The Alpha’s Regret Claiming His Luna novel Chapter 81

Chapter 45: Predators and Protectors–2

+15 Points)

My blunt response seemed to infuriate her. She slammed her palm against the desk,

making the pens jump.

“How arrogant!” she snapped. “Do you know how much your impulsiveness cost us? A five–year legal advisory contract worth $150,000, and other disputes totaling at

least $500,000! Are you going to pay the $650,000 loss?”

I felt my lips curl into a cold smile. “Fine. I’ll fill that hole today. But don’t ever send me

to meet scumbags like them again.”

Heather’s eyes widened in disbelief before narrowing into a sneer. “Before you leave work, I want contracts signed and payment proof in hand. If not, don’t bother coming

tomorrow. You’ve caused serious losses–we have every right to terminate your

position without compensation.”

I held her gaze without flinching. “Understood.”

As I left her office, I passed by Kenneth Westfield’s desk. His face split into a gloating

smirk when he saw me.

“Wow, Lawyer Winters,” he called loudly enough for others to hear, “after offending clients and losing big business, you still have the face to come to work? If I were you,

I’d be too ashamed.”

I shot him a frosty glance but kept walking. His petty satisfaction wasn’t worth my

attention.

Back at my desk, my phone buzzed with a message from Jade Mitchell, the young intern I’d helped during that expensive dinner outing.

“Lawyer Winters, did you see the social media posts from Valerie Pierce and Kenneth Westfield? They’re attacking you.”

My stomach tightened as I opened the screenshots she’d attached.

Valerie’s post was thinly veiled but unmistakable: “Some women are shameless- young, healthy, but don’t work hard, just rely on rich protectors. Such people disgrace

the profession.”

O

1/3

<Chapter 45: Predators and….

+15 Points>

Kenneth’s attack was more direct: “If you already have a rich man with a Bentley, just

stay home and play pampered princess. Don’t come here pretending to work and ruin

deals, dragging me down too. Hypocritical bitch.”

Jade sent another message: “They’ve blocked you from viewing their posts. They’re

the ones who spread rumors you’re kept by a wealthy man. They even created a

gossip group chat just to slander you.”

More screenshots followed–over thirty of them–showing a group chat dedicated

entirely to tearing apart my reputation. The messages were vicious, speculating about my relationship with Connor, mocking my work ethic, and painting me as

nothing more than a gold–digger.

“Wonder how many men she had to sleep with to get that Bentley?”

“Pretends to be so professional but really just a high–class escort.”

“No wonder she doesn’t care about losing clients–she’s not here for the salary

anyway.”

Each message felt like a physical blow. I had tried so hard to be kind to these people- treating them to dinner, helping the interns, working diligently on every case. And this

was how they repaid me.

The realization was bitter: my kindness had been interpreted as weakness, my competence as a threat. This toxic workplace cared nothing for sincerity or skill–only status and connections mattered.

I bit my lip hard, suppressing the surge of anger and hurt that threatened to overwhelm me. My naivety in believing kindness could win trust now seemed

laughable.

With steady fingers, I typed a reply to Jade: “Thank you for telling me. Next time they gossip about me, help me record it.”

Her response came immediately: “Of course, Lawyer Winters. You saved me from that expensive dinner bill. Whatever you need.”

I took a deep breath, straightening my shoulders as I made a decision. With newfound resolve, I pulled out my phone and dialed a number I rarely used.

“Hello, Dad,” I said when Richard Winters answered, my voice calm and clear. “Is there

O

2/3

Chapter 46: Bloodlines an…

Chapter 46: Bloodlines and Consequences–1

His assistant looked up in surprise. “Miss Winters! Your father just finished his meeting. He mentioned you were coming.”

“Thank you, Melissa,” I replied, heading straight for the double doors.

My father, Richard Winters, stood by the window. At fifty–five, he still cut an impressive figure–tall and distinguished with completely white hair that had once been the same honey–brown as mine. The premature white was a physical manifestation of his grief after my mother’s death.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify