist.

The fingers were unnaturally cold, biting through the thin silk of my sleeve. Before I could shout, someone yanked me behind the heavy velvet curtains of the coatroom hallway.

I stumbled, catching my balance against the oak wainscoting.

Lucca stood blocking the exit. He did not look like the arrogant prince from ten minutes ago. He looked completely unhinged.

His expensive midnight blue tie hung loose around his neck. He pressed the heels of his hands against his temples, his eyes squeezed shut in obvious agony.

"Shut them up," Lucca ground out, his voice a ragged scrape against the quiet of the hidden corridor.

"Move out of my way, Lucca." I stepped forward.

He lunged, pinning me against the wallpaper. Not with force, but with sheer desperation. He buried his face into the crook of my neck, his icy skin sending a violent shiver down my spine.

I shoved his shoulders hard. "Get off me!"

"Just a minute," he pleaded, his grip tightening on my arms. "Just give me one minute of quiet. Please."

I froze. "What are you talking about?"

He lifted his head. His dark eyes were entirely bloodshot. The veins under his pale skin pulsed with a strange, unnatural darkness.

"The noise," he rasped, his chest heaving. "The greed. The lust. The endless, deafening screams inside their heads. I hear all of it. Every single guest in that ballroom."

I stared at him, my mind racing. "Are you on drugs?"

A bitter, broken laugh tore from his throat. "Drugs would numb it. For two centuries, I have listened to the filthy secrets of humanity. A never-ending chorus of lies and depravity."

Two centuries.

The words hung in the cramped space. In my past life, I would have assumed he was having a psychotic break. Now, looking at the absolute stillness of his chest, the freezing temperature of his skin, a horrifying truth clicked into place.

"You are not human," I stated flatly.

"Does it matter?" Lucca stepped back, pacing the narrow hall like a caged animal. "You were the only one. For six years, whenever you stood near me, the voices stopped. Your mind is a vault, El. Absolute, perfect silence. You were my only peace."

The realization hit me like a physical blow.

All those years I spent trailing after him like a lost puppy. The times he let me sit in his study for hours while he worked. The rare moments he allowed me to hold his hand.

He never tolerated me because he cared. He kept me around as a human mute button.

I did not cry. I did not scream.

Instead, a wide, genuine smile stretched across my face.

Lucca stopped pacing. "You find this amusing?" he demanded, his fangs—actual, razor-sharp fangs—glinting under the dim sconce light.

"I find it pathetic," I told him, dropping the smile instantly. "You let me ruin my life for you, just so you could get some peace and quiet."

"I gave you status!" Lucca argued, his composure cracking entirely. "I let you stand beside me. Do you know how many women would kill for that privilege?"

"Then go find one of them." I pointed toward the velvet curtains separating us from the party. "Go listen to their thoughts. Bathe in their noise."

He flinched as if I had struck his jaw. "It is impossible. Not anymore. Since you walked out of the estate two weeks ago, the noise is deafening. Sleep is impossible. My thoughts are shattered. I need you back."

"I am not your property," I shot back, my tone turning to ice. "And I am certainly not your shield."

I pushed past him, aiming for the brass handle of the exterior door.

He blocked it again, his speed impossible to track. One second he stood behind me, the next he planted himself squarely in front of the exit.

"Elowen, what exactly do you want from me?" he asked. The arrogance was entirely stripped away, leaving only raw, desperate panic in his dark eyes. "Money? Power? Tell me your price. I will give you anything you ask for."

I looked at the man who had watched my family burn to the ground. The monster who had drained my youth and discarded me when I was no longer convenient.

"Before I wanted your love," I said, my voice steady, carrying the weight of a past life he would never understand. "Now... I want nothing."

Lucca's jaw dropped. The panic in his eyes morphed into absolute terror.

He reached out, his fingers trembling wildly. "El, wait—"

I slapped his hand away.

"Do not touch me," I warned. "If you ever come near me again, I will not just ignore you. I will make sure the whole world knows exactly what you are."

I grabbed the handle and shoved the heavy door open.

The crisp night air hit my face, instantly clearing the suffocating scent of his cologne. I marched down the stone pathway toward the garden gates without a single backward glance. I felt his panic radiating through the open doorway, a heavy wave of realization that he had permanently lost the one thing keeping him sane.

Thorne’s black town car idled by the curb, the engine a low purr against the quiet street.

The rear window rolled down. Orion Thorne leaned forward, his sharp eyes scanning my expression in the moonlight.

"You look like you just saw a ghost," Thorne remarked, tapping his fingers against the window frame.

"Worse," I replied, pulling my coat tighter around my shoulders. "A parasite."

Thorne opened the door. "Get in. Silas Hale is on the move. If we do not intercept him in the next ten minutes, your father's company is history."

I slid into the leather seat. The door slammed shut, sealing me inside the quiet cabin.

"Where is he going?" I asked.

Thorne handed me a sleek tablet. A red dot blinked on a digital map, moving rapidly toward the city's harbor district.

"He is meeting a buyer for the Nova Tech documents," Thorne explained, signaling the driver to move. "Someone who wants to make sure Voss Industries never secures that patent."

"Who?"

Thorne met my gaze, a dangerous smirk playing on his lips.

"The exact same people who rigged the brakes on the car that killed you in your last life."