Chapter In Regret Novel 135
Chapter 119
Before I could gather my thoughts, Lorik's voice broke through the tension. "Never," he declared firmly. "Shirley is my only Luna. There's no way I'm cutting ties with her."
The force behind his words caught everyone's attention, and whispers began circulating among the guests. His determination, so publicly displayed, clashed violently with his father's stance, but it also stirred something in me. Part of me felt vindicated-he was choosing me, standing by me in front of the world. But another part of me felt the weight of everything we had gone through, the pain and doubts that had driven us apart. If only he had fought this hard for us before, we might not have ended up here.
Felix Dismond observed us carefully, his eyes lingering on Lorik before shifting to me. For a moment, the entire room seemed to hold its breath, awaiting his verdict. I could feel the tension
rolling off Andrew, who was visibly flustered, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. He was terrified of offending the chairman, that much was clear.
Andrew's voice wavered slightly as he attempted to explain further, "President, I'm sorry if her presence is an inconvenience. She's just... well, she's nothing more than a she-wolf from a small pack. Surely, you wouldn't want her here. I'll handle this and make sure she leaves."
As he spoke, Andrew roughly grabbed my wrist, trying to drag me away. But I wasn't that fragile, timid girl anymore. I resisted, standing firm as his fingers dug into my skin. His eyes widened in surprise as he realized I wasn't budging, and I met his gaze with a mocking smile. How could he be so shocked? Had he forgotten the years I spent training, growing stronger?
"That's enough, Andrew," Felix finally spoke, his voice a commanding force that silenced the room. "Shirley is here because I personally invited her."
Andrew's expression faltered, and he stammered, "I-I see, Chairman. I didn't realize-"
Felix's voice cut him off. "You don't need to make excuses. I invited her because of her talent, and
because my daughter likes her. It has nothing to do with you." He shook his head slightly, as if disappointed. "In fact, your behavior today has been appalling. Perhaps you're the one who should
leave and take some time to calm down."
The shock on Andrew's face was almost comical. He blinked in disbelief, struggling to comprehend that he, not I, was being asked to leave. He glanced around, looking for support among the guests, But the room was silent, watching the scene unfold with barely concealed curiosity.
"She... she's just a girl who can play the piano," Andrew stammered, clearly bewildered. "She doesn't have any background, no connections. Why does everyone like her so much?"
After I Let Go My Alpha, He Knelt in Regret
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apter 119
Felix's expression softened slightly, but there was still a sharp edge to his words. "It seems you
dislike your son's Luna. I wonder how she fares in your pack. If Lorik shared your view, I'd consider introducing Shirley to someone more suitable."
Lorik's posture straightened instantly, his body radiating tension. His eyes narrowed, glaring at Felix
with a mixture of caution and hostility. "Shirley and I are together," he stated coldly. "There's no need for you to concern yourself."
Felix raised an eyebrow, his tone turning almost teasing. "It's just a matter of getting to know each
other, Lorik. What harm could come from that?"
At that moment, a tall, striking man stepped forward from the crowd. His sharp features, framed by
a cascade of dark hair, drew murmurs from the onlookers. He wore a tailored black suit, the sheen
the fabric reflecting the golden chandeliers above, and his emerald eyes held a mischievous glint. His presence commanded attention, effortlessly exuding charisma.
"Let me introduce you," Felix said, a proud smile playing on his lips as he gestured toward the man. "This is my son, Marcus. He's about your age, Shirley, and will soon take over as the Alpha of the Crescent Tribe."
As I stood in the grand ballroom, the air thick with chatter and music, I caught sight of Marcus, the president's son. He was tall, with sharp features that exuded both authority and warmth. His presence, like that of his father, was impossible to ignore. His dark hair was perfectly combed, and he wore a tailored black suit that hugged his athletic frame, giving him an effortlessly regal
appearance.
Marcus walked over to me and offered me his hand, a gleam in his eye.
'Greetings, Miss Shirley! I've watched many of your races, and I'm glad to meet you here today. Perhaps if you have time later, we can talk about something related to piano or racing, I have quite an interest in both them and you.'