Filthy rich werewolves by Taylor Caine novel Chapter 35

“Max,” I say to the wolf security guard at my side, “Has any closed circuit video been erased?”

“Yes Beta.”

“Have the cameras been disengaged?”

Again, “Yes Beta.”

“Last question…did you watch the footage?”

Max nods.

Good. “Whatever he did just now, do it again."

Max grabs hold of Gregory’s arms. Two other wolves in our employ move to do the same to his other side. Greg may have been able to toss around a single, human female. But he won’t fare as well against three prime males from our pack.

These men have been training since they were kids.

They drag Greg back to the side of the pond.

It’s a pretty pool. Fountains and waterfalls surrounded by lush foliage mark the start of a beautiful glass-enclosed solarium. There’s a puddle on the walkway in the exact spot where Greg attempted to drown Grace.

“Do it,” I say.

They force Greg to his knees and his face under water.

He riots.

This dolt is strong, I’ll give him that. But my men elbow him in the back, and one restrains his legs.

He can buck all he wants, but he isn’t going anywhere.

When he starts to twitch with the true onset of drowning I say, “Bring him up.”

They lift his head out of the water.

He chokes and sputters and screams.

“Gregory… do you think it’s wise to disturb Alpha Reed’s meal again? You know how he feels about noise.”

The man stops yelling.

He’s still gasping for air.

“Again,” I say.

Over and over they drown him, stopping only when he’s on the verge of death or shifting.

Greg Anders is going to regret what he did here today. He’s going to regret a great many things.

* * * * * * * * *

GRACE