Filthy rich werewolves by Taylor Caine novel Chapter 13

"I don't need your compliments.”

But it’s the wrong thing to say. This man slaps my face. Then he grabs my hair and jerks my head back. He slaps me again with his free hand before I can scream.

"If I want you to drink, then you will drink! Why are you acting all high and mighty when you’re just a f*cking convict?!"

As he speaks, he shifts his grip, grabbing me roughly by the jaw. In the next instant, he has the bottle of alcohol and is pouring it into my mouth.

I try to push him away.

I choke and gag, and he moves again so he’s covering my face and nose. It forces me to gasp and then a rush of wine pours down my throat. He doesn’t relent.

I have to swallow and swallow in order to breathe.

My ‘sister’ is holding my arms. I thrash but it does nothing.

She’s a wolf. He’s a male.

I'm a weak female, and I’m still bearing an assortment of bruises and injuries from my last injuries only a day ago from when I met Jay.

Jay.

My thoughts turn to him now. If he was here, he would defend me.

“S-stop,” I choke.

When I start to gag in earnest, they let me go.

I collapse to the ground. They corner me so there is nowhere to go.

My vision wavers. In part from nearly drowning/suffocating as he covered my nose, and in part from consuming so much alcohol so fast. I have no tolerance. And I don’t have my wolf’s metabolism anymore.

I’m dizzy and I stay there on my hands and knees gasping for air and trying to get the room to stop spinning.

“You're still smart," the man praises Evelyn. “I'll talk to the writers and give you more screen time."

He grabs my hair and I stand so the strands don’t rip from my scalp. “There now, he says. “Not so high and mighty anymore, huh.” He grabs my chin. “Your face looks better with my handprint on it.” He looks at me more closely. “Ooh, you have more bruises under this pale skin. And look at these blotches on your neck…somebody likes it rough.”

“N-no.” I shudder. “Let me go.”

But my voice is weak and though I’m clawing at his hands, he doesn’t let go.

His phone starts ringing and he uses his free hand to silence it.

“I feel sick,” I say to no one in particular.

He shoves me away from him.

I bend over a bit and breathe. It’ll be better if I vomit. Drunk like this, I’m too slow, too disoriented.

“My sister isn't smart, so please be understanding, Director Curtis.”

My sister is pandering to a human. It repulses me.

Wolves are among the most powerful creatures on this planet. We’re stewards of this world, meant to protect and share a connection with the natural world and the spirits that reside in the next.

And what does Evelyn do?

Lowers herself to …this.

For what?

Money? Influence? To be famous.

The man’s phone rings again and again, despite that he keeps silencing it.

When he starts toward me, I gag loudly and he freezes.

“I wanted her in my room, but if she’s going to be sick, I don’t want any part of that.”

“This is a lovely space,” Evelyn says.

The bitch.

When the phone rings yet again, he curses. “What!? What the hell do you want?”

“Damn it, Curtis.”