Third Person's POV
Ulva snatched the heavy object from her son's hand. "Don't get your hands dirty with a stray like her. She has no soul."
Randolph's face was pale; the sheer disrespect from an outside she-wolf felt like a stain on his honor.
Trista hesitated, then looked at her parents. "Mom, Dad, let me handle this. I'll be right back."
She went to her room, changed, and grabbed an umbrella.
Her family was her last line of defense. She wouldn't let Samantha touch the peace they had left.
The rain was a steady, cold drizzle.
Samantha was standing by the community gate, soaked to the bone and looking like a wreck.
The second she saw Trista approaching, the fire in her eyes flared up again.
"You bitch, Trista!"
Samantha lunged toward her, screaming. "You talk a big game about a severance, then you go behind my back and lure Cassian to Europe to sleep with you? You're even trying to steal the gifts he bought for my son!"
Trista didn't say a word. She slowly bent down and set her umbrella on the ground.
The next second, she unleashed her full Silverlight aura.
Trista's pupils constricted into icy, vertical slits. Her pheromones turned as sharp as a razor's edge.
Before Samantha could even process what was happening, the rank-suppression pinned her to the spot. Her bones felt like they were groaning under the weight.
Trista took a step forward and grabbed Samantha by the hair.
She slaped Samantha for three times. Every strike was backed by the explosive power of her wolf side.
Trista swung left and right, sending Samantha reeling. Under the weight of the bloodline suppression, Samantha couldn't even think about fighting back.
Blood began to leak from her nose and mouth. She stumbled and fell backward into a muddy puddle, looking like a crushed insect.
Trista wiped her hand, picked up her umbrella, and looked down at her.
"Samantha, if you ever do anything to my family again, I'll give you a taste of 'Territory Justice' before I let anyone rip your throat out."
Samantha struggled in the mud, her high heels slipping as she tried to crawl away.
Fortunately, she had finally woken up.
"Stop acting!" Samantha shrieked. "You just can't let go of the Ironthorn power! If you really wanted a clean break, you would have run halfway across the world and never come back! You're staying here because you want to dangle him along. You want to see him crawl back to you like a dog and beg for mercy!"
The rain continued to fall. Trista stood tall, her umbrella perfectly level.
She waited for Samantha to finish her tantrum before answering with total clarity. "I was born in Los Angeles. My family is here, my career is here, and I know every street in this city. This is where my roots are. This has been my life for over twenty years."
Trista tilted her head. "Why should I have to pack up and leave my home like a kicked dog just because some guy broke his promise? Why should I give up everything I've built?"
"You studied psychology," Samantha spat back. "You know that a woman who truly wants to move on runs away from the place that hurt her! If you wanted out, you'd be gone!"
A cold, mocking smile touched Trista's lips.
"The difference is, I'm not the kind of woman who loses and leaves the table."
She looked directly into Samantha's terrified eyes. "Giving up my life and moving to another country because of a shitty man isn't 'freedom'—it's running away. It would be punishing myself for someone else's sins."
Trista's voice dropped, and her bloodline pressure made the very raindrops around them seem to freeze. "I haven't done anything wrong. I'm not the one who's getting kicked out of the game."
She didn't look back at the broken woman in the mud. She simply turned and walked away.

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