Filthy rich werewolves by Taylor Caine novel Chapter 32

“No!” I scream. “No!”

Greg starts pulling me toward the pond near the solarium.

“I’ll press charges!” I scream. “There are witnesses.”

“Who? Your high school buddies?” Greg laughs. “That one bitch would’ve stuck around to watch, if given the chance.”

“People saw me come in here, Greg! You won’t get away with this!”

“You’re an ex-con. And I own this club. Who do you think they’ll believe?”

I try to stay calm. But my heart is beating a hundred miles a minute. I dig in my heels, knowing if he gets me into the solarium or outside… he’ll overpower her. He’ll probably kill me and with the clout his pack has, they’ll never find my body.

If anyone even bothered to look for me.

This can't be happening!

I dig my heels in again and scratch my nails down his hands and arms.

“B*tch!”

Greg drops me beside the pond.

He flexes and his arm ripples with fur as he partially shifts. I see his nails extend but before I can get up, he’s on me. His nails pressing into my throat and the other hand constraining my arms so I can’t fight.

He shoves my face into the pond.

I panic instantly.

Water floods my mouth and rushes up my nose.

I thrash and try to force my head up out of the water.

He holds me down.

No. No. No.

Not like this.

Blackness rims my vision and my efforts slow. I want to fight, but with no air, my movements are slow.

As I start to lose consciousness, my head is dragged back up. I suck in a giant gulp of air and then choke as the water in my lungs comes rushing out of my throat.

I heave. But before I can spit it all out or catch my breath, I’m shoved back down again.

He’s punishing me, I realize.

Greg lost face when Sean beat the sh*t out of him all those years ago.

Greg never got over it, and while he can’t take on Sean because of his family, I am an easy target.

As I fight and panic, cold water gushes into my mouth and nose, suffocating me.

In the next instant, I’m above water, gagging.