The screech of the sedan’s tires cut through the air as it braked hard on the slick asphalt.
It drifted with ease, stopping right at the edge of the lakeside—proof enough of the driver’s sharp skill.
Ashwood was the largest countryside, dotted with many pristine natural lakes.
It was one of the reasons Ashcroft’s organic cattle farm could build a world-class cheese farm, famed for its top-tier quality.
Their cows were raised organically, in a stress-free, natural environment.
But, unfortunately, the cool, fresh lake breeze and the clean air couldn’t make the woman stepping out of the sedan feel as stress-free as those cows on her farm.
Her gloomy expression looked like a calf that couldn’t suckle from its mother because she had already been milked.
With a thick coat, sunglasses, and a scarf wrapped around her head, Lana Ashcroft limped slightly, walking hurriedly toward the grey van parked not far from her car. She glanced around, scanning for any suspicious eyes, as if someone might be watching her.
She knocked urgently on the driver’s side window, and a man with a scar on his forehead appeared as the window rolled down.
"Can you stop blackmailing me? I’ve given you enough." Lana snarled, throwing a brown envelope straight at the man’s face.
He just scoffed, smirking, as he opened the envelope, revealing a stack of cash inside.
"You shouldn’t give me a task involving someone’s life like that, ma’am. I almost died because of it, if I hadn’t blended into the crowd back then."
Lana ignored his ramblings and turned her gaze toward the lake.
"You will die by my hands, and your body will be found floating in that lake if you keep blackmailing me like this."
The man froze for a moment, looking at Lana in horror, but he quickly chuckled, "You would’ve already killed me if that was your plan, ma’am. But you still need me to do your errands." His smirk widened into an arrogant laugh.
"Don’t get cocky, you human. The last full moon I shifted, I still enjoyed tearing into a deer’s flesh. But deer are getting rare these days... I think switching to human trash like you sounds acceptable enough." Lana’s voice was cold as she stretched out her palm, as if asking for something.
The arrogant smirk on the man’s face twisted into a sour grimace as he muttered curses under his breath, mumbling about how cruel the blonde woman in front of him was. He snatched the black folder from the passenger seat and immediately handed the envelope to Lana.
"Are you sure this information is valid?" Lana yanked the black envelope roughly.
"Oh ma’am, listen— I wouldn’t dare blackmail a powerful werewolf like you if what I’ve got ain’t worth your damn attention."
The rancid stench of cigarettes from the man’s mouth made Lana ignore his words entirely as she strutted back to her car.
"Eh, ma’am, you gotta be careful! That man ain’t no ordinary hitman!" the man, with a scar on his forehead, half-shouted hoarsely at her as Lana picked up her pace, her limp barely slowing her down.
Inside the car, Lana tore open the black envelope in a rush. A photo slipped into her hand— a tattooed neck inked with a wolf strangled by a three-headed snake.
She flipped through the papers that came with it, snapshots of the same tattoo taken from different angles.
"What kind of bullshit mess is this?" Lana hissed at the papers like they owed her an explanation. But the more she read, the more the pages pissed her off, each one packed with information about the Virethrax Organization.
With a sharp breath, she threw the whole stack onto the passenger seat in frustration. A grey van passed by, honking as if it were bidding her farewell.
She gritted her teeth, already regretting the decision to hire that idiot human for something as complicated as tailing Lethia.
Her grip tightened on the wheel as she gave the scattered papers another glance. How the hell did a simple mission—tailing Lethia and dragging her back to the temple that night—spiral into something that led to Virethrax Organization?
An international organization of assassins—brutal beyond reason and infamous for being like ghosts, the kind that left no trace behind.
The engine roared to life, snarling like a beast. Moments later, she slammed the gas pedal and let the car slice through the lake’s cold night wind.
Throughout the journey, Lana’s mind was filled with one big question. Who wanted to kill Lethia enough to hire a hitman from an organization like that?
Her fingers tapped over the steering wheel, weighing whether it was worth pursuing the mastermind behind Lethia’s stabbing that night.
Varrel had a strong reason to worry about Lethia being in Renar Tuffin’s hands. But imagining anything beyond a doctor-patient relationship between them felt far-fetched.
Lethia was broken, and there was no way a powerful Lycan would spare a glance for someone like her. Lana chuckled, ’How does luck still play out in your favor? Too bad you didn’t just die that night.’
Lana pressed the pedal harder, eager to reach the Ascroft Ranch and Cheese farm, which was now hers.
Once she arrived at the grand main house, Lana faintly heard the commotion coming from Varrel’s office. She had no intention of eavesdropping, but the topic of their conversation—deliberately muffled—led her steps toward the office door.
"You can’t just replace our artisanal cheese farm with that heartless robot machine, Varrel. It’ll ruin the quality and credibility of our product," Altan, Varrel’s right-hand man, protested.
"I’m not saying we’ll change it all. I said we need to do a trial and just replace half of the production with machines."
"Ooh for Moon Goddess’ sake, Varrel, does being part of Ashenhold’s elite make you look down on our traditions now? Hah? Or did that uptown girl Ashcroft twist your arm into this? To be honest, she’s no better at handling company matters than Lethia. I don’t care if you’ve gone head over heels for her, but don’t let that mess with your judgment when it comes to the ranch."
Varrel’s jaw clenched, eyes flaring with heat. "Watch your mouth, she’s going to be your Luna soon!"
Lana, fists clenched tight behind the door, quietly stepped away from Varrel’s office. She knew people on this ranch still hadn’t fully accepted her, and it was all because Lethia’s shadow still haunted every corner of this place.