Alpha’s Regret After Putting Me In Jail novel Chapter 137

Chapter 137: A Wolf’s Strategic…

* Poins

Chapter 137: A Wolf’s Strategic Move

Chapter 137: A Wolf’s Strategic Move

(Celeste’s POV)

The warm sunlight streamed through the tall windows of my quarters. Despite the peaceful morning, the faint throbbing of my silver burns under fresh bandages was a sharp reminder of

Marcus’s recent cruelty.

I sat at my small oak dining table, taking deliberate, graceful sips of my moon–blessed tea.

The subtle clink of the porcelain cup against its saucer provided a soothing rhythm, a small

moment of calm in what felt like endless chaos.

Nina moved through the room with efficient movements. She adjusted the arrangement of

dishes on the table, her sharp eyes flickering toward me every so often with what I recognized

as anticipation.

Her silver–gray wolf radiated satisfaction, almost wagging its metaphorical tail.

“You seem unusually cheerful this morning,” I remarked, setting my cup down with a soft clink.

My tone was light, but my curiosity was piqued.

Nina turned, holding a small plate of fresh fruit. A sly smile danced across her lips, the

corners of her eyes crinkling with restrained amusement.

“Do I, My Lady?” she replied, feigning innocence as she began slicing a pear into delicate

pieces.

I raised an eyebrow, silently challenging her to share whatever secret she seemed to be

keeping.

“Something amusing has certainly caught your attention,” I mused, folding my hands gracefully on the table.

She paused her tasks, then leaned closer to me, her voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper.

“Grace hasn’t eaten a single bite since last night,” she revealed softly, a glimmer of mischief

sparkling in her expression.

For a moment, I simply stared at Nina, one brow lifting slightly. “And why, pray tell, does this amuse you so?”

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Chapter 137: A Wolf’s Strategic…

Nina placed the fruit plate on the table, her silver–gray wolf practically glowing with amusement. “Oh, I’ve been sending her the finest gourmet meals–everything from the Moonlit Bakery’s pastries to golden venison sauteed in rare wild mushrooms.”

Her sly smirk widened. “Yet, she hasn’t touched a thing. Intimidation, perhaps?”

A cold laugh escaped me, though the sound was quiet, as sharp as the edge of a blade.

“Poor Grace,” I said mockingly, picking up a small slice of pear with slender fingertips. The fruit was ripe, bursting with flavor as I bit into it.

“Does she think herself unworthy of such luxury? Or is it guilt that curdles her appetite?”

Nina’s smirk turned into a full smile, her silver–gray wolf clearly enjoying the thought of Grace

suffering–even indirectly.

“My Lady,” she began hesitantly after a moment, her tone shifting to something more serious. Her sharp gray eyes locked onto mine.

“Do you truly believe her story?” she asked bluntly, her silver–gray wolf’s ears metaphorically

flattening with suspicion.

I placed my teacup back onto its saucer with deliberate precision, the soft clink louder in the

quiet space.

“Do you doubt it, Nina?” I countered, though my tone wasn’t accusatory.

Nina hesitated, her usually relaxed shoulders stiffening slightly.

“Not to question your judgment, My Lady,” she said quickly. “But the timing–it feels…

deliberate. Convenient, even.”

Her directness was one of her strengths, one of the reasons she held my trust. I remained

calm, meeting her gaze without flinching.

“Victoria will investigate,” I said simply, brushing nonexistent crumbs from the table with graceful movements.

“She is exactly the type to prioritize bloodlines and pack reputation. Grace will face scrutiny

soon enough.”

Nina’s shoulders relaxed slightly, but dissatisfaction flickered across her sharp features.

“You don’t intend to investigate yourself?” she pressed gently, her concern evident.

I allowed the faintest smile to tug at the corners of my lips, though there was no humor in it.

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Chapter 137: A Wolf’s Strategic…

“Whether or not she is truly my sister makes little difference, Nina,” I said, standing smoothly from the chair. My violet eyes met hers with deliberate coolness.

“I have no intention of making her comfortable in her new quarters,” I added. The edge in my tone left no room for misunderstanding.

Realizing there was more behind my words than I had yet revealed, Nina’s silver–gray wolf

stilled, watching me carefully.

“We have more pressing matters,” I pointed out with finality. Nina nodded, her instincts telling her not to push further.

Her expression shifted again, this time to curiosity. As she set fresh tea on the table, she

asked cautiously, “Speaking of matters–do you plan to visit the boutique Regina gifted you?”

The mention of the gift drew a calculating smile to my lips. Of course, Regina’s extravagant

gesture had little to do with generosity and everything to do with guilt.

She thought giving me the most exclusive boutique in the territory–a store renowned for its

premium materials and designer fashion–would soften the memory of her son’s cruelty.

But I had no intention of letting Regina off so easily.

“Yes,” I replied coolly, adjusting the delicate cuffs of my silk blouse. “It’s time to introduce

myself as the new owner.”

Nina nodded approvingly as she prepared my wrap. “A wise choice, My Lady. Strength in

territory holdings can lend more than just monetary power–it can shift loyalty.”

The drive to the boutique was brief. But as we approached the storefront, my sharpened

senses detected immediate tension.

A small crowd had gathered outside, their hushed murmurs carrying faintly on the wind. The

carefully crafted window displays had been disturbed, and fragments of expensive fabrics

trailed messily across the marble steps.

Beside me, Nina’s silver–gray wolf bristled, already on high alert.

“My Lady, this does not look-”

I raised a hand, silencing her. “We’ll see,” I replied evenly, despite the unease settling in my

chest.

Inside, chaos reigned. The scent of fear was pungent. Items of exquisite craftsmanship lay discarded across the floor–delicate gowns, rare velvet suits, and imported silks.

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