From Substitute To Queen

Chapter 100 Chapter 100 I'd heard enough. Standing abruptly, I grabbed the ice water glass from our table and threw its contents directly at his face. "Splash- The cold water hit him squarely, dripping from his hair and soaking the front of his white dress shirt. Darrell sat frozen, water droplets falling from his hair as he stared at me in shock. "First you hurt me, and now you want to hurt Camila?" My voice shook with fury. "What do you think women are you grab when you want it and toss aside when you're bored?" - toys?

Something I planted both hands on the table and leaned forward, my eyes blazing. "How could I ever consider being with someone like you?" Darrell remained seated, slowly reaching for napkins to wipe water from his face. "Sable... I..." His voice broke. "I know I was stupid before, trying to have it both ways. That was my biggest mistake!" He stood up, still dripping, and reached for my arm. "But I've learned from my mistakes now!" I jerked away from his touch and stepped back. "Darrell, you're pathetically immature!

So immature it's beyond comprehension!" "You're an Alpha, a grown man, but you spend all your time tangled up in these petty romantic dramas!" "Have you given any thought to your responsibilities? Your pack?" The words hit their target. "Isn't your pack facing financial crisis right now?" "Instead of figuring out how to solve those problems, you're here talking to me about this nonsense?" At the mention of pack troubles, Darrell's face went white as paper. "You... how do you know..." he whispered. I... I'm working on solutions..." he stammered weakly, but even he didn't sound convinced.

Darrell collapsed back into his chair as if all his strength had drained away. After a long silence, he looked up with trembling voice. "If... if I really do mature and grow up... If I handle all the pack business properly and make sure everyone lives well... His eyes held one last desperate hope. "Would you be willing to look at me? Even just once?" His voice became a plea. Im not asking you to love me. Just give me a chance to prove myself... I stared at Darrell for a long moment.

'Dariell, listen carefully "Don't work hard for anyone else, including me Your pack, your career - those are your own responsibilities, your duties as an Alpha. O 1/3 MO M ||| O < 91%1 11:36 Fri, 22 Aug M Chapter 100 "These things have nothing to do with me, and nothing to do with any woman." I picked up my purse and the pastry box, preparing to leave.

"You need to grow up for yourself, for your pack members' sake." "Not to win some woman's favor." My final words carried particular weight: "A truly mature man should understand what responsibility means, what duty means." Without another word, I turned and walked away. Darrell's POV 91% I sat there dripping like a fucking idiot. Water pooled around my chair as I mechanically dabbed at my face with the flimsy coffee shop napkins. My white dress shirt clung to my chest, completely soaked through. My hair hung in wet strands across my forehead. She said I was pathetically immature. She's right.

I am a failure. The photos lay scattered on the table where I'd left them, some darkened by water droplets. That carefully planned confrontation had blown up in my face. Instead of winning her back, I'd only proven her point about how worthless I was. My hands shook as I gathered the pictures. The coffee shop's other customers whispered behind their menus, shooting curious glances my way. A barista approached hesitantly with a mop, clearly wanting me gone. Sable's right about everything. The pack was hemorrhaging money. Our suppliers had stopped delivering.

Three of our largest clients had terminated contracts this week alone. I'd been so obsessed with chasing after her that I'd ignored the slow-motion disaster destroying everything my family had built. I ran my wet fingers through my hair, making the mess even worse. But I can't give up on her. I won't. Standing on unsteady legs, I stuffed the photos back into my briefcase. The other customers quickly averted their eyes. I stumbled toward the exit, leaving wet footprints on the tile floor. I fumbled for my car keys, my movements still mechanical and disconnected. Ring ring.

My phone buzzed in my jacket pocket. I pulled it out, squinting at the screen through water-blurred vision. Unknown number. Probably another debt collector or supplier demanding payment. 'Fuck off, I muttered, letting it ring. Ring ring. It started again immediately. Same unknown number.