CHAPTER 155: DESPERATE WANTS

Lethia parted her lips and let out a mocking chuckle that gradually turned into a light laugh.

"A coup?" Her laughter grew louder. "Who are you kidding? Who’s the delusional one here?"

Varrel only smirked, his gaze saying he’d already expected that sarcastic reaction from her.

"I have enough resources to do it, honey... and with your power—"

"I don’t even know how to use that power. But more than that, this kind of war gains nothing. You’ll lose, and you’ll leave the werewolf society worse off than before. No, what you’ll really do is rip open an old wound. And it’s always the innocent who suffer because of that greed."

Varrel stiffened, and his smirk deepened.

"You... You’re always like this. Always talking down to me. But you know what, sweetheart? That’s exactly what drives me mad. It pisses me off and makes me want you even more." He wiped his lips with the napkin and tossed it aside like garbage.

"No worries. That oracle girl will help you unlock that power." He winked with his disgusting left eye.

Lethia’s right hand instinctively reached for her glass of water, her breath heavy, weighing whether she should just splash the water in his face or hurl the whole damn glass at his smug expression.

"Oh, don’t look at me like that. Isn’t this what you wanted? This ranch, Ashcroft Corp, this is all yours, sweetheart. And together, we can make it even bigger, more powerful." Varrel explained with fire in his voice, but it didn’t stir even a drop of sentiment in her.

She drank the water in strong gulps, her chest heaving from the rage she fought to contain. Then she shot him a disdainful glare.

"Then why the hell did you do all that to me?" she asked.

Varrel rose from his chair and walked slowly toward her, speaking as he moved...

"This is all because of that bitch Lana. Yeah, at first, I worked with her because of the fated mate bond. But ever since I met you... Since I’ve been with you, I... I truly love you.

I wanted to reject her, but the fated bond is too damn strong. So I had to pretend I was on board with her plan.

And now? She’s getting crazier each day. It won’t be long before she might just take her own life. Then we can be together again, sweetheart."

He suddenly dropped to his knees beside Lethia, turning her chair so they were face to face.

"I’ve waited so long for this, honey. I stayed with Lana just to keep the path open for us.

You know, it’s not like you’re with Tuffin out of love. That Zeran Tuffin only wants the baby.

He’s even hiding the one who stabbed you. He’s going to hurt you eventually.

I’m the only one you can trust right now, because I love you.

Let’s just get back together, build our glory again. I’ll accept your child like my own. We can finally have the little family you’ve always dreamed of."

["Oh my fucking divine tails! What’s with this sudden fake-deep confession? Oh girl, why would you even have an ex like him? Your taste let me down so bad."] Whisney scoffed.

Lethia’s breath trembled. Every exhale felt like her blood was boiling in her veins.

Right.

Even she had to admit that her past choice about this man was embarrassing. Slapping him would’ve been satisfying, but it would only trigger his temper, and she wasn’t about to risk that turning violent.

She stared deep into Varrel’s eyes, searching that maybe he was just possessed, that maybe this vile man in front of her wasn’t the real Varrel.

But all she saw was hollow greed. Maybe he was just born this way. There was no cure for this kind of sickness.

Her fingers slowly traced down his jawline. She bit back the fury tightening her throat dry.

"Is that so?" she murmured with a wry smile. "Should we just forget everything and start over?"

Varrel’s grin stretched wider. He gripped her hand and planted a soft kiss on her skin. It made her gag and feel nauseous.

"Sure, sweetheart. As long as you’re with me, I’ll do anything for you."

Lethia gave a lazy smile, then reached into the pocket of her dress and pulled out the crumpled photo.

"Then... would you mind telling me about this picture? Who’s the woman?" Her tone sharpened. "I assume Adam already told you I was looking into your visits to brothels and that sleazy motel."

She unfolded the photo and shoved it right in front of his eyes.

His gaze faltered. His lips parted as if his mind scrambled for words.

"Ah, this," he said, taking the photo and letting out a bitter chuckle. "This is my shame. I wanted to bury it. I didn’t want you to ever find out. It was... my desperation for you."

"Desperation?" she pushed. "Tell me more."

Varrel’s eyes flicked nervously, almost pleading. "Promise me... you won’t hate me."

The way he switched, from an unhinged lunatic to some lovesick teenage boy, made Lethia’s stomach turn. She swallowed down her laugh and nodded stiffly.

"I was starving for you," he said. "I paid women to roleplay as you. Dressed them in the way you usually dress. Sprayed them with your favourite perfume. Made them wear wigs in your maroon hair. But none of them tasted like you."

Lethia shuddered. Varrel’s madness had crossed the point of no return.

"So they dressed like me?" she asked, her voice sharp. She paused for a moment to digest his unbelievable explanation. The air between them thickened.

"But why do you have this photo? Won’t it become a disadvantage if people know this?"

Varrel smirked. "You’re clever, sweetheart. There was a paparazzi who blackmailed me with those photos. I didn’t mind if they leaked it. The issue was... he had another angle that showed the women’s real faces. That wouldn’t look good for my image. So, I took care of them."

"Took care?" Lethia’s eye twitched in horror.

"Yeah..." he said, voice flat. "They don’t belong to this world anymore. That’s why I needed to have you, to get out of this shameful habit. The reason I have to pull this uncool kidnapping stunt. I just couldn’t stop myself from needing the real you."

Lethia’s lips curled in disgust as she watched Varrel lower his head like a man crushed under the weight of his own deluded suffering. She clenched her dress tightly and took a deep breath.

"So," she asked coldly, "you want to reclaim me?"

Varrel nodded enthusiastically, with a face full of desperate hope.

"Sure," she said, her voice dripping ice. "I’ll give you exactly what you desperately want."